#it’s really interesting how a lot of white people in the fandom band together

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

My fan's journey to Joey Batey

Important: I didn't tag other artists I'm listing here because I don’t feel comfortable in any other fandom. I don't think this will be read or shared a lot but yet I make this announcement as I hope this post will stay in this corner.

Well this is personal stuff I wanted to share. Tumblr is actually the only platform I find myself OK to share my fan experience. So here I am sharing those memories. I'm sure no-one will be interested in it but, as I said, it's ok 😊.

Did you ever ask yourself why you like certain things, certain artists? I do sometimes. And I like to search in my own history who made a difference and what opened my mind to new things. Because when I am a fan of something I have a tendency to tunnel in it for long periods of time. And suddenly something new makes its way in my heart and soul, and I take another tunnel. I never quite leave the former one, this is just another section, leading to another etc.

I like a lot of stuff, really eclectic stuff, but I rarely define myself as a fan of something or someone. I need a strong emotional connection and at some point of my life they become anchors. There are strangely more artists that I'm fan of now than in my teenage years. Maybe that's because I need more anchors now and that I'm somehow more vulnerable. Maybe it's simply easier now with Internet too. The biggest difference I notice is that it's easier to find people who like the same artists as I do nowadays. When I was young, I was pretty much out of my timezone and none of my friends understood my tastes. I had to wait till high school and uni to find 1 person that shared some of them.

The starting point

While I was rewinding my fan's journey to Joey, I was trying to find what those people have in common. Well, they are white men, and that's pretty much it 😅. In reality, I like a lot of female artists (even within the groups I will speak about) and artists with different skin color. They could have been my anchors at some point. Yet things went differently.

Why? My guess is because my parents' tastes were the starting point. My father is black from the West Indies from a very religious house but by accident the first music album he ever possessed was vinyl of Dire Straits found buried in the sand. And he felt in love with rock while his sisters and brothers never did. And funnily enough, it all translated to the next generation as all of my cousins seem to dig more in our West Indies roots than I am. On my mother side, it is almost a cliché of strong text driven french singers. But put this together and you already have a good idea of what will be my path. And here is another thing to explore : how much of our tastes are really ours? Well I told you, I like to ask myself a lot of questions...

Let's start my fangirl journey then.

On the picture bellow are the main points of my journey, but I'll speak of some others in between because they shaped the evolution of my tastes in music mostly.

I'll explain to a certain extend how they slowly led me to Joey Batey who checks all the boxes of what I love in an artist today.

>> 1991 🇬🇧 - I discovered Queen literally the day Freddie Mercury died. I was a bit young but after I saw the band on TV and heard their music, I asked my parent to buy me a K7. I liked it and listened to it a lot for a few months, and then forgot it for about 4 years. But, young teenage me found this K7 again and, after that, went YEARS of almost nothing but Queen's music for me. I was a fan of Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor in particular. Well... Freddie, what can I say? Of course... That voice, that presence! Freddie was the first artist I found attractive.

And Roger Taylor is such an under radar performer. You would never imagine that his broken voice could go that high, and that he could double Freddie while drumming like a beast. He impressed me so much...

At the time, I was strongly deviating from what was popular to hear and at school nobody understood my "old" person tastes. I couldn't care less. They had their idiols, I had mine.

Note : I'm ace, but back then I didn't know. I took me a long time (almost 30 years) to understand that what I called attraction was merely fascination for others. I am now aware that the people I'm fan of are not all handsome by the canons, and maybe in my younger years that's why my friends never understood my tastes.

After I dug all I could about Queen, I plunged into all kind of rock music from the 70's and 80's (thanx dady I guess 😅) and then jump to metal, through operatic and symphonic metal.

The metal path

Those are the singer/musician from my 00's that I can say they made a strong impression on me, and that are little steps forward in my journey toward Joey even if they don't seem to.

- 🇫🇷 Patrice Guers joined the group Rhapsody as a bassist. The group was doing like a Lord of The Rings metal saga with a lot of baroque and romantic era music influences. When the guy came, that was the first time I heard such difficult lines at the bass in a metal band. And the more incredible thing was that he never used any pick to play, like it was common in this style of music. What he does cannot be played with a pick anyway. It was all fingers, baby ! He was shy in the back and suddenly he made that bass sing like a crazy jazz player lost in epic fantasy tales. He made me go feral about fusion of genres in music.

- 🇫🇮 Marco Hietala from Nightwish. A viking that that could sing like an angel or a demon while playing. As a bassist he was always a bit in the back because he often did back vocals with only parts as lead. But anytime he sang his very powerful voice sent shivers down my spine, even though the group has strong and powerful lead female vocalists. I loved them but always waited to hear that viking step in and crush it. In the end, he had more and more parts to sing as a lead. Unfortunately he stepped away from music due to mental health issus.

- 🇫🇮 Snowy Shaw. I discovered him when he joined Therion. Both are maybe the most unstettling/shady artists I've been fan of. This is one of the rare group from that period I could see live and Snowy Shaw made the show another level by his on stage presence - he had so much energy and stamina - and his insane vocals. He could twist his voice and jump from a style to another in a blink of a eye. Therion has a complex music written as pieces of symphony with choirs and orchestra. They rarely went with full orchestra, so on stage was just the core band. They had 4 singers : 2 males and 2 females. Snowy literally filled all the gaps in the vocals when needed. From the bass to crazy high notes. And he made me appreciate growls because of the way he combined it with everything else.

But he is just a small step to a bigger one later 😉.

On the same period of time, I was into french rock/folk music also. And this is a very different hook that got me there: the storytelling.

The storytellers

- 🇫🇷 Christian Descamp aka "Le Père" (the father). A strange guy with a powerfully baritone voice that wrote psychedelic songs for the band Ange (angel), which the oldest rock band still active in France. He is a powerhouse of interpretation and can be magnetic when he goes feral. In the first albums, stories were between the fantasy and fantastic genre. Then it goes for a more realistic root but with terrific metaphors that made my brain boil.

- 🇫🇷 Jean Louis Jossic : one of the three "Yann" of the folk rock band Tri Yann. This is french celtic root music (yes we have celts in France and also a local celtic language). Jean Louis hasn't the most beautiful voice from the three, but he has the power of storytelling and he creates modern legends. The band modernised french celtic folk music, making it rock and progressive and those stories the man told prouved that fantasy could be also modern tales.

If you begin to find any relation with Joey, well... I told you they all shaped the way I enjoy things 😊.

Well, let's get back to the mains.

Strange connections

>> 2000's 🇬🇧 - Alan Rickman is the first actor I became fan of and that I watched almost all the films in was in. He played mostly villains or shady characters but there was something magnetic to his performances. And he had that voice! Oh boy! I have a thing for voices 😅. My female friends were telling me he was ugly and old. And I was like : does it matter ? As I said at that time, I didn't know I was ace and I couldn't find any logical attraction in pretty boys. For me it was always something else that made the difference.

And as for actors, this something else often resided in emotions. Not the plain sight ones, but the little things with subtext and layers that dig deep in you...

>> 2005 🇦🇹 - Robert Rother aka Bertl and Leonhard Paul aka Professor. They are members of the austrian comedic brass band Mnozil Brass who arranged all type of music for brass and were very inventive on the scenery. Each of the 7 musicians is exceptional in his way but Berlt and Leonhard were my top favourites.

They are literally opposed physically and within their role in the band. Bertl is husky and bold and plays trumpet (high register). He is a soloist but more often second voice. Leonhard is slim with long hair and plays the trombone and the bugle (low register). He is leader of his section. Even in their comedic role they are opposed. Bertl plays on the contrast of his strong figure and the absolute cuteness he can display whereas Leonhard plays on the unsettling presence he can have.

Those two musicians are like the least connected to Joey, but again are a little step that leads to another like Snowy Shaw. The step is that around those years I was fond of comical music groups that could play extremely well and make classical music extra fun. Maybe you can guess by now...

>> 2014 🇬🇧 - Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor. I watched the series back with Eccleston and Tenant and I was already fan, but Peter Capaldi changed it all. He made my feelings taking a rollercoaster. He had a very nuanced way of playing emotions and some scenes are now iconic too me. I think I cried the most during his Doctor period. And even if I cried before for the end of each Doctor, his was the most difficult to overcome. It was the first time I had such a connection with a fictional character through acting.

Where the dots connects

>> 2017 🇺🇸 ‐ Jack Black : It doesn't seem like it but yes, Jack Black is the step that connects all so far. Rock lover. Comedic music group. Crazy voice and energy... And he makes another connexion as he joins acting and singing. But he is not just the junction. He is a big change in the way I was fan before that...

I am very aware Jack Black can't be for everyone because he is over the top. But he has this part of him where he gives everything he has to light the day. And he used humour as shield and sword to make his way through dark times.

Well, maybe you begin to see why I choose this specific line of TAD for my blog's name hmmm 🙂.

I knew Jack Black already because he is part of Hollywood's landscape, but it's in 2017 that I really discovered him and became a fan. I was at a very low time in my life. I had an accident that left me paralysed from one arm for months and it took me a year and a half to regain enough mobility to make it seems I am ok. I was a musician amateur but passionate and that put that part of my life to the trash bin brutally. During my rehabilitation, I couldn't watch any musician play without feeling angry, even those I loved. I stopped listening to music after a while, because I couldn't bear the frustration. Until... I found Tenacious D and Jack Black.

That guy's manic energy pierced through my depression and he was the only one, for a long time, that could fill my always deflating batteries. He was combining the crazy voice of Snowy Shaw with the comedic music I always enjoyed but for rock instead of classical music. And very much, in a way, he saved me.

He is connected to Joey, because he was my very first safe place when I was alone and depressed. It's thanks to him that I'm listening to music again and more importantly able to enjoy it again.

A matter of personality

>> 2020 🇫🇷 - Amixem. He is not an actor or a musician, even if he can play the piano quite well. He is a youtuber who makes mostly feat and fun videos. I could speak about him for hours so I'll try to make it short!

A lot of people classify him as trash content creator, and I was in this side of the barrier once, but during the pandemic I fell in his trash bin and discovered one of the most inspiring human been.

I learned to analyse movies and pictures at school in my uni years, and used it often while watching movies and series. I never thought I would do it on trash youtube content.

If you watch what Amixem does passively, I agreed this is trash. And over all, except some special video, it is not an intellectual content by any means. BUT if you analyse a bit, you'll see that all is not what it seems. This guy is a genius in disguise. He plays with marketing, deconstruct tropes while using them as a joke and still making money out of it, plays with meta narratives in a place that shouldn't have narratives. And this is almost transparent because everything flows. He has built an audiovisual realm, the american way, and he's highly inspired by some of the biggest youtubers, yet the result is nothing alike. It's still very french vibe and he is not afraid to propose 40min to 1h+ long episodes. Like "if it has to be that long to breath, make it that long".

He has like 25-30 persons working with him for the videos and his brand nowadays, but he includes them. And almost from the very beginning. Which youtuber you can say : I know almost every cameramen by their name and recognise them, has well as the set designers, technicians or production organisers.

Well, this is the case with him. As a influencer, he is the product and the brand of is channel, but he lifts the curtain to let us appreciate those who usually are in the shadows and make them part of the show, not only in makings of. The show itself holds its backstage as a part of what makes it fun : people, even special effect, montage comedy etc.

Apart from that, he is a crazy investor passionate about space and wants to go there to see the Earth from above. Even if the odds are little for him to succeed I believe he may have a chance and I want to witness it ☺️.

The link with Joey seems again very small but... this time it's about the guy himself. Even if Amixem is big with his work and has ambitions, he stays an introvert that extroverts himself in front of the camera. He doesn't like celebrity as it pushes too much in his comfort zone and he has a tendency to hide in reaction to that. He also uses humour as a shield (and he needs a very strong one because people are polarised about him and the hate side can be very violent...).

During the pandemic and isolation, his videos helped me to control my angst levels. He helped me to find escapism and made me laugh on a daily basis. Today he is one of my safe place.

Here we are

2021 🇬🇧 - Finally, Joey Batey. The man, the legend 😏

I watched The Witcher in the middle of 2021. I felt in love with Jaskier almost immediately but I consummated the show quite brainlessly. And then when I watched the second season, in early 2022, I was blown away by Joey. The layers of narrative he holds alone within his way of interpreting things in a so short among of screen presence sent me to outter space. I was like : what the hell! What did I miss in the first season? I rewatched all from the start and I was hooked to my core. Like Capaldi's interpretation change the Doctor Who show for me, Joey's Jaskier did the same for The Witcher. And I found him incredibly magnetic. He shines through the screen everytime.

Then, I felt for his personality with the interviews I saw or read. I noticed he had a way with words that I enjoyed a lot. And then I found The Amazing Devil. And every stars aligned.

I found in his poetry everything I loved about my crazy french narrators from the old time, linked with highly metaphorical modern tales, within a way to explore deep feelings which seems easy, but on the surface only.

He literally changed my way of perceiving words! I call him the Van Gogh of words. Because he can hold beauty within torments. In this, his words touched my soul and my inner wounds in a cathartic way. And I remembered that I still need to heal. His songs are a good medicine, patching me up sometimes or deconstructing me. Never brutally. I feel safe to cry when needed.

I find the layers of narrative in his storytelling so compelling. His songs are like the sky's reflection on water but for my feelings. As the weather changes the way I perceive the water, my emotional state makes me understand every song differently, as it emphasises some layers of narratives over others.

How can I tell myself different stories with the exact same words? How can I experience those simultaneously and understand things without knowing the real meaning? He makes me day dream, and turns my brain into jelly sometimes. He is young but writes as he had lived many lives.

I can't praise him enough, as I find myself quite limited with my own words, especially in English. I need metaphors I lack to express everything.

Conclusion

I'm in this tunnel for now and I expect for a long time. I can't wait to discover more of his works as an actor and a musician. What aspect of me would I find while listening to his words?

I don't know yet which step he will be linked to in the future of my fan's journey to whatever, but he is definitely one of the highlights that shines bright.

Now, I can say that my passion for what Joey does is linked to a vinyl disk buried in the sand, old actors and musicians, metal bands and music clowns. What is your story?

See you soon 😈

Credits photo:

Well most of them are google image without references 😑, especially the oldest one. Jack Black, Amixem, Snowy Shaw are from youtube video screenshot.

Alan Rickmam : Jimmy Fallon Talk Show. Christian Descamp : France Info. Patrice Guers : Bassiste Pro. Marco Hietala : .Peter Capaldi : Wales Online. Robert Rother : Prague Proms Festival . Leonhard Paul : Schagerl endorsing page. Joey Batey : TAD website (edited by @erualthewild - thx for putting that amazing photo of him, that I was ignoring the existence for no reason, in my thread 😊)

#my fan's journey #joey batey #the amazing devil #long post #long reads

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Can we take a moment to talk about what a tragic character Minerva is? Y’all know that for the longest time I haven’t been the biggest fan of her, and honestly I’m still not? but I think I might’ve had a breakthrough on why that is. 

Whenever I’ve asked around to see why people find her so appealing or why they consider her their favorite, I’ll get answers like, “she’s such a complex character and she deserved a redemption arc!” or “she should’ve come back to the school with us! Let Minnie be happy, you cowards! Telltale did her dirty! I could write paragraph after paragraph about her!” all sorts of things along those lines… but like, no one seems to want to actually talk about her. I find that interesting? Since when I do follow up with a “care to explain further?” I get nothing. Radio static. Like…. no, talk to me please, I just wanna understand-

Minerva within the context of TFS is such a tragedy. She grew up in a school for troubled youth where all the adults left them for death at the start of the breakout, they had walkers trying to eat the living all around them, and I’m sure she saw her fair share of traumatic violence and despair… but on the bright side, she always had her twin sister, Sophie, and little brother, Tenn. She had her friend and eventual girlfriend, Violet. She had music, and a dorm full of pretty paintings done by Sophie. She and Louis composed a song together to make everyone feel better. There are worse places to live than the school. 

Then one day she got traded away to a bunch of raiders against her will, having no idea what the hell these people were gonna do to her and Sophie. They were made to be soldiers to fight in a war that had nothing to do with them. The delta fucking broke her. If we’re to believe Lilly’s story about the twins, they started their brainwashing process early on when Sophie was still alive, and it seems like Minerva was easier to control as Sophie was still planning a way out and causing trouble. Then, when Sophie convinced her to steal a boat and get the hell out, they got caught and the delta forced her to murder her own twin sister. 

Like…. I’m sorry, not only did Minerva kill her own sister, but she was made to believe that was the right thing to do? That line she says about how she had to prove her loyalty to the place she calls home? That shit’s ingrained in her brain, you can tell that isn’t the first time she’s heard or said that very thing. That is what made her family to the delta. Delta is her home now, her family. Sophie was just a thing that needed to be dealt with. You keep your head down, do as you’re told, and you survive.  You survive and you get to go home, eat a hot meal, take a shower, and be with your delta family.  If not, you end up like Sophie.

What’s also fucked is that Minerva actually cares about these people now. Think about that. After everything they did to her and made her do, she’s been trained to see them as her family and obey. When you save Louis and he kills Dorian, Minerva actually cries out and is visibly hurt by her death. When she’s with the other raiders on land, she's screaming at walkers to get away from them. She cares about the people who made her kill Sophie… and no one ever talks about that??

She fucking hates Clementine. Clementine is just another thing in Minnie’s way. I know the part of the fandom likes to ship these two together and they think it’s hot when they fight and shit, but within the canon text, Minerva wants Clementine gone. Dead. She is the thing stopping her from having her old family merge with her new family. If Clementine hadn’t made them fight, they all would’ve been captured and they’d all be a delta family now. She would’ve had Tenn back. 

Clementine is the problem, she made everyone fight back and that’s why people are dead. Minerva hates her for it… it’s not a “I hate you but like the sexual tension, y’know?” that I see people pretend it is, it’s “you are ruining everything and if I have to, I will kill you myself and I won’t give a second thought about it when they toss your body overboard.”

Like….. seriously, think about how fucked up all of this is. Minerva is a husk of who she was before she was taken away. Sure, you do have to keep in mind that when Tenn and Violet are describing her, their sights are a bit clouded, y’know? But I do believe that she was someone who was kind and cared about people, she wanted to make people feel safe and comforted. 

Now she’s a brainwashed soldier who won’t help the people she used to call friends when they’re about to get limbs cut off. She won’t hesitate to knock someone unconscious or threaten a child.  She’s willing to trick them into being captured with no regard for what’s going to happen to them. … all she knows is this was the mission, and now they all get to be together again back at the delta. 

Then when she finds out there’s a bomb on the boat, she ditches Violet to blow up with it in order to make it to land herself. She loses her shit seeing everyone die and gets her face chewed off by a walker… and then she tries to blow Clementine and AJ up with a grenade. 

Oh, and who can forget the fact that she tracks the group down with plans of murdering Tenn so that they can go to a better place together? And she’ll take down anyone who gets in her way?

Like….. jesus christ, Minerva’s waaaaay too far gone. It’s awful. 

I think that’s what stumps me about why she’s so loved in the way that she is. It’s not that I don’t understand why she’s complex and well-written, I get that perfectly fine. She’s a compelling character study when you comb over all her scenes and take different factors into account.

What I don’t understand is why we tend to just throw everything interesting about her away? For what? 

These days, I never see anyone talking about any of this unless they’re insisting she deserved a redemption arc which…. Eh, I’ll touch on this later. What I mostly see here and mostly other platforms is how great it would be if she and Clementine made out, or hey what if she and Violet got back together if she did come back to the school? Or they just….the best term I have for this is “uwu-ify.” As in she’s reduced to a caricature of a tall, pretty, mean, white lesbian who has “good damage.” 

People insist that Telltale are cowards or bastards because their predictions of her turning on the delta to save Clem and crew didn’t happen. Instead, Minerva ends up being the final baddie you gotta get away from, and she ends up taking someone down with her. But did you really expect to just do a 180 and suddenly decide being brainwashed for over a year was lame and Clementine and friends are cool? Gonna help them out and be with Tenn again? Sure, there’s some left over trauma but love conquers and fixes everything, right?

Uh…. no? That’s not how people work? Honestly, if we entertain the idea that Minerva wasn’t bit and somehow didn’t murder Clementine when they all got back to the school…. romance is the last thing she is ever gonna think of??

I think that’s what bothers me most when reading these au’s and rants about redemption and the entire idea of clemerva as a whole. It’s the same thing that I see happen with Violet- Minerva only has value to fans if she’s in a wlw relationship. By herself, she doesn’t matter. They don’t care about her canon story, they don’t care about Sophie, they don’t care about discussing what could’ve happened if she and Tenn reunited under better circumstances or had a healing recovery together. But why?

Throwing a girlfriend at her isn’t some band aid that’s gonna cover up all the bad she went through?? Having an enemies to lovers romance with Clementine isn’t going to fix a years worth of brainwashing, trauma or the fact that she murdered her own sister and the delta told her she's proved her worth to them?? 

Having the support of those around her is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. The idea of the Ericson crew as a whole trying to help her out and do the best they can to accommodate her is bittersweet since there’s only so much they can do. They’re not trained therapists, which is what Minerva would need and plenty of years ahead of her to work through and come to terms with everything that happened as well as taking steps forward. I’m not saying that she shouldn’t have friends or that she couldn’t have a healthy romantic relationship someday... but that isn’t the solution, y’know? 

I don’t know how else to explain this, but it makes me feel weird that all of this stuff is flat out overlooked or doesn’t appear to matter to fans of her. 

Look, I get it. We all want these characters to be happy. AU’s are a thing, after all. Sometimes we want to forget about the bad things and focus on the good that bring us comfort. You wanna gush about the idea of an AU where the twins never got traded, the raiders didn’t exist, and Clementine got to meet them the way they were before? I feel that, AU’s are super comforting and fun to explore, and my point isn’t to try and shame anyone who has an AU you like this. 

Hell, you think I don’t have days where I pretend mute Louis isn’t a thing because the whole concept of Louis having his tongue cut out of his mouth breaks my fucking heart? No, lot’s of days I just want to forget everything about that route, I want to set aside all the bad and just intake as much clouis fluff as I can get…. But that doesn’t mean I always ignore or refuse to acknowledge the bad just because I don’t like it. I fucking hate the fact that Louis loses his tongue when you don’t save him, but guess what? That’s a canon route you can play, just like any other route, and the possibilities that come with a mute Louis are vast and compelling. 

This is how it is for me… my favorite characters are my favorite for a reason, and I take all the bad with the good. Louis isn’t perfect, and I don’t want him to be. I was to dive into his backstory about why did that to his parents, I like to talk about what he went through with Marlon’s murder and his feelings about AJ and Clementine at the point, I like to view his love of music as bittersweet. He can stand on his own, and while he is a love interest for Clementine, that isn’t his only purpose. 

I know everyone’s different, they express their love for characters in their own ways, but I do have a genuine question: do you guys actually like Minerva?

Believe it or not, I’m not trying to step on toes or make everyone feel defensive which I know is how people will react to this. “You’re just saying all of this to make us feel bad for shipping clemerva! You don’t even like Minnie so you don’t get to say shit!” yeah yeah, I hear you and look, it’s true that she’s not my favorite character. I know I’ve said I hate her in the past but upon reflection and throwing out fandom interpretations.... I don’t hate her. I get it now. She’s a great character study to dissect and analyze and I think she deserves more than what the writers and the fandom have given her. 

And yeah, what I do hate is clemerva, and I’ve explained why. It’s not for me, it makes me uncomfortable, but at the end of the day, who cares? Me not liking it doesn’t mean anything to those who create AU’s for them. They have their reasons, they can do as they please as long as they’re not hurting anyone. I’m just here pointing out things I see and things that bother me in hopes of starting a discussion.

There’s my ramble about Minerva. I’m gonna go make some tea now. 

#twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg sophie #twdg tenn #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg lilly #twdg aj #twdg

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a Chinese, nationally and racially. Racial projection seems to be a common practice in western fandom, doesn't it? I find it a bit... weird to witness the drama ignited upon shipping individuals with different races, or the tendency to separate characters into different "colors" even though the world setting doesn't divide races like that. Such practice isn't a thing here. Mind explaining a bit on this phenomenon?

--

Sure, I can try. But of course, fish aren’t very good at explaining the water they swim in.

Americans aren’t good at detecting our own Americanness, and a lot of what you’re seeing is very much culturally American rather than Western in general. (In much of Europe, “race” is a concept used by racists, or so I’m told, unlike in the US where it’s seen more neutrally.) Majority group members (i.e. me, a white girl) aren’t usually the savviest about minority issues, but I’ll give it a shot.

The big picture is that most US race stuff boils down to our attempts to justify and maintain slavery and that dynamic being applied, awkwardly, to everyone else too, even years after we abolished slavery.

There’s a concept called the “one drop rule” where a person is “black” if they have even one drop of black blood.

We used to outlaw “interracial” marriage until quite recently. (That meant marriage between black people and white people with Asians and Hispanic people and others wedged in awkwardly.) Here’s the Wikipedia article on this, which contains the following map showing when we legalized interracial marriage. The red states are 1967.

That’s within living memory for a ton of people! Yellow is 1948 to 1967. This is just not very long ago at all. (Hell, we only fully banned slavery in 1865, which is also just not that long ago when it comes to human culture.)

Why did we have this bananas-crazy set of laws and this idiotic notion that one remote ancestor defines who you are? It boils down to slavery requiring a constant reaffirming that black people are all the same (and subhuman) while white people are all this completely separate category. The minute you start intermarrying, all of that breaks down. This was particularly important in our history because our system of slavery involved the kids of slaves being slaves and nobody really buying their way out. Globally, historically, there are other systems of slavery where there was more mobility or where enslaved people were debtors with a similar background to owners, and thus the people in power were less threatened by ambiguity in identity.

Post-slavery, this shit hung around because it was in the interests of the people in power to maintain a similar status quo where black people are fundamentally Other.

A lot of our obsession with who counts as what is simply a legacy of our racist past that produced our racist present.

--

The other big factor in American concepts of identity is that we see ourselves as a nation of immigrants (ignoring our indigenous peoples, as usual). A lot of people’s families arrived here relatively recently, and we often don’t have good records of exactly where they were from, even aside from enslaved people who obviously wouldn’t have those records. Plenty of people still identify with a general nationality (”Italian-American” and such), but the nuance the family might once have had (specific region of Italy, specific hometown) is often lost. Yeah, I know every place has immigrants, and lots of people don’t have good records, but the US is one of those countries where families have on average moved around a lot more and a lot more recently than some, and it affects our concepts of identity. I think some of the willingness to buy into the idea of “races” rather than “ethnicities” has to do with this flattening of identity.

New immigrant groups were often seen as Other and lesser, but over time, the ones who could manage it got added to our concept of “whiteness”, which gave them access to those same social and economic privileges.

Skin color is a big part of this. In a system that is founded on there being two categories, white owners and black slaves, skin color is obviously going to be about that rather than being more of a class marker like it is in a lot of the world.

But it’s not all about skin color since we have plenty of Europeans with somewhat darker skin who are seen as generically white here, while very pale Asians are not. I’m not super familiar with all of the history of anti-Asian racism in the US, but I think this persistent Otherness probably boils down to Western powers trying to justify colonial activities in Asia plus a bunch of religious bullshit about predominantly Christian nations vs. ones that are predominantly Buddhist or some other religion.

In fact, a lot of racist archetypes in English can be traced back to England’s earliest colonial efforts in Ireland. Justifying colonizing Those People because they’re subhuman and/or ignorant and in need of paternalistic rulers or religious conversion is at the bottom of a lot of racist notions. Ironic that we now see Irish people as clearly “white”.

--

There are a lot of racist porn tropes and racist cultural baggage here around the idea of black people being animalistic. Racist white people think black men want to rape/steal white women from white men. Black women get seen as hypersexual and aggressive. If this sounds like white people projecting in order to justify murder and rape... well, it is.

Similar tropes get applied to a lot of groups, often including Hispanic and Middle Eastern people, though East Asians come in more for creepy fantasies about endlessly submissive and promiscuous women. This nonsense already existed, but it was certainly not helped by WWII servicemen from here and their experiences in Asia. Again, it’s a projection to justify shitty behavior as what the party with less power was “asking for”.

In porn and even romance novels, this tends to turn up as a white character the audience is supposed to identify with paired with an exotic, mysterious Other or an animalistic sexy rapist Other.

A lot of fandoms are based on US media, so all of our racist bullshit does apply to the casting and writing of those, whether or not the fic is by Americans or replicating our racist porn tropes.

(Obviously, things get pretty hilarious and infuriating once Americans get into c-dramas and try to apply the exact same ideas unchanged to mainstream media about the majority group made by a huge and powerful country.)

--

Politically, within the US, white people have had most of the power most of the time. We also make up a big chunk of the population. (This is starting to change in some areas, which has assholes scared shitless.) This means that other groups tend to band together to accomplish shared political goals. They’re minorities here, so they get lumped together.

A lot of Americans become used to seeing the world in terms of “white people” who are powerful oppressors and “people of color” who are oppressed minorities. They’re trying to be progressive and help people with less power, and that’s good, but it obviously becomes awkward when it’s over-applied to looking at, say, China.

--

Now... fandom...

I find that fandom, in general, has a bad habit of holding things to double standards: queer things must be Good Representation™ even when they’re not being produced for that purpose. Same for ethnic minorities or any other minority. US-influenced parts of fandom (which includes a lot of English-speaking fandom) tend to not be very good at accepting that things are just fantasy. This has gotten worse in recent years.

As fandom has gotten more mainstream here, general media criticism about better representation (both in terms of number of characters and in terms of how they’re portrayed) has turned into fanfic criticism (not enough fics about ship X, too many about ship Y, problematic tropes that should not be applied to ship X, etc.). I find this extremely misguided considering the smaller reach of fandom but, more importantly, the lack of barriers to entry. If you think my AO3 fic sucks, you can make an account and post other fic that will be just as findable. You don’t need money or industry connections or to pass any particular hurdle to get your work out there too.

People also (understandably) tend to be hypersensitive to anything that looks like a racist porn trope. My feeling is that many of these are general porn tropes and people are reaching. There are specific tropes where black guys are given a huge dick as part of showing that they’re animalistic and hypersexual, but big dicks are really common in porn in general. The latter doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing the former unless there are other elements present. A/B/O or dubcon doesn’t mean it’s this racist trope either, not unless certain cliched elements are present. OTOH, it’s not hard for a/b/o tropes to feel close to “animalistic guy is rapey”, so I can see why it often bothers people.

A huge, huge, huge proportion of wank is “all rape fantasies are bad” crap too, which muddies the waters. I think a lot of people use “it’s racist” as an easy way to force others to agree with their incorrect claims that dubcon, noncon, a/b/o, etc. are fundamentally bad. Many fans, especially white fans, feel like they don’t know enough to refute claims of racism, so they cave to such arguments even when they’re transparently disingenuous.

--

Not everyone here thinks this way. I know plenty of people offline, particularly a lot of nonwhite people, who think fandom discourse is idiotic and that the people “protecting” people or characters of color are far more racist than the people writing “bad” fic or shipping the wrong thing.

But in general, I’d say that the stuff above is why a lot of us see the world as white people in power vs. everyone else as oppressed victims, interracial relationships as fraught, and porn about them as suspect. Basically, it’s people trying to be more progressive and aware but sometimes causing more harm than good when those attempts go awry.

#Anonymous

[evanescentjasmine]

I’m going to talk about a little pet peeve of mine with regard to portrayal of poc in fic, TMA specifically since that’s what I mostly read and write for. 

I suppose I should first start by saying that, of course, poc are not a monolith, and I’m certain there are other poc who have many different views on this issue. And also this post is in no way meant to demonise, shame, or otherwise discourage people from writing poc in fic if they’re doing something differently. This is just a thing I’ve been noodling on for a while and have had several interesting conversations with friends about, and now that I think I’ve figured out why I have this pet peeve, I figured I’d gather my thoughts into a post.

As a result of the fact we have no canonical racial, ethnic, or religious backgrounds for our main TMA cast, we’ve ended up with many diverse headcanons, and it’s absolutely lovely to see. I’m all for more diversity and I’m always delighted to see people’s headcanons. 

However, what often happens is I’ll be reading a fic and plodding along in a character’s PoV and get mention of their skin colour. And nothing else. I find this, personally, extremely jarring. In a short one-shot it makes sense, because you’re usually touching on one scenario and then dipping out. Likewise if the fic is in a different setting, is cracky, or is told from someone else’s PoV, that’s all fine. But if I’m reading a serious long-fic close in the poc’s head and...nothing? That’s just bizarre to me.

Your heritage, culture, religion, and background, all of those affect how you view the world, and how the world views you in return. How people treat you, how you carry yourself, what you’re conscious of, all of that shifts. And the weird thing is that many writers are aware of this when it comes to characters being ace or trans or neurodivergent—and I’m genuinely pleased by that, don’t get me wrong. Nothing has made my ace self happier than the casual aceness in TMA fics that often resonates so well with my experience. But just as gender, orientation, and neurodivergence change how a character interacts with their world, so do race, ethnicity, and religion. 

As a child, I spent a couple of years in England while my mother was getting her degree. Though I started using Arabic less and less, my mother still spoke to me almost exclusively in Arabic at home. We still ate romy cheese and molokhia and the right kind of rice, though we missed out on other things. She managed to get an Egyptian channel on TV somehow, which means I still grew up with different cultural touchstones and make pop-culture references that I can’t share with my non-Arabic-speaking friends. She also became friends with just about every Egyptian in her university, so for those years I had a bevy of unrelated Uncles and Aunties from cities all over Egypt, banding together to go on outings or celebrate our holidays.

As an adult who sometimes travels abroad solo, and as a fair-skinned Arab who’s fluent in English, usually in a Western country the most I’ll get is puzzled people trying to parse my accent and convinced someone in my family came from somewhere. When they hear my name, though, that shifts. I get things like surprise, passive-aggressive digs at my home region, weird questions, insistence I don’t look Egyptian (which, what does that even mean?) or the ever-popular, ever-irritating: Oh, your English is so good!

At airports, with my Egyptian passport, it’s less benign. I am very commonly taken aside for extra security, all of which I expect and am prepared for, and which always confuses foreign friends who insisted beforehand that surely they wouldn’t pull me aside. Unspoken is the fact I, y’know, don’t look like what they imagine a terrorist would. But I’m Arab and that’s how it goes, despite my, er, more “Western” leaning presentation. 

This would be an entirely different story if I were hijabi, or had darker skin, or a more pronounced accent. I am aware I’m absolutely awash with privilege. Likewise, it would be different if I had a non-Arab name and passport. 

So it’s slightly baffling to me as to why a Jon who is Pakistani or Indian or Arab and/or Black British would go through life the exact same way a white British character would. 

Now, I understand that race and ethnicity can be very fraught, and that many writers don’t want to step on toes or get things wrong or feel it isn’t their place to explore these things, and certainly I don’t think it’s a person’s place to explore The Struggles of X Background unless they also share said background. I’m not saying a fic should portray racism and microaggressions either (and if they do, please take care and tag them appropriately), but that past experiences of them would affect a character. A fic doesn’t have to be about the Arab Experience With Racism (™) to mention that, say, an Arab Jon headed to the airport in S3 for his world tour would have been very conscious to be as put together as he could, given the circumstances, and have all his things in order. 

And there’s so much more to us besides. What stories did your character grow up with? What language was spoken at home? Do they also speak it? If not, how do they feel about that? What are their comfort foods? Their family traditions? The things they do without thinking? The obscure pop-culture opinions they can’t even begin to explain? (Ask me about the crossover between Egyptian political comedy and cosmic horror sometime…)

I’m not saying you’ll always get it right. Hell, I’m not saying I always get it right either. I’m sure someone can read one of my fics and be like, “nope, this isn’t true to me!” And that’s okay. The important thing, for me, is trying.

Because here’s the thing. 

I want you to imagine reading a fic where I, a born and raised Egyptian, wrote white characters in, say, a suburb in the US as though they shared my personal experiences. It’s a multi-generational household, people of the same gender greet with a kiss on each cheek, lunch is the main meal, adults only move out when they get married, every older person they meet is Auntie or Uncle, every bathroom has a bidet, there’s a backdrop of Muslim assumptions and views of morality, and the characters discuss their Eid plans because, well, everyone celebrates Eid, obviously.

Weird, right? 

So why is this normal the other way around? 

Have you ever stopped to wonder why white (and often, especially American) experiences are considered the default? The universal inoffensive base on which the rest is built? 

Yes, I understand that writers are trying to be inoffensive and respectful of other backgrounds. But actually, I find the usual method of having the only difference be their skin colour or features pretty reductive. We’re more than just a paint job or a sprinkle of flavour to add on top of the default. Many of us have fundamentally different life experiences and ignoring this contributes to that assumption of your experience being universal. 

Yes, fic is supposed to be for fun and maybe you don’t want to have to think about all this, and I get that completely. I have all the respect in the world for writers who tag their TMA fics as an American AU, or who don’t mention anyone’s races. I get it. But when you have characters without a canonical race and you give them one, you’re making a decision, and I want you to think about it. 

Yes, this is a lot of research, but the internet is full of people talking about themselves and their experiences. Read their articles, read their blogs, read their twitter threads, watch their videos, see what they have to say and use it as a jumping-off point. I’m really fond of the Writing With Color blog, so if you’re not sure where to start I’d recommend giving them a look. 

Because writers outside of the Anglosphere already do this research in order to write in most fandoms. Writers of colour already put themselves in your shoes to write white characters. And frankly, given the amount of care that many white writers put into researching Britishisms, I don’t see why this can’t extend to other cultural differences as well.

#the magnus archives #tma #poc in fanfic #representation #tw racism #long post

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Club ‘Illusion’

Fandom: DC x Marvel Pairing: Avenger x Batfam | Reader x Loki Word count: 3k (yes I can still write things over 1.5k words) Summay: With your hero work taking up most of your time you decide to find an outlet - that outlet turns out to be your own soon to be opened club. On the V.I.P. list for that evening? Two of the most important groups of people in your life. The only problem: they have yet to meet each other, not to mention the little fact that you’ve been keeping not just the club a secret... Requested by a universal fantastic Anon: If requests are still open, can I request a BatBoys x reader x Avengers where both teams meet through reader and fight because they were talking about which team reader likes more? Pairing would be your choice.

“Where does this go, boss?” a man in a dungaree holding a box full of musical equipment, chords and the like asked you and interrupted the conversation you were having with the DJ. “Bring it up these stairs there and then set it onto the black clothed table, Marianne will be there in a minute, could you help her set it up? “Sure thing boss,” the man nodded and trudged over to the direction you had waved him to. You turned back to Marianne - the mentioned DJ - who had been your friend for years and she was the first person you had hired when you had decided to take the advice of your Avengers issued therapist and find an outlet for your creativity and passion outside of your time-consuming hero work all over the planet and the universe. So you decided to use your funds from years of getting paid by Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne (even though you continued telling them you didn’t want their money) to do something fun and - in the spirit of a certain green-themed archer - open a nightclub. You had kept everything under wraps, the only people knowing about it were the contractors, decorators and Marianne and they all pledged secrecy, but tonight you would lift the metaphorical curtain. With the Avengers and Waynes (including non-Wayne-named) invited and the news about this new club opening all over social media doing the rest you were positively sure that tonight would be a great night. “Y/N?” Marianne’s voice ripped you out of your daydreams and you had to shake your head free of other thoughts and focus back onto the matter at hand, with last touches still having to be made. “Uhm- yeah, sorry, I was lost in thoughts.” “Don’t worry, I’m sure everything will go just fine. Look around you, this place is amazing, everyone did such an amazing job,” she complimented and you couldn’t help but follow her advice and actually take a look around.The room was very spacious and even though it was almost empty except the worker getting ready for tonight and a few others who helped set some stuff up. In the middle was a lower dance area with small sets of steps leading up, the floor in a chess pattern, but neon techni-coloured instead of black and white, all around that area were booths to sit in and on the far end of the room, a bit off of the dance-ground were two circular bars that were fully stocked with every drink you could ever need or want. On the other end was a stage for life-performances and ten feet above that was a sort of balcony that served as the DJ-booth with a view over the entire club. And yet again on the other side, above the bars, was a V.I.P. room which was a bit more soundproof and where a conversation could be actually held, with a one-way-mirror facing the club. The way the lights reflected off the surfaces and the sound carried through the space really confirmed what Marianne had said, the place was pretty amazing. “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you took a deep calming breath and smiled. “Yes I am, but now we gotta get going, I’ll be up in the booth if you need me. You better give the final briefing to the staff,” she instructed before turning around and walking away. Deciding that taking her advice was the best course of action you went to go to the staff room, when Marianne called out to you yet again, shouting after you: “Don’t forget that you gotta be getting ready in an hour, your special guest should be arriving around then.”

The evening was starting to greet the people and the sun had started to disappear a few minutes ago when a group of five and a group of six gathered before a clearly newly constructed building - a club - with the name ‘Illusion’ in enlightened letters on the front. A long line of interested people, mostly young adults around 25, stretched before what seemed to be the entrance, but it seemed to still be closed. Both of the groups looked around a little bit confused, but they didn’t notice each other, or at least found nothing suspicious about the other. Now, if you were to take a very close look at both of these groups beside each other you’d find a lot of similarities, like - for example - the redeemed ‘bad-guy’ who now acted as professional sarcastic commentator, the goofball with a history in circus, the genius, philanthropist, playboy billionaire and the bad-ass tech-savvy red-head. Not to mention all of their past-time ‘hobbies’. And yet, with all these great intellect and talent collected in front of the club, they did not seem to be able to figure out what they were doing there or that there was another group in just about the same situation. The doors to the club opened and a bouncer and two servers walked out, the bouncer stationating himself before the entrance and starting to check people in, and the two servers looking around for a second before catching sight of the groups. They exchanged a few words before each of them walked over to the collection of people. The group from New York was brought over to the front entrance, allowed to skip the line and enter the club, while the Gotham-group was brought in through the back-entrance, but even though the place where they entered the club was different, they were yet both stil led to the same room, up above the bars behind a one-way-mirror.

You had changed into your sparkle-y, y/f/c outfit with make-up that would glow in the ultraviolet light that would shine all over the club later and your hair in a fashionable hairdo, perfectly prepared for your great night, with Marianne’s outfit mirroring yours just in different colours. With a clipboard you made your last round through the different areas, checking in with your staff and manager to make sure that everything would go flawless and that they could come to you with questions or if they needed help - if necessary you yourself would change into the gender-neutral uniform and start serving people. In the end the last area you had to check before meeting your special guests in the V.I.P. area was the DJ booth. “Everything good?” you asked, enjoying the last moments of relative silence before the booming music would start as you leant over the balcony railing and eyed your own little business. “Yes, I tried it out during soundcheck earlier while you were getting dressed, it’s some sweet equittement you got here, a Dream,” Marianne sighed in bliss and you could see how happy she was to be able to work with this equipment that had certainly cost enough to deserve that demeanor from her. “You know, if you like it this much, I could use a full-time DJ,” you tried to mention as nonchalant as possible, but you could feel her piercing, unbelieving gaze in your neck. “Are you serious? I thought you had employed one over a month ago. I thought tonight was a one-time-thing.” “Oh well, I did talk to one but then I listened to some of his stuff and compared to you it’s like a ten years old project on garage band. But don’t worry, I get it, you’re right. I’m sure you have way better gigs lined up left and right, I’ll find someone,” you shrugged, a little bit disappointed that Marianne didn’t seem even remotely interested in working full-time, only to be stopped when she grabbed your shoulders and began to almost shake you. “Are you kidding, I would love to work here full-time!!! This job would be a dream: the equipment, the atmosphere, my employer! DJ’s would kill for an opportunity like this. That’s why I was so confused, I thought you’d have plenty of better DJs lining up for this job,” she gushed before hugging you close and almost sobbing with happiness and thanking you for this opportunity. You agreed that you’d talk the details over later before telling her to start the music since people started to walk in and you could see a certain group of Heroes being led by one of your bar-women walking towards the left stairs to the V.I.P. room and another group of vigilantes led by one of the security-members being brought to the elevator on the right side to exactly the same room. “Okay, I gotta go, Got me some guests waiting,” you winked at Marianne who just waved you off, too immersed in her element. With quick steps and a happy smile you walked along the side of the room and followed where you saw the Avengers walk up, a little skip in your step. Honoring your word, both groups had been brought into the V.I.P. area which was big enough for them to both sit inside it without having to sit together, with the security guard taking position at the wall and the bar-women at the small, private bar. Another calming sigh later you opened the door and walked into the room immediately catching the eyes of all occupants of the room and as you nodded at your two employees in thanks, both groups of superheroes had stood up to greet you, seemingly only now realizing the presence (or rather the reason of the presence) of each other. “Hello guys, it’s so nice to have you here,” you greeted all 11 with a big gesture before mentioning to the window, “So, what do you think?” Confused eyes found you and they looked between each other and you, only one pair standing out, but seemingly not ready to reveal themselves properly yet. “It looks amazing,” Stephanie, who somehow managed to look perfectly club-fitting even in her casual clothes with her blond hair laying over her shoulder in a braid, and jumped towards you and engulfed you in a sisterly hug like she always did, “How did you get us in? I saw the adverts for this place all over social media and the line was enormous. Do you know the owner?” You held back a chuckle and laid your head to the side. “You could say so,” you gave her a cheeky smile that she couldn’t quite decipher, before turning to face the complete group, “But first things first, introduction.” Since both of the groups were still standing separately enough to be distinguished between you motioned to the Waynes. “May I introduce my somewhat-adopted-not-legally-but-emotionally-family. This is Bruce Wayne - I bet you all have heard of him - these are his sons, Richard Grayson - you can call him Dick - and Jason Todd, and his daughter Stephanie - or Steph - Brown and close family friend Barbara Gordon,” you motioned to each of them in turn with their names and they nodded in greeting at the others, still unknown to them. Then you turned to the others and said: “And may I introduce to you my first ever superhero team slash found family group also known as the Avengers - or rather a view of them anyways. Here we have Tony Stark - I’m sure you heard of him too, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, our two super soldiers Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and the trickster god himself - Loki.” “Wait, Loki-Loki? The ‘battle-of-New-York’ Loki?” Jason asked in a surprised, but also amused manner and you could almost hear Loki roll his eyes. “Oh please, get over it Mortal,” he answered sarcastically, but before you could intervene Stephanie took her turn. “Oh you’re one to talk Jay, let’s not forget that.” You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at that and even though the Avengers seemed confused at how easily that shut Jason up, they accepted it as the end of that part of the conversation. For a few minutes the gathered people - a few of your favorite people in the world - started making their own introductions and you were happy that you saw them get along well. Waiting for a good opportunity to get into the conversation and get back to what you wanted to tell them, you were stopped from taking it when Dick motioned at Loki’s outfit. A deep-green suit, black dress-shirt under it, a golden tie, black hair slicked back and black asgardian armor boots - putting that certain touch to it - adorned him and you couldn’t blame Dick when he stated: “How comes none of us got a warning that we’d need to wear something fancy, but he did?” It was only now that the people who had come there with Loki had noticed his outfit and it was Tony who raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the grey jumper you said was ‘nice enough’ to be seen out with when you have to be out with us annoying mortals?” “Well, I can’t let Lady Y/N be the only one who shows that she has a sense of elegance and fashion in this despicable planet, can I now?” Loki answered sarcastically and now you wanted to roll your eyes at him calling you ‘Lady Y/N’, something you had told him to stop ages ago. “Loki isn’t actually wearing this,” you tried to clear things up, ignoring Loki’s remark, only to receive even more confusing looks, causing you to sigh. “Loki is a trickster god, he uses Illusions, he’s probably still in his Pajamas, he just makes it seem like he is wearing this.” Before anyone would start bombarding the god and you with questions, you took hold of  the conversation and used your stern hero voice to gain the attention. “Now I’m sure you’re all wondering why I invited my favorite people to a newly opened nightclub and like Stephanie has already mentioned, one that is hard to get into nonetheless. The reason is-” you made a pause to emphasize, “-that it is my club.” A wave of confused ‘what?’s hit you and you quickly explained: “Well, I needed to find another outlet than hanging around with other heroes and busting bad guys and after a talk with Oliver - he’s a friend from Starling city,” you explained for the Avengers, “I decided that opening a club was just what I needed. That’s the reason I was so absent the past few weeks, I was busy planning and employing and stuff, but from now on everything should run itself. I will be able to perfectly split my time into three for the club, hero work and friends and family.” “That’s so cool!” Stephanie squealed and gave you a high five and the others joined in congratulating you, telling you how amazing everything looked and that they were proud of you. “Boss?” a voice interrupted from behind you and you turned to see one of your staff members, “Could I talk to you for a second?”   “Excuse me for a bit, I gotta go and run my business,” you cheekily smiled and left your two favorite teams to make conversation as you and the women left through the door that lead to the stairs. “So what’s the matter? What can I he-” you were rudely interrupted when the women’s form morphed into a taller, sleeker one of a certain trickster and promptly continued to press you against the door you had just left through. “Well, well, look who’s getting impatient,” you giggled as he pressed a kiss to your jawline. That was another secret that you had kept from your teams and even from Marianne. Loki and you. If you were being quite honest you were not sure how the two of you became a thing, but somehow you did and now the two of you were waiting for the right moment to tell the rest of the team that you were a lot more than just colleagues. “Can you blame me? You should’ve told me about this, beloved, then I’d known that you were not growing sick of me. I was all worried when you kept on disappearing,” he muttered as he relished in the closeness with you. Slightly shocked at this you grabbed his broad shoulders and pushed him back slightly. “How could you ever think that, Loki? I love you, I could never grow sick of you,” you assured him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. “That is very good to know, beloved, and I’ll make sure to remind you of that whenever you need,” he winked and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, okay, but I think I have to go back now, we can pick this up again later.” You turned around and opened the door again only to catch what was being said. “We’re obviously her favorites, I mean this club is in New York, not Gotham, why do you think that is?” “Oh shut your mouth, that means nothing. You heard what she said, we’re her family, we’re her brothers and sisters. The Demon is the best proof of that.” “Which Demon?” “Oh please, she called us her family too. After all we got all the appeal of you, but we also have gods.” “She has dinner every second weekend with Superman, an amazonian goddess, the king of atlantis and a world-class magician.” “Well with us she has the world's strongest AI, a world class witch AND the sorcerer supreme, two timeless soldiers, the world's fastest man and the god of thunder.” “Oh please, our fastest man could beat your fastest man in his sleep, not to mention that we have multiple of them.” “Well then bring it on” After having heard enough you looked at Loki, back at the group - and the illusion Loki that was standing bored beside them - and back at Loki, before closing the door again. “You know what, I think I’ll just let them talk that over for a bit.” “Yeah, I think that would be best,” Loki agreed, but he was clearly amused. “What do you think they’ll do when they find out that I am actually your favorite?” he asked teasingly and snug his arms around your waist. “Honestly I’m not sure you’d survive that…”

#Loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #dc x reader #dc #marvel #marvel x reader #avengers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Stephanie Brown #barbara gordon #marvel x dc #crossover

[scuttling]

First Dates

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 6,151 Tags: SFW, First dates, Making out, Phone calls, Running, Yoga, Fluff Summary: After California, Aaron and Sophie go on three perfectly imperfect dates. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 1 year-1 year 3 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! “Jet sweet jet,” Prentiss says as they board the plane after California, and Aaron seconds it; the good thing is it’s only Friday afternoon, so at least they get a head start to the weekend, barring another emergency case—not that he doesn’t have piles of work to do, as usual, but it pleases him to think he might get the chance to see Sophie at some point, in an unofficial capacity.

“You know, 14 is when we start to make our own musical choices. Our cognitive development evolves at that age and we start to form our own cultural identity,” he hears Reid say as he sinks down into his seat, headphones hanging around his neck. He and Sophie must be having a conversation about music, because she nods easily.

“That makes sense, actually,” she says, taking the chair across from him. “I remember being obsessed with Bon Jovi around that age, and I was definitely making decisions with my pants.”

Well that’s an interesting piece of information for her to divulge. Reid blushes a little, and pulls on his headphones. Sophie pops in one earbud, looks up at Aaron, smiles, then looks down at her phone and starts typing.

SC: What?

AH: What, what? he replies.

SC: You’re staring.

AH: Maybe I just think you’re worth staring at.

He feels cheesy for saying it, but she grins.

SC: Sure, okay.

SC: Are you going to do work?

AH: You know me.

SC: That’s a yes.

SC: In case I don’t get to talk to you… will you call me tonight?

AH: Absolutely.

She tucks away her phone, succumbs to her—podcast, he guesses by the slight look of concentration on her face—and he works on his paperwork in relative silence, with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“So what are you up to? What do you do when you get home from traveling?” he asks over the phone that night, after they’ve made a little small talk.

“Well, I put a record on—it’s low, so you probably can’t hear it. Bob Dylan.” She’s right, he can’t hear it, but knowing what she chose makes him smile.

“Bob Dylan, Bon Jovi… Your taste in music isn’t what I would have expected.”

“I’ve always been a little behind the times when it comes to music. I like to be able to rely on my faithful favorites.” She pauses, taking a drink maybe, and he can hear kitchen sounds in the background. “I took a nice, hot bath, opened a bottle of wine. I usually make some kind of comfort food, if I have time to stop at the market.” It’s only 8, so that, along with the kitchen sounds, has him betting she’s whipping something up for herself.

“Mmm, what’s on the menu?”

“It’s a dish my papa always used to make when we were sick. It doesn’t sound great—fagioli su pane tostato, which means beans on toast. It’s white beans cooked in this olive oil broth and then served on sourdough toast rubbed with garlic. It tastes so much better than it sounds.”

“It sounds good when you say it in Italian. Maybe we could make it together, some night.” He hopes he’s not imagining the smile in her voice when she replies.

“I’d like that a lot. So what do you do to unwind after traveling?”

“I have a beer, take a long, hot shower—I have a great shower. Sometimes I freeze meals and I’ll warm something up if I feel like it, but tonight it’s Indian takeout.” He takes a sip of said beer, sprawls out further on the couch.

“Oh, what did you get? Indian food is great, I love chana masala on a comfort food day.”

“Ah, I got butter chicken and samosas. My usual; very unoriginal.”

“Can’t go wrong with a samosa though, yum. What else do you like to do to relax? No offense, but you always seem just as stressed on Mondays as you do on Fridays.” He chuckles at that, can see how that would be true.

“Well I have work to do tonight, but on our free weekends I go for a run in the park instead of my neighborhood, or very rarely, I get to play golf.”

“Hmm, you play golf?” Her tone of voice is low, but light, and he struggles to figure out her intent behind that.

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me…”

“Not teasing, I’m intrigued. I’ve never been golfing or even watched golf before. Mostly I’m trying to visualize you in the little golf outfit, though.” He’s grinning his face off, he’s sure, but he can’t help it; it feels good to flirt with her, to be flirted with by her, openly now. “I run too, or I like kickboxing, Pilates. I don’t always have time to get to the gym anymore, so I do home workouts when I can. Yoga every day.” So, he knows she does yoga, is always packing her yoga blanket when they travel for cases, but left to sit and imagine it for a moment… how she looked on vacation, tiny outfit, bendy body...

“Talk about something to visualize,” he adds, very boldly, he thinks, and she hums down the line. He hopes his flirting affects her the way hers affects him.

“Yeah, we were doing so good there for a minute and now I can’t think of anything but you in a polo and khakis. Must be the wine.”

“Is that something you find sexy? A polo and khakis? That’s practically church attire.”

“Where you’re concerned, there’s not much I don’t find sexy.” He chuckles, runs his hand through his hair—he knows he looks alright, isn’t un attractive or anything, but sexy? She might be overselling it a little bit.  “I should probably rein that in. Sorry.”

“No, it’s… I like that you feel that way.” He wants to say, ‘if you find me even one tenth as sexy as I find you, it would be a miracle’, but his self-esteem isn’t quite that low. And his doorbell rings. “My delivery is here, muting you for a second.”

“Should I let you go?” she asks when he returns. He can hear the sound of her spoon clinking against her bowl, assumes she’s getting ready to eat, too.

“No. I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d like to listen to you talk some more.”

“Okay. What do you want to hear about?”

“I’d like to hear more about your band in Chicago. Did you write music?”

“One of the guys in my band wrote the music, I just sang it; didn’t have much to say.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he says honestly, because she is always thoughtful and insightful, so smart.

“Well the Sophie you know now is much more open, if you can imagine that. I used to be very closed off. The team helps; hard to be closed off when you’re around someone 24/7.”

“I’m glad you feel that the BAU has been good for you; you’ve been very good for us. And you said you sing at your friend’s bar sometimes? I might have to crash one of these nights so I can see you in action.” She laughs, a little self conscious.

“It's really nothing. Just a good way to blow off some steam. So how about you? Are you musically inclined or anything?”

“I can play the guitar.” Her spoon clinks against her bowl in the background again, and she swallows a bite.

“Hold on. You play guitar? This is important information.” He chuckles.

“How so?”

“Because it’s hot.”

“Maybe I should amend that: I could play the guitar. I haven’t in probably… five years? So I may be completely horrible.”

“Nope, doesn’t matter. If you still own a guitar, you can keep the hotness.”

They both eat, chatting in between bites, and they’ve been on the phone for two hours when she starts yawning. He suddenly has a brilliant idea.

“Do you want to meet up and go for a run tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, I would really like that,” she says, sounding a little more awake. “Is it a date? Or just two people hanging out that want to see each other naked?” He laughs out loud.

“You want to see me naked? I thought you wanted to see me in khakis.”

“Yes, I want to see you naked; I thought that much was clear when I tried undressing you the other day. I want to see both.”

“It’s a date, then. If you want it to be. I was still working on a plan...”

“No plan necessary. I’m easy to please: I just want to see you, in running clothes or golf clothes or no clothes.”

“I’ll text you the address. Meet me there at 7?”

“It’s a date.” The next morning, he is sitting in his car at the park, and he looks up from his phone to see Sophie walking toward him, impossibly beautiful for 7 AM. Her hair is pulled back in a thick, wavy ponytail, face clear of makeup and looking radiant, softly smiling, and he swears his heart skips a beat.

Isn’t it a little too soon for beat skipping? This is only their first date, after all.

“Good morning,” she says, leaning in his window. She looks around the parking lot, which is fairly secluded at this time of the morning. “How are you?”

“A little tired, but good,” he replies and her smile grows brighter. “You?”

“I’m good. Probably shouldn’t have kept you up so late talking. You need your beauty sleep.” She reaches out to brush a hand over the hair at his temple, and he closes his eyes for a moment, content.

“Well you obviously don’t. How do you look like that at 7 AM?”

“This?” she asks, gesturing to her face and body, as if he needed a reason to look. She is fit and perky in black leggings and a University of Chicago t-shirt, and he mentally hopes that she’s not faster than him, or her ass is going to be very distracting. “Just rolled out of bed and came down. Nothing special about this.”

“I beg to differ.” She leans back in, arms crossed casually, smiles again.

“Well you’re sweet. Hey, have you ever run into someone from work here?” He scans the lot as if her question caused one of their coworkers to materialize out of thin air, then realizes he’s being silly.

“No, I haven’t so far. Why do you ask?” Ducking her head, she looks a little shy, though the corners of her lips are turned up.

“I was just wondering if I’ll get to kiss you today.”

There goes his heart, skipping beats again.

He leans forward, a hand on her cheek, and presses his mouth to hers, slow and soft. He’d almost forgotten how nice it is to kiss someone who likes you—the shared breath, the soft smack of lips, the reluctance to break the kiss—and he touches her chin as they separate. When she opens her eyes, they look dreamy, and he preens a little at causing that reaction.

“Okay, yeah. That’s nice.” He huffs a laugh and she steps away from the car, giving him space to exit. “Ready to run?”

“Was kind of hoping to kiss some more,” he teases, but he climbs out of the car and locks up.

They keep pace together well, chatting easily about their plans for the day, and Sophie points out every dog they pass, which is so endearing his face almost hurts from smiling.

“What is it?” she asks as he shakes his head, laughs, when they pass a corgi puppy that is, admittedly, adorable.

“You’re cute, that’s all. It’s nice to see joy on your face when our lives are usually surrounded by darkness.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to see it on yours, too.” She reaches out to touch his cheek, and he presses against it.

As far as dates go, this one is off to a beautiful start.

“That was fun. I enjoyed spending the morning with you,” she says as they walk back to their cars. He is a little winded, and she isn’t. It’s not entirely fair.

“I agree, it was fun. It’s nice to have a running partner.”

“Is that all I am?” she asks with an innocent expression, and he shakes his head.

“Absolutely not.” He leans in for a quick, sweet kiss that feels as natural as the slower, more passionate kisses they’ve shared, and they both pull back smiling. “Are you hungry?”

“We just ran 4 miles, I’m starving. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a very casual diner around the corner that makes great breakfast; I’m sure they won’t mind all your sweat,” he teases, gesturing to her shirt.  He’s sweatier by far, which makes it so funny, and she laughs.

“Rude, but I’m in. Lead the way.”

The diner is a favorite of his, somewhere he goes every Saturday he runs in the park. He’s a very habit-driven person, and it wouldn’t feel right to leave without stopping by; that he gets to bring Sophie is just the icing on the cake.

“Do you usually get the same thing when you come here, or are you adventurous?” she asks, looking over the menu.

“I am not adventurous. I get a western omelette with mushrooms, potatoes on the side, almost religiously.” She smiles at him over the menu, and he wonders if she likes that quality, or if he’s one wrong comment away from being seen as an old man and not ‘boyfriend material’. He wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling self conscious about his age, where she’s concerned.

“When I find something I like I am also not adventurous. I stick with what I know.”

“Hi there. You have a friend today, Mr. Hotchner.” He smiles at the voice of his favorite waitress, though he wishes she wouldn’t have made him sound like he’s friendless any other time. She stands between his chair and Sophie’s, grinning.

“Yes Julia, this is Miss Cortes.” Sophie reaches out her hand with a warm smile.

“Sophie, if you like. Nice to meet you, Julia. This guy comes here a lot, huh?”

“Oh yes, he’s one of my favorite regulars: Kind, patient, and easy to please.”

“Great qualities in a man,” Sophie jokes, and he’s never heard Julia laugh so hard. She tends to have that effect on people, he thinks. “I feel special, then, being invited to your spot,” she says, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm fairly certain you’re the first person he’s ever brought, so you must be special, hon.” Julia gives her a wink, and he’d be embarrassed but… she’s right. And he didn’t invite her here lightly. Sharing this place means something to him. “So I know your fella wants the western with mushrooms, potatoes on the side, OJ with his coffee. How about you, sweetie?”

“Oh, um,” Sophie begins, and it looks like she’s blushing at the whole ‘fella’ thing. It’s too cute. “Mixed grill please, with cheddar, and I’ll have orange juice too. Thank you.”

When Julia walks away, Sophie crosses her arms on the table, looks at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just… enjoying myself. Being with you.” She reaches out a hand, and he takes it, smiling softly. They don’t move until Julia comes back with their plates and they need to make room.

“This has been the most fun date I’ve ever been on. I don’t want it to end,” she says as they walk back to the parking lot, bellies full of food.

“But?”

“But I know inviting you back to my place wouldn’t be a great idea yet. Well, it would be a great idea, but I know that taking it slow is important. And I can’t promise I wouldn’t get handsy again.”

“Taking it slow is important,” he agrees, and he leans down to kiss her, warm, lingering, “but maybe we could get handsy after our second date.”

“Mmm. I’m content with just kissing if you keep kissing me like that. Touching will just be a bonus.” They kiss more, easy, casual kisses that make them both smile. “So you want to go on another date with me?” she asks as they approach her car.

“Absolutely. I really like you.” He takes her hands in his, squeezes them. “Like you said before, I think it was something I’ve been trying not to feel for a while.”

“I think there’s a lot you try not to feel. I’m glad you’re willing to give me a chance.” They kiss again, and it feels like goodbye. “Are you sure you can’t go to the farmers’ market with me?” He’d love to, but he has to do some extra work to make up for last night and this morning.

“Yeah, I wish I could. Next week, for sure.”

“Okay, that sounds good. I’ll let you go—for the record, I don’t want to,” she says, and she takes a step back, so their arms are stretched further.

“Neither do I. I’ll call you later,” he promises, and he drops her hands, walks away.

When he looks back, she’s looking at him too, soft, and she waves goodbye.

He’s officially a goner.

“Did you have a good time at the farmers’ market?” he asks later, when they speak on the phone that evening.

“Oh yeah, great haul. I just hope I get to eat it all before we inevitably get called to leave town. I should freeze stuff like you. There was music, too, and so many dogs. How was your day?”

“It was good, productive.” She chuckles softly.

“Sounds like a blast.”

“I had my fun with you, this morning. And now.”

“Aw. That makes me happy. I had fun too. And I love talking on the phone with you. It’s my favorite part of the day.” He can hear the water running in the background. “What are you doing now?”

“Are you sure you want to hear? It’s very sexy.” She hums, thoughtful.

“Then yes, absolutely I want to hear.”

“I’m folding laundry.”

“I know you said that as a joke, but I can find a way to make it arousing. It’s a gift I have, apparently, where you’re concerned.” It’s his turn to hum down the line.

“Really? Tell me more.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m thinking of your arms flexing as you fold. Thick, careful fingers. The look on your face when you concentrate. Then, of course, it’s your clothes, so I’ll think of you putting them on… taking them off. See? Laundry is now sexy. It’s a talent.”

“That is impressive. What are you doing?”

“I’m prepping my fruit and veggies for the week. I got some flowers, so I’ll put them in a vase. Then maybe watch a movie.”

“Okay, that just sounds sweet.”

“Well I am sweet, Mr. Hotchner,” she says innocently, and he grins.

“Of course you are. What movie?”

“I think Bringing Up Baby. It always makes me laugh.”

“That’s Cary Grant, right?”

“Yes, I love Cary Grant—so tall, dark, handsome… I guess I have a type.”

They discuss movies some more, their favorite classics, her favorite actors. The night is winding down, though, and he has more work to do.

“Are you going to run tomorrow?” he asks when it’s clear the conversation will be ending soon.

“I think you wore me out today, so probably just some yoga in the park. You could come with me; have you ever done yoga?”

“No, but I’d be happy to try. What time?”

“Let’s say 8? I’ll send you the address to the park I like, and then I can treat you to breakfast at my spot.”

“Oh, so it’s a date, then,” he says, leading, and she laughs softly.

“Yes, it’s a date. I have a mat you can use, so just bring yourself and some water and I’ll take care of the rest.” “So this is called Cat Pose - just think Halloween cartoon cat,” Sophie explains the following morning, from her hands and knees, rounding her back so she looks just like the image she mentioned. “When you alternate with Cow Pose, it’s the best stretch, like waking up late on a Sunday morning and stretching in the sun coming through the curtains.”

It’s a great thought, makes him imagine Sophie sprawled across his bed, brown skin, dark hair, soft lips, smooth legs…

“Aaron?” He blinks at the sound of his name, turns to face her, and she’s smiling softly. “Thought I lost you for a sec. Next is Downward Facing Dog, so straighten your knees and send your butt up to the sky.” He watches as she does it, legs looking long and lean and strong, and he tries to replicate it as best as he can. “You’re doing really good for a beginner. This pose in particular usually sucks for a while.” She comes out of her pose, stands in front of him and presses her hands to his back. “Flat back, if you can, or bend your knees a little; I’m not trying to get sexy, I swear.” He laughs indulgently, and she steps back onto her mat with a grin.

They shift into some standing poses after a moment, Sophie checking in on him with a soft expression, and he is feeling it in his muscles by the time they drop into Plank.

“Almost done. Is it harder than you thought?” she asks, looking absolutely effortless as she supports herself on her hands, and he has to huff a laugh.

“It is, actually,” he admits, his arms quaking a bit. “People who do yoga have my utmost respect.” She lifts one arm, wraps it around her back, and she’s got to be just showing off now. She’s barely sweating.

“Yeah it takes more strength than people usually think. It’s not just all about being bendy and zen. Lower down slowly, no belly flop. Then turn onto your back, arms and legs out—this is the best part.” She closes her eyes, sighs deeply, and he can see how this would be her favorite. His entire body is sore, and before today he would have considered himself in good shape.

They rest and breathe, and when she finally sits up for a swig of water, he does the same. “You thought I wore you out yesterday? I won’t have trouble sleeping for a week,” he teases, and she bites her lip, smiles.

“Good. Maybe I can talk you into this more often. It’s fun.” He nods, panting a little from guzzling his water.

“Fun for you to make an old man suffer, that is.” She swats at his arm, and she stands, offering him a hand and helping him to his feet; they roll up the mats, take them back to her car, and head down the block to her café of choice.

It’s definitely a little more upscale than his diner, but still comfortable—they aren’t out of place in their activewear, and the woman seating them greets Sophie by name.

“So they can absolutely make you a western omelette,” Sophie says when they open their menus, “but if you trust me, I can make a suggestion.”

“I’ll take your suggestion. Let’s see how well you know me,” he offers as a challenge, and she smiles, something adorable that scrunches her nose.

“Oh, it’s a deal. You’ll love your breakfast so much you’ll weep, Aaron, I promise you.” She scans the menu again, and by the time the server comes around to take their orders, she confidently names dishes he didn’t even bother to look at. He wants to be surprised.

She gets a breakfast quesadilla for herself, which he steals a bite of, and the dish she ordered for him is a mess of potatoes and ham and eggs and cheese and veggies that he polishes off so quickly it’s almost embarrassing.

Then there are carrot cake pancakes to share, so sweet they’re almost dessert, and when she offers him the last piece she presents it on her fork, looks him over seriously when he leans in and takes the bite. It’s been all fun and easy laughter all morning, but he’s suddenly warm in a way that has nothing to do with the exercise and everything to do with the company, and he thinks she feels it too.

She pays, tips very well, and they hold hands when they walk back to the park; she leans in, presses her nose to his shoulder, and sighs when they’re about halfway there.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs, and he looks down into her warm brown eyes and nods his agreement.

“So could I. Maybe we could make it a thing,” he offers, and her returning smile is brilliant.

“Yeah, I would like that.” They get to her car, and he crowds her up against it, kisses her deeply; she licks her bottom lip when they pull apart, and it’s gorgeous, feels a little indulgent for the park.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our dates this weekend, I would like to take you somewhere in the evening, this week, if we can.” He knows it’s old fashioned, but he wants her to know he’s serious about them, and he feels like drinks or dinner set the tone he’s looking for. She nods her head.

“Sure, okay. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.” They kiss again, a little sweeter, this time, since there are families present, and when he steps away from her, she looks a little dazed. “Just remember, you promised me handsy, and if you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to deliver.” He smirks a bit.

“Message received.” His next kiss is just a light, barely there brush of lips, and she smiles when it breaks. “Call me later, if you want. I’ll just be doing work.”

“Okay. Thanks for doing yoga with me,” she murmurs, and he touches her chin.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she repeats, and she turns around to open her car door, forgets that it’s locked. She bows her head like she’s embarrassed, but he can only laugh. She is so god damn adorable. They see each other again on Tuesday night.

AH: Done kind of early today. Was thinking about going to get a drink.

SC: A drink sounds nice. Do you want company?

AH: When it’s you? Always.

AH: Can we go to your friend's bar?

SC: Of course. There’s open mic tonight, if that’s what you’re getting at.

AH: That’s what I’m getting at.

SC: 717 Carson St, 7:30? - it looks shady, but it’s not, I promise.

AH: A glowing review.

SC: 😋

“You look so good,” is the first thing out of her mouth when he approaches her table, and it makes him laugh, duck his head. She is always so quick to dish out compliments, and while he’s not used to thinking of himself as attractive, hasn’t had a reason to in a while, it does make him feel good.

“Uh, thank you,” he says, trying not to be awkward about it. “You look beautiful, as always.” She does, too, so gorgeous in a tight white sweater and tighter back jeans—she’s too gorgeous for him by far, but he’s certainly not complaining.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and she stretches up on her toes to kiss him softly on the mouth; he thinks the chances of anyone they know coming to this shady looking bar called Lloyd’s, unprompted, are pretty slim to none, so he encourages her kisses. “Mmm. Do you want to come up to the bar with me? My friend Ben is working, I wanted to introduce you to him.”

“Sure, of course.” She takes his hand, and they each order a beer, and he is introduced to Ben, the bartender, Monty, the guitar player, and Racquel, the manager, all of whom are very kind and appear pleased to meet him; apparently, Sophie has mentioned him once or twice. It’s so endearing.

They sit down, talk a little, order another round of beers, and when it’s Sophie’s turn to sing, she sighs lightly, shoots him a shy smile.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” she says, pressing her lips to his, and she heads up to the stage.

“Give it up for Lloyd’s favorite rock balladeer, Sophie Cortes!” That seems, to Aaron, much more official than just blowing off some steam, and he’s prepared to find out that she severely underestimated her talent; what he’s not prepared for, however, is how incredibly beautiful she looks and sounds when she sings a slow, romantic Bon Jovi song, earning applause from a group of regulars who are clearly familiar with her singing.

She waves at them, blushing a little, and when she comes back to him, he pulls her close for a tender kiss.

“You are amazing. What are you doing at the FBI? You should be selling out stadiums, or something.” She laughs.

“I don’t know about that, Aaron, but thank you. It’s something I love to do, but it’s not a career.” They sit, but he scoots his chair closer to her than before. “You know how it is when you’re a kid; people tell you you can be anything you want to be when you grow up, and then you grow up, and things change. But I’ll always have Lloyd’s, so… it works.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her again; her fingers brush over the back of this head, and she hums against his lips.

“Can’t believe I’m dating someone who’s practically famous,” he teases when they separate, and she rolls her eyes, blushes.

“Enough, or I’ll make Monty give you his guitar so we can see what you can do.”

“Okay, point taken,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender, and they laugh and talk for a while, until they both remember it’s a work night and they need to head out.

“Where did you park? I’ll walk you to your car,” he says, hand on her back, and she gestures down the street.

“I’m only two blocks away, I walked.” She must see surprise and discomfort in his eyes, because she takes his other hand. “If anyone tries to mess with me, you know they’ll regret it. I'll be fine.”

“I know, but still. I’d feel better if you let me drive you.”

“Well, I’ll never turn you down,” she says sweetly, pulling him down for a kiss, and he gets her into the car, closes the door for her. In a couple of minutes, they are parked in front of her large brown stone building, and they both unbuckle their seat belts, turn to face each other.

“I like Lloyd’s,” he tells her while they sit companionably; it’s clear neither is ready for the night to end. “Everyone is so nice; it definitely feels like a place you’d go.

“Thank you, I think,” she says with a playful smile. He smiles too, feeling great after such a good date, and he leans over for a kiss. Sophie lengthens it, brushing fingers through his hair, and her eyes have that dreamy quality again when they break apart. “Mmm. Can I come over there?” She sets a hand gently on his thigh, and he nods, pushes back his seat to give her more room.

She settles comfortably in his lap, hands on his shoulders, and he brings her to him for a long, steamy kiss. They make out for several minutes, get handsy, as she mentioned before, before she pulls back with a soft sigh. “Can I tell you something?” she asks, pressing her forehead against his.

“Anything. Always.”

“I’ve thought about this—making out in your car—quite a few times. The first time was the night we went out for my birthday.”

“I really enjoyed myself that night.”

“Me too. I was so happy you came out, and stayed out. And when I told you I loved you, there was so much left unsaid… I hoped you knew.” He smooths his hand over her cheek, his thumb over her bottom lip, and she shivers. “Then you took me home, and you helped me with my shoes, and when you kissed me on my head, I thought: maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way I do. And then we never mentioned it, and nothing ever happened, so I thought maybe I was imagining everything.”

“You weren’t imagining anything. I felt it too.”

“Good,” she murmurs, taking his face in her hands, and they kiss hot, slow. “I think you’re so incredible.”

“I think you’re incredible, too.” He smooths his hands up her back, pressing her closer, and she rolls her hips slowly against him, earning a groan. “Sophie,” he sighs, clutching her. She feels so good, smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating.

“I know,” she breathes, and she looks up at him, eyes serious, chest heaving. “Do you want to come up with me?” He is about to answer with an emphatic yes when someone knocks hard on the window; Sophie starts, bumps her head, and he rubs it with his hand, rolls down the window.

It’s a police officer, because of course it is, and they both wince. He is young, a little cocky, Aaron can tell just by looking at him. Great.

“Good evening. I’d ask what you folks are doing out here, but I think it’s a bit obvious,” he drawls, looking slowly over Sophie’s body where she sits in his lap. “Hiding from your wife, or…?”

“No, sir, we are not,” she answers, clearly a little perturbed but keeping her cool. “We were just about to go inside.”

“That’s good; we like to discourage lewd behavior on our streets, which I’m sure you can understand.” Aaron bristles at that himself.

“Lewd behavior? With all due respect, we were only kissing, and we were about to go inside, like she said. Are you going to attempt to cite us for this?” The officer looks them over thoughtfully, takes out his flashlight.

“Let’s start with some identification.” Sophie sighs, makes to climb off his lap, but he stops her with a hand on her hip.

The situation is uncomfortable enough, but if she vacates his lap… it will only become more awkward for everyone. She presses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh, slides her driver’s license out of her pocket and hands it to the officer.

“Can she get in the glove box for mine?” he asks, trying to remain respectful even though he instantly hates this man. He nods, and Sophie reaches over, opens the glove box, and pulls out his FBI credentials. She flips it open in front of his flashlight, and he blanches, steps back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t—I wasn’t.” He looks up, nervous. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening, sir.”

“You were just doing your job,” Aaron says gently, despite the fact that this is just, so embarrassing. “Are we going to be cited?” To his credit, the kid looks like he’s going to wet his pants. It’s a little funny.

“No, sir, of course not. I—thank you for your cooperation. You two enjoy the rest of your night.” He all but runs back to his squad car, and when he drives away, Aaron and Sophie both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she says through fits of giggles, and she leans against him for a hug. “This has to be the worst date you’ve ever been on, right?” He exhales, shakes his head in amusement.

“No. I’d take what just happened a thousand times over if I could relive the rest of tonight.” Her face softens, and she presses her lips softly against his, squeezes his shoulder.

“You are some type of man,” she says when she pulls back, and she looks him over like she wants to devour him. His lap situation had subsided, but apparently not for long. “I think we should probably just call it a night, don’t you?” she asks gently. “I’m thinking we should take that unmistakable sign for what it is.” He nods, because even though the prospect of going upstairs is a very sweet one, the decision may have been a little premature.

“I agree; but just know, more than anything, that I don’t want this evening to end.”

“I know, me neither. But we do have work in the morning; you can call me tomorrow night, though, if you want. I would really like that.”

“It’s a date,” he teases, and they kiss softly a couple of times before she slides back into the passenger’s seat, heads out the door.

He exhales deeply when she’s out of his sight.

#aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[maxmagi]

A List of My OTPs

because it's 11 and I can't sleep.

Enjolras x Grantaire a.k.a. Enjoltaire a.k.a. ExR- Les Mis

How I fell into this I don't remember now. I vaguely remember reading a crackfic of this and then everything just went sideways.

This was also the fandom that helped me realize that I wasn't exactly straight and that it's okay to not be loud about my sexuality, that I can just be.

I think that explains my attachment to this ship, not to mention just the movie's Grantaire (played by George Blagden) also shipped the characters and played his character like how he thought it should be, Grantaire loving and pining after Enjolras without the revolutionary knowing it.

Except in the fan fics, Enjolras returns his feelings and they work it out, even though it's not easy because they're both stubborn as mules. Ah, ultimate fantasy I guess. And the number of great fics here, *whistle*

Also, the Les Amis? Is amazing? Especially in the modern AUs? Like they're great friends? I love this fandom so much! Permets-tu!

Shen Wei x Zhao Yunlan - Guardian / Zhen Hun

C'mon, Zhu Yilong & Bai Yu's performance and emotions? Plus just the fact the fanfic writers of this ship are absolutely amazing? Please, escape from this pairing is impossible!

Best opposites attract trope for me. An academic by day, superhero by night in love with a roguish police chief who has no powers but whose charisma, wit, and heart can get him to toe to toe with the legends.

Also, Professor Shen Wei constantly acting like an innocent civilian and lying badly? Gold!

Loki x Tony Stark a.k.a. FrostIron - Avengers

How did I honestly get to this ship? I really can't remember what started it all. I think it must have been a Loki redemption fic where Tony Stark and Pepper broke up and something something happened. Let me tell you, the writers of this ship have written sagas and ballads of epic and sometimes confusing proportions, and that is why I fell deeper into the pit. I mean, they gotta give justice to two brilliant but chaotic characters, right? Angst. This ship has sooooooooo much angst.

Eiji x Ash - Banana Fish

My god, if you want to keep your heart intact and not be reminded of all that's ugly in the world, DON'T WATCH OR READ BANANA FISH. YOUR HEART WILL NEVER HEAL!

If you're gonna watch/read it anyway, make sure to watch something fluffy and sweet after. There's a reason that people from this fandom go, "If you've seen Banana Fish's ending, then you can handle whatever angsty show you're watching now." ~ or something to that effect. Another thing we like to say in this fandom is, "Other fandoms: Let's write a Mafia AU! Banana Fish fandom: We are the Mafia AU." Yes, all of us in this fandom is dramatic af.

Yuuri x Viktor - Yuuri!!! on Ice

Uh, does this really need an explanation? Aside from the fact that you will surprisingly find a lot of Mafia AUs here because we all know that hiding behind that beautiful face of Viktor Nikiforov is a devil capable of... tearing down your self-confidence, like WTF Viktor, don't make Yuuri cry! Also, their dance together at the end, such beautiful love.

Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood aka Malec - Shadowhunters

I never read the books and have no plans to in the near future. I just saw a video on Youtube about why Malec is life and now here I am, still reading some Malec fics from time to time.

Some stuff on the show were WTF but overall they were a really good couple who supported each other. Plus, they're a Power Couple.

Erwin x Levi aka Eruri - Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin

Not to be confused with Ereri, which is Eren x Levi, which I don't generally ship except for that one time when a writer wrote an epic fanfic series with Eren in his mid 20s and Levi in his late 20s/early 30s, reincarnation AU. Boy was that one a surprise. I did not expect that.

Anyway, I'm an Eruri fan through and through. Especially with that promise that Levi made to Erwin. And the reason he gave the serum to Armin. HE DIDN'T DO IT FOR THE KIDS YKNOW. HE DID IT FOR ERWIN. Plus, Levi, Erwin, and Hange are my special trio. Erwin's batch was really amazing.

Also, I really like the fact that the shorter and slighter person is the more badass fighter while the taller, bigger one is the more calculating and strategic one. Rocks the boat of stereotypes and all that. Bonus: how these two met. My god, what a meet-cute! 😂

Dani x Jamie aka The Au Pair and the Gardener - The Haunting of Bly Manor

It really is more of a love story than a ghost story. I dunno how to feel about this. I loved these two characters so much and I wished they had a better ending but I wasn't SO surprised because it was a horror series (Like, I was still hoping at the end that they'd be together forever but yknow...). In any case, Jamie was just awesome. And her nickname for Dani? Poppins?! God, what a lover and fighter. She was not afraid to cock a gun in a ghost's face.

... and now for my flexible BROTPs

Merlin x Arthur aka Merthur - BBC Merlin

Yeah, my brain is so chaotic multiple OTPs and BROTPs of the same pairing exist at the same time without clashing with one another or having major identity crises.

I actually really like BROTP Merlin and Arthur and also like reading OTP Merthur.

And when Merlin is paired with Morgana or Freya or sometimes even Gwaine, that's fine with me too. As long as his bromance with Arthur stays intact, because that's what drew me to the show in the first place. Personal preference. I see them as platonic soulmates.

*Shout-out to the Merthur writers though, you kept me sane during my "Post-Merlin Depression," which is actually a term thrown around in the fandom because of that horrid final season (not saying it's a good term but it's what it was called). A lot of amazing fics here, too, both Magic Reveal and Modern AU ones. Full of action and adventure too! I mean, there are boy-band-looking Knights and magic-wielding badasses!

Tim Drake x Conner Kent/Kon-El aka Red Robin x Super Boy - DC Comics

More like flexible otp. I dig Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake BUT I really really also dig Tim Drake and Conner Kent. When they're TimKon, it's like an entirely different entity from TimSteph. Ugh, hard to explain.

I mean, Kon telling Tim, "You'll always be my Robin" and Tim telling Kon, "And you'll always be my clone boy" is the shit. Also when Kon could pick out/recognize Tim's heartbeat. And when Tim nearly went mad scientist trying to bring his bestie back. Like, dudes, wtf. And at the same time, hell yeah.

Liu Kang x Kung Lao aka LiuLao - Mortal Kombat

- I see these two as more like ride or die best friends connected by fate/platonic soulmates. But also like their dynamic is so awesome, cute, sweet, badass, can't-live-without-you vibes.

Basically the same way I feel about Merthur. I like reading both romantic and platonic relationships between these two characters. Like, the LiuLao fan creators peeling off the layers of this relationship and exposing every raw nerve is beautiful.

They love diving into the characters' psyche, emotions, motivations, fears, and doubts and you get really amazed because... Aren't they just characters from a video game, you ask? Well yeah, but MK video game has several interesting storylines and the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie was just the perfect jumpstarter to this beautiful blaze.

I mean, "We swore that if we were to die, it would be together"? Hell no, you're not dropping that on us and not expecting us to create our very own spin-offs and 12-page essays on that shit. That's what we fans do, baby. And also, really, we need a shaolin monks/white lotus spin-off/prequel. We're starving here.

As this ship is the newest one on my list, it's the one I'm looking forward to the most. Not enough fan content, I tell you. Not enough. One of these days, I just might add my own.

But right now, it's past 1 and so I shall attempt to sleep.

***No images for TimKon and LiuLao coz apparently I've gone past my 10-images allowance 😤

#enjoltaire #malec #au pair x gardener #liulao #merthur #timkon #eruri #ironfrost #frostiron #viktor x yuuri #eiji x ash #banana fish #merlin #red robin #enjolras #grantaire #erwin x levi #zhen hun #shen wei #zhao yunlan #dani x jamie #loki x tony stark #les mis

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Chapter Three

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Synopsis: Based on the response to this post. :) Jude’s not sure what she expected motherhood to be like, but it isn’t this.  

(SO MUCH FLUFF HERE. Really. Just. The fluffiest. I can’t help myself.)

Chapter Three: The Third

I think maybe I am meant to be a cautionary tale, not a happy ending.

I think that someone who has manipulated and lied and schemed as much as I have is destined only for tragedy.

And now it’s finally come for me.

I think this over and over again, like a spell I’m chanting to grant myself some measure of grim acceptance, while Cardan and I ride a ragwort horse all the way to the mortal realm. It’s the best course of action we can come up with in the moment of panic.

The moment I knew we were facing a potentially devastating complication, I wanted – no, needed – a human doctor.

Pregnancy is rare among the Folk, and I now find I’m not interested in trusting faerie midwives with a decidedly human condition. If there is something wrong with me, or with our baby, I want to know what it is, everything about it. I don’t trust anyone who might want to strike a deal for my child’s wellbeing or concoct some potion that, while saving the pregnancy, also gives our baby a third eye or snaggle-teeth or an appetite for blood. I’m also having flashbacks of a conversation long ago with Oriana, when she divulged details of Oak’s horrific birth. How there’d been complications that had cost Liriope her life. How Oriana herself had carved the baby out of her friend’s stomach.

I shudder hard at the recollection and press my cheek hard against Cardan’s back as we ride, my face between his shoulder blades. Hard pass. On every bit of that. Just – one massive hard pass. We are finding a real doctor.

Cardan didn’t even argue. Though he insisted it was time to tell The Court of Shadows, if only for safety reasons while we made an unannounced, unplanned emergency run to the mortal realm.

Nothing goes like either of us had hoped. There are no tears of joy. There are only tight, grim expressions and tense words while plans are made. How we will prevent our enemies from learning of the child and our absence. How we will remain protected while among mortals.

I have hardly a word of help to offer, and that alone is horrifying. I have always schemed and survived – it’s what I am. But there, instead, I can only sit with a hand at my flat stomach, my sole focus on willing this little rebel in me to hear her mother’s first command.

Don’t go. Please. I love you.

Please stay.

Please.

I’ve resented this for weeks, and now I’m begging for the nausea, the aches, the exhaustion to stay – all of it. Any reassurance that I’m not losing this newfound love before I’ve even really gotten to know it.

But I also wonder if I should just accept fate. I have always felt from the beginning that I did not deserve this. That I am stealing a happiness that I have not earned.

“How are you faring?” Cardan asks me over his shoulder, the whine of the wind in my ears. We’re somewhere over the sea, jostled by the roll of the ragwort horse’s gallop beneath us.

“The same,” I answer. Sick. Dizzy. Terrified of what comes next. Unconsciously, I grip his body to mine harder. He’s tense, every muscle on edge. This is unlike any journey we’ve made yet. There’s nothing to fight, and still everything to lose.

“Nearly there,” says Cardan, but it sounds like he’s saying it more for his own benefit. He hates the journey over the sea, the precariousness of ragwort horse travel. I’m not in any state to offer reassurances, or even tease him to lighten the mood.

Sure enough, the clouds part, and the city lights along the coast of Maine wink up at us. It’s evening, and dark beneath a heavy rain cloud, and as soon as we’re low enough, we’re being pelted with sheets of rain. By the time the ragwort horse alights its oaken-hooves on the pavement, Cardan and I are both soaked to the skin.

We dismount, invisible beneath a glamour, at the far end of a hospital parking lot. The sign at the entrance glows with a red cross and the name, Down East Community Hospital. It was the best I could think of to do at a moment’s notice: instruct the ragwort horse to find us an emergency room.

I wrap my arms around myself as Cardan holds out a hand to gather up the horse. The leaves of its mane and the bark-like coat of its body begin to curl in on itself, like a plant rolling in on itself for the night. A moment later, it’s only a few leafy twigs that Cardan can hide in his pocket.

We both look absurd, and I’m just now realizing it. We look like we’ve just run out of a community theatre dress rehearsal for a low-budget melodrama. Cardan’s tried to dress down, but he’s still Cardan, and he’s wearing tight black trousers and tall boots over his calves. He’s thrown one of the zip-up hoodies I keep in my wardrobe for trips to the mortal realm over a loose white shirt. He also must have been feeling particularly festive this morning after last night’s romp, and he’d gone and added a bit of kohl to his eyes before I’d woken up and shit hit the fan. And he’s still wearing gold rings all over his fingers and in his pointed ears. Combined with his soaked, inky hair, he looks a bit like a member of an 80’s rock cover band who’s recovering from being pushed into a pool.

It’s kind of nice. He rarely looks a mess. It makes me feel like we’re in this together, at least.

For my part, I didn’t let Tatterfell braid my auburn hair today, and now it’s just long and windblown, so I’ve tried to pull it all to one side to keep it managed. I’m wearing a simple pair of brown trousers with little silken flats that were my least flashy pair of shoes. I’ve got a shirt and olive-colored vest on beneath a hoodie similar to Cardan’s that was supposed to keep me warm, but now it’s sopping wet.

We both pulls the hoods on our sweatshirts up over our heads as we make a mad dash for the automatic sliding doors of the ER, racing against the onslaught of rain. Once we’re inside the vestibule between sliding doors, I stop a moment to grab Cardan’s arm and gather myself. He puts a bejeweled hand over mine, his expression tightened in concern.

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess, breathless. Hospitals, emergency rooms, doctors. It’s all foreign to me.

“I’ve done it even less.” Cardan’s looking more pale by the minute. The rising terror in both of us is palpable.

“I should call Vivi,” I spout, and Cardan’s nodding furiously in agreement, for once graciously not pointing out how he’s been saying this very thing for weeks.

But when I look around, there’s not a phone in sight. There’s only a poorly lit waiting room on the other side of the glass vestibule, and bored-looking nurses waiting at intake windows. Shit. Shit. How do mortals do this? How to they get treatments for mortal ailments and weaknesses and not fall to pieces fretting over their inherent, inevitable vulnerability in the process?

Suddenly, the surety of immortality is looking rather cowardly by comparison.

“Maybe one of the nurses will let me commandeer a phone,” I mutter, and I let my fingers slide from Cardan’s arm to his hand. My palm is starting to sweat when he laces our fingers together, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

The glass door to the waiting room slides with a hissing whisper, and inside there are people crowded in the cheap chairs lining the walls. Somewhere, a toddler is wailing out of sheer boredom while the evening news anchors jabber on a TV mounted in the far corner above a potted plant. Cardan’s already drawing stares with his ominous, messy appearance. He found a beanie in the pocket of the sweatshirt to cover the pointed tips of his ears, but there’s still kohl streaking his prominent cheekbones. I’m gonna need to clean him up at some point.

Right now, all I’m focused on is slipping into the first open intake seat and figuring out how in the hell I’m going to see a doctor for the first time in my mortal life. I am going to be brave. I have trained for nothing less.

“Hi, how can we help you today?” says a warm-looking middle-aged nurse behind the desk. She has short grey hair and floral scrubs, and a pair of readers perched on the bridge of her nose. Her badge says her name is Josie.

“Um.” My mouth feels dry, but I push on anyway. “I am—I am pregnant, and, um, I’m having some…” I draw in a shaking breath. Why is this so hard? “Some bleeding. I think I need to see a doctor right away.”

“Of course, honey,” Josie says, and peers over her readers. “Have you spoken with your OB?”

“I don’t have one,” I shake my head, my face starting to flush as Josie’s concern increases. I’ve never felt like I belonged in the mortal realm, and it’s never felt more apparent that I’m an outsider.

“Okaaay,” Josie says, slowly, adjusting her readers as she turns to her computer. “Let’s get you registered. Name?”

I hesitate again. I’ve never given my name in any sort of official capacity here among mortals. Especially not since I’d gotten married. What do I want to be called?

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar,” I hear myself answer. From the chair beside me, Cardan titters a little amused laugh to himself and then bites it back when I shoot him a look. He likes the sound of it, too.

“Okaaay,” Josie says again, pecking at her keyboard. “I’m gonna need you to spell that for me, honey.”

I appall Josie further as the registration process yields the fact that I have neither a driver’s license nor an insurance card. With each of Josie’s judgmental sighs, I can sense Cardan stiffening with repressed irritation next to me, and it’s only stressing me out more. I should have had a talk with him first about promising not to curse anyone. I’m half-expecting Josie to sprout cat ears at any minute.

“While we can’t legally decline services based on insurance,” Josie says, doing little to suppress her concern, “I will need you to sign this agreement that says you understand that, since you are not presenting insurance today, you will be personally responsible for the entire cost of today’s visit.” And she shifts a clipboard toward me.

“Oh, look, love,” Cardan suddenly chimes in. He slides a wet leaf from his pocket across the registration desk as his voice takes on the heady, dangerous quality of magic. He’s conjuring a glamour. “I think you can see all of the insurance information you require here.”

“Oh, good, you found your card!” Josie exclaims, delighted, as she takes the leaf and begins happily clacking away at her keyboard.

“Do not get carried away,” I hiss at Cardan while Josie’s distracted. “That should be a one time thing.”

But Cardan just slits his kohl-lined eyes at me, looking like the smug bastard he’s always been, and leans an elbow on the registration desk, throwing Josie a coy smile. The glamour in his voice when he speaks again is just as sinfully seductive.

“And Josie, my sweet,” he says, “you’ll let my wife borrow your phone to speak with her sister, won’t you, dearest?”

“Of course, Mr. Greenbriar,” Josie replies, with the charmed-sweet smile of the glamoured. She shifts her desk phone to me, handing me the handset. “Just press nine for outgoing calls, honey,” she tells me.

I’m frowning at Cardan’s wicked smirk as I accept the phone.

“I don’t think that was entirely necessary,” I whisper to him while Josie types away. He grins at me. I don’t really want to admit that he’s just been pretty useful, and he knows it.

Regardless of how ill-gotten this privilege is, I do need Vivi. I dial her cell phone, one of two numbers I know, and wait while it rings.

And rings.

And rings.

“She might be screening her calls,” I say to Josie, sheepishly. “Her father is…” Oh, how to describe what Madoc is like these days. “…over-bearing and tricky.” And I hang up and try again. Josie gives a tight, uncomfortable smile, peering over her readers.

“You are not concerned about how unusual this is,” Cardan tells her, the glamour dripping off his voice, and I smack his arm to get him to stop. Josie settles again as the phone keeps ringing.

I have to hang up and dial two more times before Vivi finally picks up. She sounds irritated when she answers.

“Vivi, this is Jude,” I say, slumping in relief that she’s finally answered.

“Jude? Seriously? What?” The annoyance in her voice vanishes as she’s scrambling to understand. “You’re calling me? Where are you? Are you ok?”

“I’m at the Down East Community Hospital emergency room,” I say. “Can you come?”

“Oh, my God.” It sounds like Vivi’s suddenly frantically looking for her keys. “Yes, I’m coming. I’ll be there. Why are you there? What’s going on?”

“It’s a lot to explain over the phone,” I say, slowly, white-knuckling the handset. “I’m ok, and Cardan’s here, but I just really need you.” I hate it more than anything, but I can’t keep the frightened younger sister out of my voice now that I’m actually talking to Vivi about this. The first rush of relief hits me when Vivi replies without hesitation:

“Ok. It’s gonna be ok. I’m on my way.”

I let out a long breath as I hand the phone back to Josie.

“The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you,” says Josie, and gestures to the crowded waiting room. “Have a seat.”

“Or--” Cardan starts, leaning forward, and I know he’s about to throw out another glamour to speed things along. In the blink of an eye, I clap a hand over his mouth before he can say another word.

“Thank you,” I tell Josie, through a gritted smile, and urge Cardan to move along.

“Your moral stance on glamours ought to have a loophole where our child is concerned,” Cardan gripes as we shuffle to the nearest available two chairs.

“You Folk are like addicts with glamours,” I snap back as we take a seat. “You don’t know when to stop.”

“I believe I’ve proven myself capable of great restraint,” Cardan says, looking miffed for a moment until a People magazine on a nearby table catches his eye and his curiosity of mortals gets the better of him.

He has the right idea, I think. Distraction would be the key to getting my mind off the blood and not falling apart right now. I’ve done everything I can at this point, and now we must wait.

I busy myself for a moment by wrapping the cuff of my sleeve over my fingers and wiping off the rain-splattered streaks of kohl off Cardan’s face, so that the father of my child looks less like the troubled D-list celebrities his People magazine is trashing. He’s not drawing any less attention, but there’s not much either of us can do about that. If you’re not accustomed to the allure of the Folk, it’s nigh impossible to not stare and stare and try to decipher what it is about them that’s so otherworldly. But at least now they’re staring for the right reasons and not at his ruined eyeliner.

With nothing more at arm’s length to distract me, I rest my head against the wallpaper behind me and let my vision go unfocused in the general direction of the TV in the corner. I don’t want to think about the whining toddler in the room, who’s mad at his mother for not bringing the right stuffed animal with them to the hospital. What would I do with a half-human child in Faerie who fell ill or wounded? What would we do? Would the land let Cardan heal him? Would we have to make this journey again? What if I forgot the right stuffed animal, too??

Amazing that I’m suddenly assuming this child is going to survive whatever’s happening now, I realize, and this worry spiral is helping no one.

Once upon a time, I’d been the girl determined to become a thing feared. What has happened inside me, that I’m now this terrified woman? I hate it. I hate it, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“You’re not afraid of that everything will change?” I remember asking Cardan, three moons ago. I had thrown out the last of my birth control that day. We’d snuck away from a revel to lie beneath the massive tree that grew out of the top of the palace of Elfhame, staring at the stars above and dreaming of what they could hold.

Cardan looked to me, his hands behind his head in the loam, his crown slightly askew. He smiled, and the moonlight made him almost too beautiful to bear.

“I cherish every change you’ve ever brought me, Jude,” he said, and he stretched out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers softly lingering at its rounded edges. “I don’t see why this should be any different.”

“You’ve not always felt so gracious about the changes I’ve foisted upon you,” I pointed out. “And you don’t get to exile me now if my parenting pisses you off.”

I’m not sure what I thought he’d think of such a statement, but it was out in the night air anyway. His gold-rimmed eyes darkened as he pulled his hand back, folding it over his chest. I watched him as he stared up at the stars again, waiting for his response, and with each second, regret began to sink in.

“I consider myself fairly thick-skinned,” he said at last, “but that was uncalled for.”

“I was teasing--” I started, but he shot me a dark look.

“There was a measure of truth in your voice,” he countered. “You don’t lie as well as you think you do.”

“I don’t see what you’re so put out about,” I huffed, pulling back to glare at the night sky. “You weren’t the one living in exile.”

“Not this again,” Cardan groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Five years, Jude. It’s been five years,” he sighed into his palms.

“And now we’re discussing children, and it’s a very large and potentially aggravating change,” I said. “Maybe I am a little wary.”

“Of me?” The moment I saw the unguarded devastation on Cardan’s face, it was like I’d slapped him, and not in the fun way. I wanted to be swallowed down by the loam, covered in a grassy grave. Everything about this was awful. I wanted children with this man. Why was I dredging up ancient history?

But Cardan had been right. There’d been a measure of truth to it. It’s been a deliriously wonderful five years, but we are not entirely new people. We have a terrible past. And I feared what demons a significant change like this could summon.

When I didn’t answer right away, Cardan sat up so his back was to me, burying his head in his hands.

“Cardan…” I shifted so that I was propped up on my hands.

“What else can I give you to make this right?” he fretted to the ground in front of him. “I have given you everything. Every part of me, everything you see before you. It was wrong for both of us to take our games as far as we did, but I would have thought by now--”

“It was an off-handed comment made in poor taste.” I wanted to put a stop to everything that was happening. Rewind the whole evening.

Instead, he looked over his shoulder at me, visibly aching.

“I will not be like my father. I refuse it,” he retorted, and when I cocked my head to the side, not understanding, he went on. “Eldred collected consorts and sired children the way some people curate shoes: to suit his vanity. And I have that in spades already; there’s no need to spawn more. What I would want for a child, more than anything, is to not know what it is to grow up as an accessory. To not fear that his mother will be discarded. Jude, if you cannot trust so little of me, then this is poorly timed. Perhaps we need another five years. Or ten. Or however long you require.”

I sat up and scooted next to him, tucking my chin against his shoulder.

“I trust you,” I assured him in a whisper, and, as if he couldn’t help it, his eyes closed as he leaned his head towards mine. He smelled like oakwood and leather, like everything I’ve ever wanted. “I would not still be with you if I did not trust you.”

I wanted to push back the thick curls from his forehead, and so I did. And held my palm against his jaw as I leaned my forehead to his while the stars twinkled overhead.

Five years later, and sometimes we’re still finding little bits of armor that need to come off. For me, becoming a fearsome thing is not an option for handling motherhood, just as Cardan refuses to mirror his father’s vanity. But when I take off this bit of armor, this need to be feared and respected, it feels as if there is nothing underneath yet. Only vulnerability. Only terror.

I think of it now, in the ER waiting room of the Down East Community Hospital, while I snake my arm through his, looking at him while he’s ogling People magazine. He looks a mess, and there is no one I trust more. I’m still not convinced we’re shining examples of excellent would-be parents. But I’m afraid and vulnerable in the worst ways, and there’s no one I’d rather see me through it.

“Eldred would never have done something like this for any of his consorts,” I point out to him in a whisper, and he looks back at me with a pleased smirk.

“You are my wife,” he indicates, and gives my cold knuckles a swift kiss before turning back to whatever filth is engrossing him in People.

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar?” There’s a nurse at the emergency room door calling my name. I draw in a breath. Here we go.

The nurse in blue scrubs takes my vitals and makes us somewhat comfortable in a makeshift space where we’re surrounded by taupe-colored curtains on three sides while I wait on a hospital bed. There’s a squeaky grey plastic chair for Cardan to sit on, and no more TV or People magazine – just the assurance that a doctor will see me soon. And then we’re left with our dread to stare at the taupe curtains around us, listening to the squeak of hurried shoe soles against linoleum and the occasional beeping of hospital pagers. The air is acrid, like someone’s tried to scrub it clean, and it’s making my stomach lurch. It must show on my face as I swallow hard against the rising bile, because Cardan swiftly hands me a blue plastic barf bag that the nurse has left him in charge of. He’s wary of my empty threats to aim for his shoes.

“Jude, are you decent?” calls a voice from the other side of the curtain. “You have visitors.”

The curtains scrape against their tracks on the ceiling, and I can’t hold back a relief grin at the sight of Vivi and Heather.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” It’s all Vivi can say as she sweeps in to wrap me in a hug.

“Hey,” Heather graciously greets Cardan while the two are awkward to the side. She’s looking effortlessly cool, with her shoulder-length pink hair in soft waves. She has holes in her jeans in all the right places, and she’s wearing a breezy, colorful boho top that shows off her brown shoulders. I try to give her a wave while Vivi is squeezing the life out of me.

“What are you doing here?” Vivi demands when she pulls away, holding me by the shoulders. She’s given her golden hair a short, edgey chop that almost hides the pointed tips of her half-fae ears when it falls the right way. She tends to favor t-shirts and jeans, but today she’s in tight black pants and a grey v-neck under a jacket, and I’m hoping I haven’t interrupted a date.

“Well.” I shift a glance between the two of them, simultaneously gladdened that they’re here and nervous with how I now I have break the news. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out…” And then Vivi gasps.

“Are you pregnant?!” she squeaks.

“Oh, my God, V,” Heather rolls her eyes. “You can’t ask people if they’re pregnant.”

“She’s right, though,” I interject. “I am.”

“Jude!” Vivi exclaims, fondly, and takes my face in her hands, and, for a brief moment, I realize this is all I’ve been wanting for weeks. I grin, sheepishly. Then Vivi narrows her cat-like eyes at Cardan.

“You knocked up my sister?” she jabs.

“Bold of you to assume it’s mine,” he quips back, and Vivi feigns a disgusted gasp as throw the empty barf bag at him.

“Force of habit,” Cardan tells Heather with a shrug.

“Congratulations, Cardan,” Heather replies, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“But why are you here?” Vivi turns to me again. “Does Taryn know? Does Madoc?”

“No on both counts,” I shake my head. “It’s early. And we’re here because--” Ugh, I hate this. I hate this. “I started bleeding.”

“Oh, no.” Heather’s face is etched with genuine concern. It’s been a roller coaster of a few minutes.

“But why are you here?” Vivi tries again, and I see what she’s getting at. Why not be seen to by the royal midwives?

“I’m mortal,” I say, quietly. “This is a mortal thing. I felt like I needed a mortal doctor.”

And Vivi takes my face in her hands.

“I completely, one-hundred-percent agree,” she says, whole-heartedly, and there’s relief there, too. She’s always wanted me to spend more time in the mortal realm.

We crowd around the hospital bed for a while to catch up. Heather makes a run to the vending machine to bring back some snacks, and soon the tightness in my chest is releasing and unwinding. This was the distraction I needed. For a few minutes there, I could almost forget what had brought us to this weird, curtained-off corner to begin with.

But then the curtain scrape on the track again. There’s an orderly waiting there in blue scrubs, pushing a wheelchair.

“They’re ready for you in ultrasound now, Jude,” he tells me, and indicates that I’m supposed to ride in the chair. I bristle at the gesture. I’m not sure of the last time I’ve been asked to do something so vulnerable and humiliating. I am not ill. I don’t need this.

Vivi notices and puts a hand at my arm.

“It’s just standard hospital procedure, Jude,” she says, in her tone of voice she uses to convince Oak to eat vegetables.

So I comply. Heather and Vivi tell us they’ll wait for us to get back, and then we’re off. Cardan follows the orderly, and every once and awhile, I hear him having to jog to catch up – he’s easily distracted by what all the mortals are up to in this place.

I’m wheeled into a dark room with an exam table. Next to it is a bunch of strange equipment I’ve never seen before – screens and wands and all sort of buttons. A technician waits for us there, a woman in pink scrubs with a badge that says her name is Brenna. Her dark, curly hair is pulled back tight against her scalp, and she has kind brown eyes that smile when she tells me to make myself comfortable on the exam table.

“And is this Dad?” Brenna wants to know, cheerfully waving Cardan in to have a seat on a grey plastic chair next to me.

“Not my dad,” I say, not understanding the question at first. Then it dawns on me. “I mean, he’s the father, yes. Of the baby.” Oh, my God. This is off to a great start. Cardan’s trying very hard to not laugh outright at me and failing miserably. His laugh comes out like one long snort.

“Happens all the time,” Brenna says, with another cheerful wave, which makes me wonder why she’s still asking it, then.

“First baby?” Brenna now wants to know, making small talk while she’s queuing up her equipment.

“First everything,” I reply, hoping that will explain my nerves. “First baby, first ultrasound, first try.”

“Oh.” Brenna sounds impressed and looks to Cardan as she wheels around in her swivel chair. “Nice shootin’, Tex,” she tells him, with a wink.

“Thank you, Brenna,” Cardan accepts graciously, puffing out his chest a little. I roll my eyes.

“This may be the only time I’m ever complimented on my marksmanship,” he tells me. “Let me have this moment.”

“All right!” Brenna interrupts. “Let’s see what you’re cookin’ in there, mama.”

She rolls up my shirt and tucks in some scratchy paper into my leggings. Then squirts some cold gel across my abdomen. I watch in fascination while she rolls her device over my stomach, and then she turns her screen to us.

“And here’s your little guy,” she says. “Or gal. Can’t tell yet, obviously.”

For a moment, time stops.

Next to me, Cardan draws in a breath.

Something squirmy and alive curls and stretches in the grainy black and white pixels of Brenna’s screen. It doesn’t look quite human. Or fae. It looks kind of alien, if I’m being honest. But I can see its tiny limbs and the outline of its perfectly round head, and it’s moving. Like a manic little seahorse, our little shrimp is bobbing all over the place, alive and well.

“Looking good,” Brenna says, and Cardan barks out a surprised laugh. I’m smiling so hard my face might break.  

“Oh, I was sure I’d stabbed it,” Cardan sighs in relief, slumping in his seat, and it’s my turn to laugh.

“That’s not actually possible,” Brenna tells him, and maybe now he’ll believe it. “Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

She clicks and clacks at some buttons, then turns a knob. Pushes a little harder on my abdomen.

A fluttering, steady whooshing sound fills the speakers in the room. I don’t know when I grabbed Cardan’s hand, but I’m squeezing it hard now. I glance at him. He’s utterly transfixed on the screen, his dark eyes wide, his lips parted. He looks like how I feel when I’m in bearing witness to great and ancient magic.

This isn’t all vomit and exhaustion. This is happening. This is real.

We are making something new. Something entirely unique. Like magic.

“Ok, this might be your issue.” Brenna breaks the enchantment, zooming in on something dark on her screen. My heart, which moments before felt like it might burst, squeezes and contracts in panic now.

“This is a sub-chorionic hematoma,” she says, pointing to the screen and making some notes. “The doctor will explain all this to you.”

“What is it?” Cardan’s voice is tight, panic thinly-veiled. “Is it dangerous?”

“They’re pretty common,” says Brenna, not looking at us while she takes measurements and notes. Like she drops these kinds of bombs regularly. “It’s basically an accumulation of blood between the uterine wall and the fetal membrane. It can cause bleeding, especially as the baby gets bigger and jostles it around. They usually resolve without much issue.”

“Usually?” Cardan’s not assuaged.

“Well, again,” Brenna says, looking at him sidelong, “the doctor will read this and give his advice. But it can increase the risk of miscarriage in some cases. Not always, though. The doctor will tell you how he wants you to treat it, but it usually involves some bed rest or limited activity, nothing too strenuous or crazy. Don’t go horse-back riding!” And she laughs as if only a crazy person would get on a horse while pregnant.

I look to Cardan. He looks to me. It’s hit us at the same time.

The ragwort horse.

How the hell are we getting home?

“Huh.” I barely had time to digest my realization about the ragwort horse before Brenna was back with more. She swivels the device on my stomach around some more. Cocks her head to the side.

“Are either of you a twin?” she asks.

Cardan points at me like I’ve done something wrong he doesn’t want to be blamed for.

“Why?” I ask, slowly, cautiously.

“It does run in families,” Brenna says, and turns the screen to us again. “And I’m seeing two babies here.” She looks back at Cardan. “And on the first try, Tex,” she says, looking impressed again.

Now, nothing feels real. I think I might leave my body. There are two squirmy aliens in the black and white screen, the lazier of the two now floating into view. Brenna adjusts the knobs some more to bring the new heartbeat into focus, just as strong as the first.

“Jude.” I can’t decipher what Cardan’s feeling now. He looks unlike I’ve ever seen him before. Something between elation and sheer dread is warring between his wide eyes and furrowed brow. He grips at the beanie over his hair like he’s trying to keep his own head from flying off.

“Are you and your twin identical?” Brenna asks. I nod, stupidly.

“These, too,” she nods, and points at the screen. “See: they’re sharing a sac.” She draws in a deep breath. “This does elevate the risk more, with the hematoma. The doctor will go over all of this with you. But I’ll bet he’ll want you on some kind of bed rest. Weekly check-ups. That sort of thing.” And then she squints hard at the screen. “What is that?” she wonders aloud. “Is that a tail?”

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, but he’s so flustered and shell-shocked, he’s forgotten to use the glamour.

“I think I might, though.” Brenna squints harder.

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, louder and hurried, this time with the weight of magic heavy in his tone. “Everything you see looks normal to you.”

A glamoured smile flutters over Brenna’s pleasant features as she lifts the device from my belly and clicks off her equipment.

“Everything looks normal,” she hums, happily. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Everything but the hematoma, right?” I cock my head to the side as she rolls away her swivel chair. “The doctor will speak to us about that.”

“What hematoma?” Brenna’s still smiling as she stands with her clipboard. “Everything looks normal. I’m going to call an orderly, but pretty much you’re free to go. Congratulations!”

“Cardan,” I accuse under my breath as she leaves, leveling a glare at him.

“You are carrying twins.” He’s just agape at me, either unaware or unrattled by how the poor wording in his glamour just muddled everything.

“The doctor won’t know about the hematoma now!” I exclaim.

“We’ll scrounge up another one somewhere,” Cardan waves me off. “Jude. Twins.”

It’s not helping me feel any better, him saying it over and over again. I slump into my hands, weighted by disbelief and frustration. What am I going to do? This can’t possibly be real, can it?

“I am going to get so huge,” I moan into my palms in self-pity. I know it’s vain, but at the moment, it’s all I can think. In the land of willowy Folk, I already stick out like a sore thumb. Now I’m going to be a sore and massively swollen thumb.

Cardan’s shifted to stand in front of me on the exam table. And he runs his hands up and down my arms, almost reverent.

“You are magnificent,” he reassures me, softly, and presses a kiss against my head.

“Why are you not freaking out?” I ask, and pull him by the hoodie pockets so I can hug him again if I need it. I think I may need it. “This is two babies. We don’t even know Thing One about taking care of one baby, and now there will be two.”

“We may require a few more house cats,” Cardan jokes, and when I scowl, he asks, “That’s still not amusing? I shall persist. One of these days.”

“You know, I hear that’s a mortal fatherhood trait,” I point out. “Persisting over and over with the same unamusing joke to the embarrassment of everyone around you.” And I wrap my arms around his waist as I look up at him. He’s warm, and everything is a little more bearable when he’s close and smiling.

“I think you are implying that I’m excelling at fatherhood so far,” Cardan grins down at me, and I’m surprised to see it looks as if his gold-rimmed eyes are glistening.

“Are you all right?” I ask, softening at the sight. He blinks, furiously, as he buries his long fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me close as he looks over my face.

“I just--” His voice is hoarse when he starts, so he clears it and tries again. “This is more than I ever dared to consider,” he says. “I did not dream that this kind of life would ever be an option for me. Family that looked after each other, that loved each other – that always seemed to me to be a strictly mortal gift. As if the Folk had bargained for everlasting life long ago and forsook all hope of familial love in the process. I had accepted that it wasn’t mine to have. But you.”

He shifts his hands so that he holds my face, and I feel swallowed by the adoration in his admission. All I can do is close my eyes as he holds me. I can think of nothing else when his nose brushes my forehead.

“I am overcome by all you have given me,” he whispers, and I think I might cry. My hands twist in the fabric of the sweatshirt he wears.

“I love your words,” I whisper back, “but you give me too much credit.” I pull back to look at his mirthful, glistening eyes and say: “If it were left up to me, I would never have given you twins.”

He laughs outright, unguarded and thrilled.

“Lucky for me, then,” he says, and kisses me.

I have kissed him hundreds, maybe thousands of times. We have shared passionate, unbridled kisses and desperate, devouring kisses. We’ve kissed at quick partings, and we’ve kissed with soft, gentle comfort. I like everything about them all. But this is something entirely new, something that surprises me still. It’s filled with gratitude and promises and dreams of the future, and though it is intimate, I would not have felt ashamed if someone had walked in.

It’s the kiss of complete trust, and in that moment, I feel assured that, in Cardan, I have not made a mistake. There is much to figure out still. But this is right.

So, we will have twins. I will meet this challenge with resolve. For right now, anyway, the quantity of babies is the least of our concerns.

“How in the hell am I supposed to get home?” I ask, the moment we pull apart. Cardan rests his hands on my shoulders, screwing up his beautiful mouth in thought. The ragwort horse. The bed rest. The doctor we must scrounge up somewhere. There are a dozen new bullets swirling on a to-do list, and none of them lead us back to Faerie any time soon.

“I haven’t the foggiest,” he confesses. “Which further complicates matters, because there is absolutely no chance that I am leaving you here.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” I say, and press back a smile. “And also glad,” I add.

Cardan meets my smile with a little wicked smirk of his own.

“Is it time we scheme together once again?” he asks.

We cannot get home until this is resolved, and we cannot leave Faerie ungoverned. I have no idea where to even start on this problem.

But that’s certainly never stopped us before.

There’s a knock at the door. The orderly has arrived with the wheelchair to take us back to Vivi and Heather. I give Cardan a secret, knowing smile.

“I suppose it is,” I agree.

-----------------------------

Tag list! Let me know if you’d like to be added: @yellowavocadopit, @dagypsygirl, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @booklover-sleeplover, @mwejh, @courtofjurdan, @faeriequeenofwest, @sugawsites, @loveyourselfsolid, @owl0y0s, @feelinglikecleopatra, @akaloto, @charrise, @persephxnecoven, @raging-bisexual-alert, @rteme, @nahthanks, @emmabookworm08, @elorcanislife, @snusbandxknifewife, @poeticbrownmermaid, 

#the folk of the air #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #vivienne duarte #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #post-qon #babies! #baby fic #pregnancy fic #fluff #jurdan fluff

[feckin-zicons]

that's why i hate larries, i hate them with all my heart. besides being boring they are hypocrites 🙄

Hey nonnie, sorry its taken me so long to reply but if you’re following me you know I’ve been travelling lately and have been more scatterbrained than usual. Not that I’m ever not scatterbrained, but its been just a little crazier than usual!

Now I wouldn’t go as far to say I hate Larries. After all their delusions can be pretty funny sometimes!

Joking aside, I don’t hate Larries, I love Larries, I’m a Larry, so I really hesitate to tarry the whole group with the same brush. However I do strongly agree with you that there are those who are complete hypocrites. Nothing annoys more more than when Larries ™ treat the other boys, other celebrities, their friends and even family as one more side character to the Larry Show.

In particular when Larries ™ flood comment sections asking or in some cases, ordering people to confirm rumors/the couple being together. The absolute fucking disrespect. Not just because they’re flooding comment sections in videos streams, tweets, what have you, that sometimes have nothing to do with the couple in question, but because its presumptuous and rude as fuck to think they’re owed a coming out- just because they’re fans of the boys.

Stop it. Thats fucking ugly as hell.

While I have no doubt all the boys will one day be out (as referenced by their continued efforts in fighting the closet. I don’t get the sense the boys will just stop at being freed from their contractual obligations). It should and will be on their own terms. Provided they’re not forcibly outed some other way.

Coming out is a deeply personal experience and no one, no one ever, has the right to out someone else. I’ll never not be absolutely furious at the Larries ™ who posted about having ‘receipts’ that would out the boys. Which… tbh weren’t receipts at all but thats a whole other story. I’m also still angry at the reactions after Liams Attitude spread that wouldn’t have been as bad if not for the entitled fandom that peddled ridiculous claims beforehand about Liam confirming Larry to be real.

I mean… What the actual fuck. Setting aside the fandom experience of the time, and boy was it an experience. What right would Liam have confirming Louis and Harry’s relationship? I mean, get some perspective? It doesn’t help that a lot of fandom adults were the ones coming up with, and reblogging those theories and the younger fans ate it up. It would have made more sense for Louis and Harry to do it but idk maybe I’m still out of touch for thinking so. I mean, it felt like every other week someone was talking about Larry coming out. It was such a shit storm oh my god.

Biggest issue I still have with them is that the entitled behaviour hasn’t stopped. For some it seems like, Larry coming out is it for them. Like pack it up, goodbye, shows over, Louis and Harry are gay and in a relationship and everything is rainbows, we get to see cute pictures of them and everyone lives happily ever after.

Yeah, no. Coming out, for anyone, is just the beginning, can’t even begin to imagine what its like for them. They’re still going to need everyones support, and it irritates me that for some fans it seems so fucking conditional.

Time and time again, I’ve seen tweets, and posts, and videos, whatever, going on about Larry coming out and it reads like a fucking wattpad story. Not just that but its always on the assumption by the poster, on the off chance they consider the other 3/5ths of the band and Ziam being a possibility, that Larry will come out first?

What?

I’m sorry but, what?

Everything I’ve seen from the boys tells me they’re all in this together, they support each other and are working through the bullshit as a team. We have all seen the No Judgement music video yes? The merch, posts, double speak etc referencing each other, yes?

I mean, I suppose if you only look at Louis and Harry, like so many do, sure. Only Larry matters, everyone else is a side character in their life.

(Lemme just, scream for a second).

However, that kind of thinking leads them to the wrong conclusions. Like… assuming the SBB/RBB countdown was attributed to nothing, when it counted down to Liam finally being free of Sophia. In the years since, I’ve seen Larries ™ backtrack on claiming the bears had anything to do with the boys, that they weren’t behind it at all, or that they were just trolling the fandom.

You know, despite all the proof otherwise, and some really, really good posts breaking down clues about what the boys were trying to tell us. The moment something might not actually be about Louis and Harry its like all their thinking shuts off. Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating.

Seriously, fans of the other boys as individulas, not just Ziams, have been talking about the stunts too and how they fit together. Its why we tend to be right, because we’re considering the entire group. They’re still a group. They’re not free until all of them are free.

Just for that Nialls coming out first. Lmao. I’ll call it now. Lets go Niall, whens the baby coming. We all wanna know. Its been years.

Imagine, imagine! Acting like coming out is some race to be won. The fucking audacity.

Go outside and touch fucking grass you absoulte ninny.

I get it, you want to be vindicated, you want to be rewarded for putting your faith in two celebrities being together.

Newsflash you dandelionfluff, its not a race, Louis and Harry coming out isn’t a fucking prize. Thats not what supporting a relationship looks like.

Its worse when someone admits they don’t know much about Ziam or the possibility of Niall being LGBT+, and claim they’re open to it, but then immediately tweet or reblog or sub tweet or tag comment a post or answer an ask from another Larry ™ talking about how Larries ™ are the most marginalized and persecuted group.

???

In what fucking world?

IN WHAT FUCKING WORLD?

If we wanna play that game, boohoo, the media claims Louis and Harry aren’t friends anymore because of crazy shippers. Meanwhile Zayn publicly isn’t friend with anyone and “left” the band… despite the Ziam fandom calling the stunt about either Louis or Zayn “leaving” and getting it down to the exact week (the second article coming out a week before about the Ziam kiss pretty much cemented it for Zayn leaving. Which did a lot to fan the flames of the already rabid fanbase when Ziam got two articles confirming a Ziam kiss over the years and Larry got nada. Like that actually means anything).

Not to mention Larries ™ using the hetties and management tactics against the other parts of the fandom to silence them.

Who cares what the media says anyway!  TPTB, 1DHQ, The Sun, The Mirror, Simon and his minions and their unpaid interns have used the media to split the fandom apart and it worked.

Who the fuck cares if the media calls the 1D stans delusional, you know the truth! The truth it out there and you’ve seen it! The truth is coming! Who gives a damn about what some two bit “journo” who failed out of their creative writing course writes? They get worse by the year. If it wasn’t so pathetic and hilarious I might actually feel embarrassed for them. They can’t even come up with new stories and have just taken to copying old articles, but you’re upset with them??? Give it a rest. Honestly.

The sense of disconnect, entitlement and victimhood of some Larries ™ is absolutely ridiculous.

Oh my god they’re Karens. I’m not trying to be insulting, but thats exactly who they remind me of.

I’m not going to say its a surprise to me that so many in the Ziam fandom are POC, LGBT+, and Neurodivergent and any combination of those, but I am going to say I’ve read a lot of Larry fics that just have Het sex made gay. Those in the Ziam fandom just tend to look at facts in a different way than Larries do due to their life experiences. A interfaith, interracial, relationship where one or both partners fall under the Bi umbrella (not saying Louis or Harry can’t be or aren’t Bi+ but rumors, and the way the fandom markets them, puts them firmly in the gay category) looks very, very different than gay or straight relationship. Both looking from outside and being in one. There’s just different dynamics at play that aren’t often realized or understood by the gays and hets.

Its not a bad thing. All relationships are different. The issue is that theres a lot of biphobia/racism/religious prejudice etc that arises from people being unwilling to understand the inherent differences.

Taking myself for example, I’m bi, like, bi as hell, and I don’t understand how gays and hets only like one gender. I just don’t. Can’t wrap my head around it. If someone asks me to choose one gender over the others to prefer I can’t. Its so stressful. My brain goes into panic mode and it feels like I’m being torn apart. My sense of identity is shaken- its a shit feeling. I just can’t lie to myself like that. If other people feel the same well, its no wonder bi+ have such high rates of depression and suicide. Its not about choosing who to like, there is no choice, I just feel attraction to everyone. Aces, I get. Its similar to being the opposite of what I feel, or not feeling an attraction to someone I’m not interested in. Easy. Gays and hets? I’m completely lost on.

Completely, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try and understand where they’re coming from. Its alien to me, personally, but I’m not going to shut down the fact, that theres a fuck ton of people who only like one gender or try and make up reasons as to why they’re actually bi+

I digress, none of the boys fall neatly into the gay stereotypes, its just that parts of the Larry fandom have boxed Louis and Harry into certain roles to fit preconceived notions (likely do to them initially fitting in better with the white, sassy, somewhat effeminate twink thats been plastered all over Hollywood as their “LGBT+ representation” for years. Gag), they can understand better, and only look for proof to back up their theories but don’t look at things objectively.

They really need to get out more and make some LGBT+ friends that aren’t on the internet and talk to some gay elders. They need educating that’s not the often sanitized and insulting Hollywood version, that’s all I’m saying.

They made Louis and Harry more palatable for themselves and its… really gross.

I don’t know, I don’t get it.

Some Larries ™ turned the boys into their fandom and fanfiction stereotypes when they’re so much more than that. The Sony leaks should have been enough to dissuade the fandom, and prove that the brand sold to the broader audience is just that- a brand, and yet… Niall only talks about food and golf and Ireland and is only allowed to be straight or ace. If he exists at all its just to be Capt Niall. Liams slow and dumb and depending on the day he’s either Capt Liam or a horrific abusive homophobe. Zayns just The Worst, a unstable drug addict, and the boys hate each other, and they should have kicked him out of the band sooner because he never wanted to be part of them anyway, etc.

It drives me absolutely around the bend some days. They’re real people who don’t owe anyone anything, especially not coming out.

Yes, I think they will. But they’re not obligated to. They can change their minds, I’ll support them regardless of an “official” coming out or not.

Look, a part of me gets it. They wanna be right, they wanna prove the haters wrong, they want to be able to say I called it all along! The vindication will be sweet.

But like, it takes a quick look at someone other than Louis and Harry to realize theres something hinky going on with Liam, Zayn and Niall. Please listen to their fans who have spent just as much time as you have looking into Louis and Harry compiling together evidence.

It might take a weekend to watch the ILYSM and pterodactyl bros videos and a few more hours looking into some Niall blogs, which isn’t much compared to the hours I know they’ve spent looking into Larry. At least then they’ll have enough information to form an opinion on things.

I wonder, for some, what would happen if Larry didn’t come out, or didn’t come out first, or one of the other boys was outed against their will. Because… I don’t know. It seems like some would rather just be proven right at this point.

I get it. We’re tired. Its been eleven long years. But this isn’t a television show were everything can come to a head with a s3 or s4 cliff hanger and fixed in the series finale. Its real life, and they started off as boys trusting industry veterans who never had their best interests at heart.

Iduno. I just want some Larries ™ to take a step out of the echo chamber, realize life isn’t The Larry Show & co. And especially. ESPECIALLY, that every instance were someone, friends, family, co-works, industry peeps etc support the boys they are SUPPORTING THE BOYS, NOT THE FANDOM. They are not “confirming Larry for the fans” they’re doing it to support the couple, not to cater to the fandom. Please stop confusing the two. There’s a huge fucking difference. Learn it.

#Honestly it should be the Liam Payne the three guys who’ve had a crush on him and the one who married him. #aka the hill I'll die on #lmao #sorry not sorry #IM SORRY IT LOOKS LIKE I HAD A LOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT THIS THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD #ASDFGHJKL; #also please don't think I'm calling anyone out specifically #these are a lot of generalizations and trends I've noticed after being in fandom for nearly 11 years they pop up all the damn time #circles we're just going in circles #I've been following Ziam in particular since the Nov 2011 interview #but suspected Liam had a crush sometime before when I saw a gifset of him talking about Zayns birthday presentsbc he as acting the exact sa #e way I was when I was crushing on a girl I knew #I saw myself in him and ignored it for another day #lmaooo #ziam #larry tunnel vision #larry vs ziam #Larry vs Niall #fandom bs #ask

[kyloren]

i was never really into the jonsa ship, but that post of yours has got me really interested... do you have any fave fics of them??

welp, we’re going old-school, lads. prepare for some of my favourite fandom throwbacks well, I failed at that, I put some of the newer things on the list, too

CANON-VERSE:

Now You See Me: Kissed by fire, Ygritte thought to herself, just like me. 

Goodbye Means Going Away (And Going Away Means Forgetting): Memory is unreliable. No one understands this better than Rickon Stark.

Take My Crown Away (Don’t Smile So Sweetly, My Love): A world where everything is easier. Except for those who love, and love too much.

Build a Ladder to the Stars: Jon abandons the Night’s Watch to join Robb’s cause. After rescuing Sansa from King’s Landing, he and Sansa find themselves in a relationship they never saw coming.

A Winter’s Tale: The War of Three Dragons comes to the Vale, bringing Jon Snow and Sansa Stark together once more.

The Winter of Our Discontent: In the end it is Jon and his men of the Night’s Watch who come to take her back to Winterfell.

tell me true (who are you): Ned Stark brought a dark-haired, grey-eyed bastard babe home and called him son. Years later, Jon Targaryen does the same.

Lift Me Like an Olive Branch and Be My Homeward Dove: She never dreams of Jon Snow but in the end he is the one that comes for her under a Targaryen banner, the might of Winterfell and the North behind him with their father’s sword on his back.

The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold): Winter came and brought Jon home. [this is the first Jonsa fic I ever read, boy, did it fuck me up]

A Bronze Crown: In the end there are no knights. In the end Sansa must rescue herself. Based on the prompt: he doesn’t ride to her rescue; she comes north with her granduncle and the armies of the Vale to wage war on the Boltons, save his life and teach his assassins and the Boltons a sharp lesson.

how ruthless are the gentle*: “Yes, I do.” The easiest lie he’s ever told, by far. It came so naturally, he hardly thought of it as false. “She’s easy to love.”

Tell the Ones That Need to Know (We Are Headed North)*: After years of confinement in the Red Keep with Ned prisoner in the black cells, the Dragon Queen comes. With the knowledge that Jon Snow is actually a Targaryen, she agrees to let the Starks return to Winterfell only if Jon marries one of the Stark daughters. Sansa volunteers so they can all go home. Soon she figures out being married to Jon isn’t bad, but it is complicated.

Cripples, Bastards and Broken Things*: We know no King, but the King in the North whose name is Stark. 

Dragons of Red, Dragons of White*: An AU where the Battle of the Trident took place, but just between Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon. Their duel and its outcome have ramifications that none could foresee. In the world built afterwards, dragons once again rule and roam Westeros, among them the son of a northern beauty and the king. Prince Jon and his kin, Stark and Targaryen alike, face new challenges from both without and within. Whatever the future holds, the Seven Kingdoms will learn that, whether in a coat of red or a coat of white, a dragon still has claws.

A Knight’s Watch: Jon Snow is forbidden to take the black by his father. Instead he sent to squire for a famous knight, beginning a long arduous journey that causes him to cross paths with characters he never would have. Along the way he learns truths long hidden and discovers love in the most unlikely of places.

The Conquest*: Three hundred years after Aegon the Conqueror built a new empire on the ashes of the Valyrian Freehold the known world is a place of war. The Targaryen Empire is pressed by enemies, the Seven Kingdoms war amongst themselves and forces contrive to pull them all apart.

Live Without Shame: When Catelyn’s treatment of Winterfell’s Bastard unexpectedly softens, Sansa reconsiders her relationship with Jon. But despite the revelations that ensue, Jon must and will always remain Winterfell’s Bastard and suffer its consequences.

The Tempered Kingdoms*:  After years of wars, death, destruction, politics, and White Walkers, a tentative calm has returned to Westeros partially due to the rulership of King Jon and Queen Daenerys. But politics rues its head again as Stannis Baratheon demands his right to rule, while the former Queen Cersei languishes in a cell, plotting her revenge against all who live above her. Sansa Stark is forced to return to King’s Landing after being found by the rumored lovers Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth.

winterbloom: “You’ve traveled a long way for a rumor.” Sansa lives at the Wall under the protection of her brother Jon Snow, but when Sandor Clegane comes looking for her, she and Jon begin to realize that she is not as safe as they once hoped.

As History Changes: Jon agrees to accompany Stannis south to the Vale and he meets a person he did not expect to meet.

hold onto your heart (you’ll keep it safe): When Sansa turns eleven her wrist burns. She excitedly unwraps the cloth guarding her skin, waiting eagerly for the name to finish forming. The dark letters stop after only three and when Sansa leans in closer she realises that she knows that name and she knows that handwriting already.

carve your heart into mine: Sansa spent many evenings sewing her wedding dress by the fire, dreaming of her husband. The gown spilled out of her hands like a silver river, burning brighter from the light of the flames. She had embroidered it with a noble husband in mind, but she wed her lowborn love in the godswood, with snowflakes falling on her veil. 

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE:

Into the Darkness of the Grave: The tragic death of Eddard Stark’s cousin Lyanna brings her estranged son back to Winterfell House, the family’s old plantation home, for her funeral.

The Other Shoe: If anyone had told Sansa Stark that she would be married to Jon Snow, expecting a child with him at the age of nineteen she would have laughed at them. Not because Jon was a bad person, for he had slowly come out of his shell in the past seven years; not because she was young, her parents were married right out of Hogwarts; simply because Sansa Stark seemed to be the anthesis of a happy ending.

several sunlit days: Everyone knows you don’t date Robb Stark’s sisters unless you want to spend your days avoiding hexes and angry bludgers shot at your head. Too bad Jon’s traitorous feelings could care less.

the unexpected champion: Jon must swim to The Black Lake and retrieve something *cough* Sansa *cough* stolen from him. This task makes him realize who he should invite to the Yule Ball.

Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Sansa needs a new guitarist, Jon needs a new band, and the two of them definitely don’t need each other.

and labor till the work is done: Stark Industries is a family legacy she was hoping to avoid: Robb is a project manager, grooming to eventually be a partner, Arya is a summer intern with Bran sure to follow next year and Rickon in another three, and even Jon Snow, who is technically not family but who has been around for as long as Sansa can remember, works as an estimator. But Sansa is not who she was at sixteen or eighteen or even twenty and she’s still in the process of learning what’s truly important, like who she is, who she wants to be, and what kind of people she wants in her life.

One Of The Few Things: Jaime and Sansa spend a lot of time pining over Brienne and Jon together. Sometimes, they actually even do their jobs.

flower shaped heart*: Alayne Stone has lived her whole life in her hidden tower, forbidden by Mother to leave. But she yearns for an adventure like the ones in the songs, so when a man named Jon Snow crashes into her tower and into her life, she seizes the chance. They travel to King’s Landing where the floating lanterns shine each year on her nameday. The new world is exciting and frightening, but Jon Snow is there to guide her every step. He is not nearly as terrible as Mother said men are, though the rest of the world might be. Danger, betrayals, and lies form the steps of their journey as Alayne uncovers terrible secrets.

Crawl up to my Room: Jon left her side after a few moments of silence and she watched him leave with a quiet thought playing in her mind. He was her stepbrother for only a few hours, and she already found herself utterly fascinated and irritated with Jon Stark. 

in the summer, as the lilacs bloom: “You did tech in high school,” Sansa points out. (Yeah, I did tech because you were playing the lead and I was in love with you.) Jon doesn’t tell her that, though. Of course not. Instead he agrees to spend his summer stage managing this passion project of hers, and some trace of his seventeen-year-old self has dried out his throat at the thought of three months’ constant contact with Sansa.

Down from the Mountain: Sansa flies home from college after her older brother Robb, one of the country’s hottest young pitchers, is hurt in a car accident. Robb’s best friend Jon is there to help the Stark family in any way he can.

Little Bed in the Big Woods: “I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack.”

A Game of Stars*: When the Mad Emperor hears that the Starks are Force-sensitive, he discovers the hidden rebel base on Hoth. He sends Jon there with one order: Burn them all. But bring the Stark children to Coruscant. It’s time for the two most powerful Force bloodlines in the galaxy to merge.

I’ll Pack My Goods for the Arkansas Woods*: When Sansa’s brother goes missing, it falls to her to defend the house and the woods against the greed of the Boltons and Freys. All of this would be much easier if she could fight fire with fire, and there’s a saying in the valley: that all the Starks are a little wild, and all the Targaryens are a little mad. Her cousin Jon just happens to be both.

In the Face of Death: On a long list of things Jon never expected, Sansa came top.

United States of Irreversible Oblivion: With the government losing its fight at the northern border, Sansa’s only hope is that one of its soldiers, Office Jon Snow, will return for her and save her from the horrors of a collapsing society.

remember me love when i’m reborn: ‘Longest Night’ has biggest night in hollywood history. “Joffrey wanted someone to make him famous, and as soon as Sansa wrote a movie for him that did just that, he left her in the dirt.”

Hear the Wolf*: The Starks are in Hogwarts. Sansa has to learn to stand up to her ex-boyfriend and Jon has to learn to face his past. They’re determined to do it alone. Will they ever admit they’re stronger together?

Somewhere in the Winter Woods*: Lost on her way to her grandmother’s cabin in the winter woods after running away from home, beautiful young Sansa thinks she’s run into trouble when she crosses a white wolf in the forest. Instead of harming her, the animal guides her to his master, a handsome warrior named Jon who lives in solitude and clothes himself in black.

* marks the ongoing stories. 

#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jon x sansa #sansa stark #jon snow #game of thrones #* #anonymous #ask box #in this tag resides fanfiction

[funsizearsonist]

Bleeding Ink (Luke angst)

Summary: Luke’s songwriting takes a hit when he gets hurt. He thought emotions made a song better, but he got the proportions wrong. or “Maybe have a little song with those feelings”

Category: Angst 

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Paring: N/A

Word Count: 1,559

Warnings/Includes: Like 1 swear, some mentions of an argument, and some descriptions of ~sadness~

A/N:  I hope you like this! I'm still very new at writing fanfiction so as always, constructive criticism and any feedback in general are much appreciated!! Hope you like it!! 

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: Thank u for supporting me on this @theolivekiddo!! I probably wouldn’t have posted it if not for you because I have no confidence and I thought it was ~bad~ :P I’m still not so sure it’s good but u convinced me to post it so that’s something I guess

AO3 link here

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

Jatp taglist: @n0wornever, @calamitykaty, @unsaidmegan, @morganayennefertyrell, @link-102, @crybabyddl, @willex-owns-my-heart (I’m hoping it’s ok to tag y’all bc u said in a post here that you’d like to be added to taglists but I can take you off anytime, just send me an ask :))

Taglist for everything <3: @theolivekiddo

Bleeding Ink

Luke wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he’s not quite the carefree troublemaker people think. The band knew, of course. He never had to tell them, they just knew. Probably because they were his family, they knew pretty much everything about each other. And now Julie knows, too. That’s about everyone he can come up with, besides Willie and maybe Flynn, that he actually knows now, so it looks like his secret is safe. The issue is the carefree part. Because Luke may be a hell of a troublemaker but he cares a lot.

He cares about his family, even through their ups and downs. He cares about his friends, his band; they’re pretty much a family to him too. And he cares, so so much, about music. Music has been there his whole life. Mostly rock, his favorite, but he can appreciate pretty much any kind of music. He’s listened to music throughout his whole life. It made him feel better when he was sad, widened his grins when he was happy, and kept all the in-betweens interesting. 

He only loved music more when he started writing it. Luke started writing music late in middle school, but he would probably kill you if you knew. He always thought it was good he started early to get it all out of the way. It wasn’t really music yet, just putting down words without having anything to say. He still thinks they were less of lyrics and more like pages of word vomit. The old notebooks from that first year or so are probably still lying around somewhere, but Luke would rather look forward than back at all of that. He puts meaning into his music now, and Luke thinks it’s only ever gotten better, especially working with Julie. Except for a short period in the middle where it definitely got worse. 

The thing is, Luke puts emotion into every one of his songs. He thinks you can’t have truly good music without putting at least a little bit of heart in it; and Luke cares so much about all of his music he can’t honestly help it. Writing music has helped him understand his feelings, and it’s his biggest way of expressing them. Usually though, he doesn’t really need music as an outlet or anything. He loves playing the songs he’s worked on, all the emotions that go with them. The electric energy in Now or Never, the reassurance and connection in Bright, the determination and fearlessness in Stand Tall, all of his songs had pieces of himself in them. But he writes them because he wants to, not because he needs to get anything out. Most of the time, at least.

There was only really one instance in Luke’s life where that wasn’t the case. Where he was so overwhelmed with emotion that he had to get it out onto a page before he could move on. Dying and coming back as ghosts, making friends with the girl who brought you back and being able to play music again, only to find your only surviving bandmate stole your old songs, and the whole Caleb thing probably should have done it. The thing is, Luke (and Alex and Reggie) got put through that rollercoaster so fast that he could barely make out emotions from the jumbled blur, much less put them into music. Before he could even say “What the hell is going on here?!” Luke was writing new songs. For their new band with Julie, no less. And he had pretty much gotten past all that drama already, somehow. It probably had something to do with Julie. After all, “No music is worth making, Julie, if we’re not making it with you.”

The time that really got to Luke, was actually part of how he ended up playing up music anyhow. It all started when his mother got him a guitar for his birthday, happy to support his interest in music. Perhaps she didn’t understand quite how deep the interest ran, because she might never have gotten it if she had. He was immediately captivated by it, and within a week Luke had the basics pretty much down already. It didn’t take him long to get even better, and to decide to form a band with some friends. He went home that night, blood pumping fast with excitement, and told his mom the news. It didn’t go over quite as well as he thought.

His mother had already become a bit apprehensive about how much Luke had come to like the guitar, but she had decided not to say anything as she thought it was just a harmless hobby. But then Luke came home and told her he was in a band, and all the fears rushed to surface and spilled over. She never should have had that much of a reaction or been so harsh, but it was all because she cares about Luke. She is his mother after all. And he had already been falling a bit behind on schoolwork, spending all his free time working out new songs with his guitar. That would only get worse if he joined a band, not even considering his future and the bandmates he wanted to play with, and where they wanted to play music, and all sorts of other concerns that came out when Luke told her about the new band.

It really hit Luke hard that his mother was instantly full of criticisms. Couldn’t she just be happy for him? He came home all excited and she instantly twisted it into hurt and anger, which turned their discussion into more of a fight, or at least certainly didn’t help matters. He’s not quite sure anymore exactly what was said that night, but he got the memo- “You can’t ditch everything for a band when you live in this household” - so he lashed back with some venom of his own, and left. It didn’t even take a whole night for him to regret it. 

Biking away with basically only his guitar, the thing that mattered most to him but his mother hated most. Luke only took a good few minutes of furious pedaling to realize that he had no idea where he was going, and he was exhausted. All the fight drained out of him, all the adrenaline faded away, he was just hurt. No more energy to be angry, all the white noise of yelling in the argument cleared from his head, and he couldn’t believe his mother said all that to him. He was so excited to come home and tell his family about his new band, just earlier that evening. It already seemed like so long ago. He felt a little bad about the things he said back to his mom already too, but it was still very clear to him that they were in retaliation. If his mother hadn’t exploded at him for chasing his passion, it never would have happened. He ends up deciding to crash at the Molina’s place. After all Rose did say they could use the garage whenever they wanted. Luke was already almost drowning in this dread about everything that happened, and he was still too tired to really realize it. He just decided to knock out.

It hit him full force in the morning. Luke woke up in an unfamiliar room, confused for about half a second, before getting hit by a tidal wave of “oh, shit.” 

Fighting with his family is what really managed to upset him. Nothing in Luke’s life had ever hit him that hard before. That’s when his songwriting really hit a low point for a bit. He wrote Unsaid Emily once he had gotten himself together as a way to  conclude his feelings on the matter, and a way to say “I’m sorry” to his mom without actually saying it right to her. He wrote the song to summarize everything he had to say about what happened, but he tried to leave most of the emotion out of it. He learned his lesson about not putting his feelings about it all into song.

In the few weeks before that, his writing was closer to the state they were in middle school. Except this time instead of having nothing to say, he had too much he needed to get out, and he didn’t know how to make it into proper lyrics. He poured too much emotion into them. Instead of being a wave of energy over a crowd, they’d be more like a tsunami, too overpowering. Luke was just writing them for himself at that point, even the band wouldn’t see those songs, much less a stage. 

The one thing he could come up with to say on it, looking back, is that’s the thing about being hurt. You have too much to hold inside of you so you bleed your soul out onto paper in ink, but instead of making it beautiful, it just makes the pages dark. All the feelings are just as ugly when you put them down on paper, and once they’re no longer caught in your chest, you don’t want to have anything to do with them. But their ink still stains your hands, and you know they may be gone but you can never forget them. 

End A/N:  I wrote this all at like 3 AM so I wasn't really focused on the quality of the writing and more so the narrative, hope u don't mind that. It doesn't really?? Have a point?? I don't think I was going somewhere with it I just wanted to express my thought on how Luke would be doing. Let me know what you thought! If this wasn't written in the dead of night how could it have been better? What parts did you like about it? If you don’t want to give feedback, that’s fine. Just please reblog or maybe comment if you enjoyed it, don’t just leave a like. Thanks for reading!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fics #jatp fanfic #jatp fic #luke-centric jatp fic #jatp luke angst #luke fic #jatp luke fic #luke patterson #luke patterson jatp #funsizefics

[taekooktimeline]

1/2 I’m so glad you’re answering asks again! I really value your opinion when it comes to taekook. I’ve noticed many of the recent asks seem a little skeptical, which I don’t understand. I just keep thinking back to the 2020 Grammys. It wasn’t an accident that they wore matching outfits to such a huge event, posed as a couple on the red carpet when the other members started to move ahead, wore rings on their left hands, etc. Is it just me or was this a really big deal?

Kayla: well said anon and I totally agree 😭honestly by the end of the week after episode 6 of IST released, I was so drained and angry at how people were reacting. I don’t know why people fixated on it over all the other events leading up to that, other than I truly feel people actively seek negativity when it comes to TK. So many people, even after I break down my stance on BV4, tattoo girl and 2019 overall, still refuse to see how TK acted around all of that. I don’t mind if people disagree but how do you see all the events surrounding that month break, and clearly see no underlying tension or drama, yet find an issue? I don’t get it.

Part of me thinks there’s a few issues here, one of which is some people have short term memory in this fandom. Grammys 2020 was AMAZING and I’m with you - it was bold, loud and a statement. Jk broke the lineup to stand by Tae. They wore rings on their left ring finger while wearing similar matching outfits. They were affectionate to the point non listeners asked if they were dating. That said everything about who Tae and Jk are to each other. It was, in my mind, very intentional of them, at a very large scale, international event which they knew a lot of people would view. But that was January and IST came in Sept so people focus on that. They take it as “real time” and forget what came before. Time moves forward, but they tend to void out sweet moments for the content that is out “today”.

It also doesn’t help that this show was marketed as a relaxed vacation for BTS, a natural setting. People took this conversation at face value without factoring this is a closeted couple who were - generally but not always - restricted in official content leading up to this and the new contracts taking effect. And some didn’t bother questioning how odd it was this deep talk took place on camera, nor the fact we didn’t learn anything new. In reality, this moment was sweet. Tae was clearly nervous but excited. Jimin, their loving, best friend, played along with Tae in acting a skit to get Jk to the tent. They had a very sweet talk with Jk reminiscing about old times. Unfortunately I’ve noticed people have a tendency to focus on the bad and think it defines an entire relationship. They took the negative subtext, which Jk didn’t say, and took his comment “a SIDE” became awkward and ran with it. They didn’t use critical thinking to really consider setting - a public televised moment - or the fact this is a closeted couple, or that Tae had hard times that probably did impact his moods and how those around him reacted.

As for the “focusing on” I think this is something that is always going to be prevalent with taekook until they say something concrete because every single time Jungkook and Tae do something there are a million people standing behind them with all these excuses of “oh tae does this with everyone” “jungkook hates tae” “tae doesn’t like jungkook” “jungkook touches/stares at everyone too” “you’re making them uncomfortable” etc. I think people just want to focus on the negative because they either can’t or choose not believe at the very basic nature of this entire pairing that Tae and Jungkook are friends (for whatever reason, and I’m not talking about the people who don’t like ‘shipping’ but are fine with others doing what they want, I’m talking about those who actively attack people who are peacefully just reposting moments or enjoying themselves on a FREE platform and not spreading any actual malice). Honestly, in my opinion this is no longer even a couple thing, people can’t stand the idea of Tae and Jungkook even being friends. When that rumour came out that Tae and Jungkook went shopping, not only did someone feel the urge to create a false rumour to show how quickly ‘taekookers believe lies’ but also there were like 10001 people coming into the comments to discredit this woman... I mean for what? Are the members not allowed to go shopping with each other anymore? I fail to see the big deal with this.

At the heart of this matter is that people in this fandom are okay with all the members just being FRIENDS but not taekook. Regardless of whether they see romantic connotations in their actions, people can’t seem to even fathom the possibility that two individuals that have been in a group for 7 years, who became friends during debut and were considered the closest—would even be friends today. That’s actually what’s the saddest and most transparent issue within this fandom. Now people can say what they like but I’ve seen tons of experiments and things that have shown this issue to be fairly black and white. As for the SOOP conversation from episode 6, i think Jk made it pretty clear at the GDA 2021 what he meant—I saw that as a clear statement to how he sees Tae and what Tae means to him—I saw people who were dissecting his words and pulling up naver dictionary which is a whole other issue but the fact of the matter is they directly engaged with that episode “Taehyung hyung and I have been friends since debut, we were very close” “what are we not close anymore” *laughs* “no that’s not what i meant, since then you’ve become even more reliable and dependable, so keep working hard and stay healthy lets do something together soon with everyone when it's safer” [I can’t remember if he said everyone, e.g. 여러분 or a variation, I’d have to rewatch it]. Taehyung point blank asked him “what? are we not close anymore?” and Jk said no and reaffirmed they have always been close, despite what people tried to say after Ep 6.

I just find it interesting how everyone was so quick to take Jk for his word and tell us to “stop twisting his words” during that entire SOOP ordeal, yet when Jungkook makes a statement like this at the GDA people are so fast to start going “oh he said gentleman, that means they don’t really like each other and he’s being nice” “did he hesitate? I feel like he hesitated?” “Jungkook looks like he doesn’t want to be there” “taehyung didn’t even pay attention to his message, he asked him about his hair”.

I think that really says it all about how people treat taekook.

I also want to make a point on where some of the hate derives from. My personal opinion is that the hate or friend narrative is largely driven by Bh. They were the ones who separated them starting in 2017 , which gave fans all the freedom to fill in the blanks as to what happened. Being two of the most popular members of the biggest band in the world, this allowed fans who largely ignore ships to see them as rivals even. In official content, there was never any chance that Bh let them think differently. Don’t even get me started on BH because after episode 6 I really stepped back and evaluated how much BH supports. And I’m really confused by the company right now.

I hope I’ve answered this thoroughly and my apologies it’s so long! Ultimately I think there’s a lot of factors at play: BH separating TK in official content a lot of times in the old contract let people create stories; a lot in this fandom seems to actively look for drama or negativity with TK; people take official content as real time events; they don’t factor in IST being televised, how we didn’t learn anything substantive or new, and twisted words to suit a story; short term memory (Grammys was Jan, IST was Sept).

Finally, thanks for being patient with asks. That’s so sweet to read you’re happy I’m answering them again🥰 There's close to 110 in the inbox 😭I’m going to try my best to answer a couple a week at the least. But the inbox does get me anxious, and it can be draining with the negative asks. Between work, my personal life and the timeline itself, which take priority, I’ll do my best but I appreciate the understanding it takes time to get to questions, and it doesn’t help I’m very nervous people can misconstrue what I say, so I take a while to draft thoughts.

Sara’s General Disclaimer: I may select some asks, think about them and answer in the future through either Tumblr, Twitter or YouTube. Kayla will take over the discussion section as she enjoys active debates and will make the time for it, but I still read them all. Be nice to each other 💜 As it’s natural, I may or may not differ with Kayla’s take/ words.

#taekooktimeline #asks #discussions

[popmusicu]

Pop as a queer listener

As a queer person myself, I’ve always wondered where the idea that “this certain part of the LGBTQ+ community loves this artist” comes from. I get how musicians showing support to the community with their words, donations, by them holding up a pride flag or coming out can make people feel secure and welcome new listeners, but sometimes it’s not as easy as that to point out. Throughout history there’s always been genres that’ve attracted our demographic by being a safe space (until appropiated by straight white cis people as it happened with punk), but what’s so special about pop specifically?

Well, I’ve found that a big part relates to the fact that in pop music, everything’s a performance. From gender roles to feelings, everything’s exaggerated in a very specific way and I believe, in a biased opinion, that a lot of LGBTQ+ people can relate to it. Most of us were made to feel ashamed at a very young age so we learned to hide those parts of ourselves, so we free them through music and the fandoms that follow. For men, it taps into the femininity they’re boxed into by a misogynistic society the moment they’re attracted to the same gender but coming from women that try to celebrate the femenine and all of it's layers: Madonna, Gaga, Beyonce, Cher, among many more. For women, however, the biggest example that comes to mind from my lifetime at least is One Direction. While I went more of the emo kid route when 1D was at it’s peak, I was still fascinated by them and specifically Directioners. They were loud and surprisingly powerful, hacking into things and winning every single award that involved fan voting. Crazy from the outside maybe, but truly a force to be reckoned with. And funnily enough, a huge amount of those passionate teens ended up not being straight or cis. With One Direction and boy bands in general, the performance of gender equals to them being marketed to appeal romantically to their audience: Harry was painted out to be a heartbreaker even at his young age, Louis was the rebel jokester, Niall was the silly but sweet one, Zayn the mysterious bad boy and Liam a middleground between all those archetypes. They are a performance of masculinity and it’s hard for them to feel threating in a way that any day to day man would feel for women.

When it comes down to Kpop I see elements of both. Women see these non threathing but extremely attractive men with a different interpretation of fashion and masculinity (specially with fans in the west, where male artists do minimal makeup and wearing a skirt is groundbreaking) and relate to them to the point of naming some of them as wlw magnets (Yoongi from BTS or TXT all together) but also have this huge amount of girl groups to really see themselves in, even more so with physical touch between them being so normalized (Although it’s a topic that deserves a conversation of itself due to it’s fetishization of same gender attraction). The same thing goes for men, they can see these idols of boy groups hug and care for eachother in a consistent manner and find representation that we as a community hardly get in the music industry, but can also be part of the girl groups fandoms and be welcomed. Even with South Korea’s conservative stance in gender and sexuality, we somehow found ourselves a beautiful union worldwide where bit by bit it’s helping secure a place for ourselves and changing the industry itself.

The connection with hyperpop it’s something that also really sparks my interest and in my search of answers I discovered a book called “how pop music broke the binary” by Sasha Geffen and the interview about it by The Nation. In the interview, they’re asked about how hyperpop became such a prevalent genre for both trans artists and fans. She elaborates on how the processing and distortion that hyperpop is known for traces back to Wendy Carlos and her creation of the synthethizer. Trans artists found meaning in the transformation of their voices to reach new boundaries, breaking this binary of femenine and masculine voices by creating a new sound with it's own standard and giving us trans icons such as Sophie and Arca. I find this to be really important, as it finally gives credit to the trans community when often they’re invisibilized and used as tokens in the spaces where they’ve been the blueprint.

As a sort of conclussion to my thoughts, I belive pop has always been more than an easy marketable sound. It’s been a space for experimentation and creativity, where artists have defied the expectations of it being devoid of dept and only for money and have actually built a foundation of acceptance hand by hand with the community itself and created beautiful art. We’ve opened spaces that were made with such a heteronormative design to queerness, where we can now see a lot of us in the spotlight without having to hide the parts of ourselves that we were told bury, and we will do so as time passes because queer people have always been such a leading force in the media and the creative field.

Savka Polo Valdivia

#submission

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

It's so nice to see someone from the GG fandom who likes Vanessa! It's a shame she didn't have a storyline that was only hers (she was always only a prop on someone else's). I really wanted her and Blair to become friends because I think they are a weirdly good match. They could've bonded trough their love of art and even have been roommates on s3. I would love if you could throw some headcanons about that relationship, but feel free to use this ask just to say nice things about Vanessa.

oh agreed with you re: vanessa never having her own storyline! i remember seeing someone on here mention that after a while - specifically in s4 - they stopped viewing vanessa as a character and saw her as a plot device, which is why she was always conveniently in the right place at the right time eavesdropping on people. it’s incredibly depressing.

i loved the fact that vanessa was such a radical marxist (she’s never used these words for herself that i remember, but those are her vibes.) it was so refreshing in like... this gloomy complicated WASPy environment where everyone was so obsessed with class and reputation

this meta does a better job at explaining it than i ever can

vanessa was just: badass, confident, outspoken, unashamed & unapologetic of being who she was, intelligent, cynical but also a ray of light. this remains one of my favourite caps of her. look at her smile!

i wish vanessa had gotten to make films and stuff - we saw a lot of dan’s creative success, i wish we’d gotten that much focus on vanessa. 

one of my.. headcanons... i think i was gonna write fic about this, even, is that vanessa makes a documentary starring nate. they’re both joking around and just doing it for the lols, but it actually blows up, and ... nate & vanessa being nate & vanessa, the documentary isn’t superficial at all. 

obviously, vanessa doesn’t need nate to be successful though, i just really loved nate x vanessa and am incredibly self-indulgent

vanessa & dan should’ve started a podcast together in college!!! 

also yeah, i do think vanessa had character flaws, but everyone on this show is morally skewed one way or the other, and i wish her storyline had been better + i wish her flaws had been handled more gently, if that makes sense to say.

i also wish we’d gotten to see vanessa’s sister ruby + her lesbian punk band + her apartment, where vanessa also lived. i’m so curious about like.... how vanessa would decorate her room in her house, etc etc.

more under the cut (because this got SO long!)

re: her relationship with blair:

i feel the same as you abt that! i was talking to solange about this and apparently all of that ...happened? in the books??? blair & vanessa did become best friends and roommates. i love them being best friends -i’m not going to say too much about my platonic headcanons for these 2, because it’s kind of central to my s3 dair AU, which i’m writing right now! there’s going to be so much vanessa, istg.

i found this response by accident about the show being shitty to her, and i think “mix of racism and laziness” on part of the writers hits the nail on the head. 

i wish blair & vanessa had become friends in s2 over rescuing nate from that duchess. i find it really annoying that dan & blair could become friends due to their mutual love for serena, but blair & vanessa couldn’t become friends from their mutual love for nate?? that’s the tv storyline we were robbed of, seriously. 

i got distracted & started talking about my vanessa ships, so take that, too:

i actually highkey ship blair/vanessa either as much as i ship dair, or more. this post ​does a pretty good job at explaining it. my tags on this post basically say “the dair dynamic minus all the melancholy” --> i love dan, but he tends to stew in sad feelings a lot of the time, and neither blair nor vanessa does that, so i think blairnessa as a relationship would be MUCH less angsty than dair was at initial stages. 

serenessa is such a good ship too. i was telling nads, “serenessa photojournalists who travel around the world AU lives in my head rent free.” i think serena & vanessa both have like.. a very free spirit thing going for them, and i feel that neither of them would be happy doing the standard ‘get married, raise kids, white picket fence’ future kind of thing (which, well, dan and nate probably would. which is why i think they should get married to each other.)

i liked early season natessa, before things got weird. nate & vanessa genuinely supported each other + believed in each other + learnt things from each other and grew as people from it. nate encouraged her to write her SATs and give college a shot, and during most of nate’s s2 arc w/ his grandfather, vanessa was the only person who TRULY believed in him and believed that nate could break out from the influence of his family.

i wrote nate & vanessa on their first date from vanessa’s POV if that’s something you’re interested in reading.

i’m also... pretty sure this wasn’t deliberate, but the way that matthew settle & jessica szhor played rufus and vanessa gave me weirdly intense romantic vibes? vanessa always has the brightest & biggest smiles for rufus, and rufus is considerate and caring and respectful to vanessa much more than dan, her actual best friend, is. 

i wrote this fic abt vanessa dealing w/ guilt over having a crush on rufus, and talking to nate about it, which was an interesting thing to write, lmao. 

even keeping that aside, i think it’s interesting that vanessa was better friends with rufus than she was with dan!! i regard it mostly the same way i regard lily being a better mother to chuck than to serena & eric - “lmao, what is this show. how tragic and awful but also how hilarious.” 

#meta #vanessa abrams #long post #i put this in word just in case tumblr crashed and my response is 945 words long?!?!? #anon #i love vanessa #and i think she gets an unfair amount of hate #a lot of which is just badly hidden racism and classism from what ive seen

[zenonaa]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Naegi Komaru, Asahina Aoi, Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyouko Additional Tags: togafukaweek2020 Series: Part 6 of TogaFuka Week 2020

Summary: Byakuya and Touko tell their son about the events leading up to their engagement... with help from their friends.

Comments: Day 6: Family and Wedding! It’s a two-part fic, so the second part will be posted tomorrow.

***

For as long as Aloysius Togami had been alive, his parents had been married. His father had always been Byakuya Togami, and his mother had always been Touko Togami. He knew she used to be Touko Fukawa, but she more than happily disowned her family name upon marriage and adopted her husband’s.

On multiple occasions, Aloysius paged through their wedding albums. Saw their smiles, saw their friends, saw the western theme. What he didn’t know much about was what led up to the wedding, and that was something he was especially interested to know about, now that he found himself at a similar phase in life.

“Mother. Father,” said Aloysius, holding his hands behind his back. “There’s something I need to talk to you guys about.”

His parents stared up at him, sitting on their living room couch.

“Y-You’re not dying, are you?” said Touko as a hand flew up to her mouth.

“I... no,” said Aloysius, flinching his head back.

Byakuya inclined his head and said sternly, “Are you doing drugs?”

The bravado that Aloysius brought with him crumbled as their wide eyes digested him.

“No, I’m not,” said Aloysius, growing more flustered.

Touko slung her arms over her husband’s shoulders and borderline wailed, “Did you sign up for a game show where you’re locked into an old school building and forced into a killing game?”

Her bottom lip wobbled as distress rocked her body. Aloysius pouted.

“That’s not it at all,” huffed Aloysius.

Rather than let them keep guessing, Aloysius dipped his hand into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a burgundy velvet box small enough to fit in his palm. Byakuya and Touko leaned in, with the latter squeezing her husband’s shoulder, as Aloysius opened the box. It parted its jaws with a gentle click, and on its cushioned tongue perched a platinum, three stone engagement ring.

“It’s... an engagement ring!” Touko gasped, eyebrows jumping, and she slapped a hand against her cheek. Byakuya studied it closer.

“Round cut, one diamond flanked by two sapphires,” murmured Byakuya. He adjusted his glasses. “Impressive.”

“Yep,” replied Aloysius with a bob of his head, pleased with their reactions, then he glanced away, slightly bashful. “I picked it up from the store this morning.”

Touko and Byakuya fixed their eyes onto him at the same time.

“When are you going to propose?” asked Byakuya.

“How are you going to propose?” Touko chimed in. Aloysius rubbed his wrist sheepishly.

“That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you about it first,” he explained. “I plan on proposing to Ichika today but when I propose, I want it to be special. How did you propose to Mother, Father?”

Byakuya cupped his chin. Meanwhile, Touko clasped her hands together, beaming.

“I r-remember it so clearly!” she gushed. “We were in a restaurant, and...”

“Hold on,” interrupted Byakuya, flinging up a hand for silence. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Before I proposed to you, I purchased the ring. I know you have already done that, Aloysius, but I want to tell you my story from the start...”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I remember it well...”

***

On a warm morning in July where the temperature had yet to reach its peak, I arrived at a jewelry store with Naegi and Hagakure. The storefront was sleek black, with golden cursive written across the top that said the shop’s name. When we approached close enough, the double doors parted, granting us entrance. I headed the group, brimming confidence as I strode inside, and I heard the doors whoosh shut behind us.

Circular lights covered the grey ceiling hanging above a dark, polished flooring. Various photographs adorned the desaturated yellow walls, portraying smiling people I didn’t know. Though my gaze lingered longer on the photographs with closeups of rings, even those didn’t capture my attention for long. Of more interest were the glass cabinets either side of me, filled with mannequin shoulders and hands that boasted different jewelry.

Hagakure let out a low whistle and rested his hands onto his hips, looking around. “This place is mighty fancy.”

“Yeah,” agreed Naegi, his eyes flitting about nervously. I nudged up my glasses and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A low cluck escaped me.

“You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything,” I assured them. They both shot wary looks at each other.

We didn’t have to dawdle long before a man in a white-blue checkered shirt received us. I can’t remember much about his appearance. Your grandmother had a photographic memory, you know. Anyway...

“Good morning, gentlemen, how can I help you today?” asked the salesman. I stepped forward.

“I’m the one you have business with,” I told him, and when his attention narrowed onto me, I added, “I need an engagement ring.”

The salesman nodded. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it. He gave off that impression. “Can do. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” I told him. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky... It needs to be original but elegant.”

I could tell that the salesman hadn’t been listening by the glazed look in his eyes, but he nodded anyway.

“I’m sure I can help you with that,” said the salesman. He led us to one of the glass display cabinets and swept his hand across the top. “This brand has a lot of standout designs. Do any of these tickle your fancy?”

We peered in. A lot of engagement rings that I had seen prior to this were similar - silver band with a diamond, whether it be a princess cut, oval cut, cushion cut or another, and indeed, some rings shown to me then didn’t stand out from many others I had seen not just in passing, but during my research online.

To give credit, alongside these standard engagement rings were others that had a hint of originality to them: one had a blue topaz gemstone, another had a band that wasn’t plain smooth or encrusted with smaller gemstones, but more ornate, and a ring near it had a band resembling interlaced vines.

After some deliberation, I soon set my eyes on the ring I wanted to give to Touko. It -

***

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘soon’ here,” came a slightly muffled voice.

Byakuya, Touko and Aloysius turned sharply to where the voice originated from. Yasuhiro Hagakure stood in the doorway of their living room, straddling a toothbrush between his teeth. His dreads, despite being restrained to a ponytail, were still voluminous, framing his head like rays from the Sun. He popped the toothbrush out of his mouth and padded over.

“Hi, Uncle Hiro.” Aloysius lowered his shoulders now he knew who it was. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Neither did we,” said Byakuya, squinting.

“Family doesn’t need a reason or invitation to visit family, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro, and he quickly continued talking before anyone could answer him, wagging his toothbrush. “Anyway, Togami-chi, I overheard you telling little Aloysius-chi here about the time we went to buy an engagement ring of Touko-chi, and I couldn’t help noticing that some details might have been a bit fuzzy in your memory.”

Aloysius wasn’t little. He was in his twenties. But he said nothing, too curious.

Apparently, so was his father.

“Oh?” went Byakuya, cocking his head.

Yasuhiro hit himself on the chest with the hand holding the toothbrush. “Yep! But don’t worry, I remember the scene as clear as a bell! It went like this...”

***

So, Togami-chi called me and Naegi-chi the night before, asking us to come help him pick out an engagement ring. Being the good friend that I am, after I asked how much he was willing to pay for our services and he said nothing, I conceded and said I’d do it for free because we are such good friends, ‘right? The next day, we met at my place, and Togami-chi was anxiously going, “We need to go now! We need to go now!”

***

“I said that once,” Byakuya grouched. “And I wasn’t anxious. Just annoyed. You were taking too long to put your shoes on.”

“Whatever you say,” Yasuhiro said dismissively. He perched onto the armrest of the couch. “So...”

***

I drove us there in my car - I’ve still got old reliable, by the way - and the place really was as swanky as Togami-chi made it out to be. The sign above the doors was so elegant. You know, I could make a living as a person who writes shop names on signs, my penmanship is that neat, and I even said that. Naegi-chi wondered if there was even a job just for that and Togami-chi just gave us this blank look. I totally rendered him speechless', ‘right?

We walked in, and the entire place was amazing. Aloysius-chi, I can’t overstate how fancy the place was. I felt like a celebrity at a fancy dinner party. I remember whistling and saying how fancy the place was. Everything sparkled. Jewellery twinkled from within their glass cases, and light reflected off polished services. Totally ethereal.

Naegi-chi agreed with me. We couldn’t touch anything without risking millions in damages. Togami-chi was full of concern seeing us fidget, and he said, “You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything.”

As we waited to for someone to come over, his demeanour changed. Nerves got the better of him. He gritted his teeth, looking around for a salesperson. Not long after, this guy came over to greet us and let me tell you, he was... wow!

***

Yasuhiro thumped himself on the chest, his lips stretched out as he beamed widely.

***

So this guy. His hair was, I would say, mahogany brown and slightly wavy, hanging just past his shoulders, and his moustache and goatee were well-trimmed. Not a hair out of place. He gave us the warmest of smiles I’ve ever seen and waved to us with a friendly gleam in his eyes. A guy like that should have been working as a model or something.

Togami-chi wanted to see some jewelry, and the guy - Katsumi Suzuki, by the way - took us to one cabinet. Katsumi-chi listened with utmost patience as Togami-chi described the ring he sought.

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” rambled Togami-chi, one hand on his hip and one hand pointing a finger at the ceiling. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky. It needs to be original but elegant.”

Katsumi-chi nodded attentively and showed us some. Togami-chi then tucked his hands behind his back and bent forward, practically pressing his face against the glass as he ogled the rings in there.

***

“I didn't do it like that,” snapped Byakuya. Yasuhiro shrugged and carried on.

***

There was at least condensation splattered onto the glass. Anyway... Togami-chi had Katsumi-chi take out, one by one, basically the complete collection. Each time, Togami-chi adjusted his glasses and went cross-eyed as he examined the latest ring. And every time, he would click his tongue and pick out another one for Katsumi-chi to show him so he could do the same thing again.

We went through the entire collection before Togami-chi twitched his head back and sneered, “Is that all you have?”

When Togami-chi’s nervous, as you know, he gets cranky. He drummed his fingers against his arms and groped his glasses the whole time.

Katsumi-chi was all professional, full of smiles, and he clapped his hands together. In a breezy voice, he said, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me.”

No joke, we went around the entire store until Togami-chi finally decided on a ring.

***

Byakuya scowled. “I was not nervous. Now, be quiet. I’ll tell the rest.”

***

I was impatient. I didn’t leave this to the last minute, so I had no reason to be nervous. That man kept showing me rings that didn’t fit the image in my head, and I didn’t have all day. I had other things planned. Some of those rings I knew I could get online for far cheaper if I wanted... though, of course, I didn’t want those. He dared show me some alloy zircon rings that I could obtain elsewhere with the same amount of money one might find down the back of their sofa!

When he realised he risked losing a customer, he squeezed his hands together and begged, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me!”

My refusal to be ripped off or go away with something neither me nor Touko would be satisfied with paid off. In the end, I spotted three rings that I most approved of.

One was a silver band that didn’t connect the whole way. A round cut diamond punctuated one end and affixed on the other end was a diamond shaped into a flat flower.

For the second ring, the golden band looped twice, and on it was a round cut pink diamond gripped in golden claws, and around the claws, silver rose heads were embedded into the band.

Finally, the third ring, gold-banded, was studded with clear diamonds, and it contained a purple diamond surrounded by small golden leaves.

After a lot of thought, I went with the ring with the pink diamond. I even managed to buy it for a cheaper price than usual. Naegi and Hagakure had their faces buried in their hands, in awe of my debating skills the entire time.

***

“It was more like cringing than awe,” said Yasuhiro, wrinkling his nose. His face smoothed when he turned to Aloysius. “So anyway, Aloysius-chi, that’s how Togami-chi bought his engagement ring.”

Touko sighed happily, slumping against her husband’s side. Aloysius rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh... thanks,” he said with a lopsided smile. “That was an enjoyable story, but I’m more interested in how the actual proposal went down. That’s the part I’m at now.”

Byakuya lifted his chin, puffing out his chest.

“Hagakure, make us some coffee,” instructed Byakuya, pointing at Yasuhiro, who rose and shuffled into the kitchen. Then Byakuya folded his arms over his chest. “Aloysius, part of the reason we explained that part of our engagement story was to illustrate to you how much thought went into every single stage.”

Touko nodded fervently, squeezing her knees. “T-That’s right... but I think it’s my turn to tell the rest of the story.”

She sat back, raised her hands and laced her fingers together.

“I remember it so clearly...!” said Touko. Her gaze unfocused, and a toothy smile spread across her face. “Unbeknownst to me, Byakuya spent a long time planning the perfect time to propose to me...”

***

I bit on my thumbnail as I peered into my opened wardrobe, a purchase from a thrift shop. It didn’t contain enough clothes to fill the entire thing. Half of the contents consisted of work clothes, plain blouses and long skirts of the muted colours with dark purple being the most colourful of the lot. The other half offered more variety, like a canary yellow dress with a low neckline, allowing for me to wear a frilly white blouse underneath.

Still. Nothing flashy. I held my breath as I lifted the hanger off the rail and pulled out the yellow dress. It swayed a bit before stilling.

“That’s way too casual!” groaned Komaru, standing off to my side. Even after so long, I can remember her fists balled beneath her chin, her chibi head too big for her body.

Her sudden vocalisation sent a shock wave ripping through my body that made me twitch. I clenched the hanger tighter with both hands and pressed it against myself.

“I was just checking it,” I replied, and once my heartbeat returned to normal, I put the hanger back on the rail. With my hands free, I curled my fingers into my palms and knocked my knuckles together. “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

For example, though I knew we were going to a restaurant, what if we decided to do something else afterwards? It would be dinnertime, leaving the rest of the night available for us to fill. We could go on a walk, or spend the night together at his apartment. Then I would have to wear something comfortable... and something easy to take off. Heheh... Ah! As I was saying, it could rain, or become cold, or too hot. There were so many factors to account for.

Komaru crossed her arms.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it will play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” Komaru pointed out. I whined.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!”

Honestly, I could have tugged on my hair with frustration. Komaru grabbed a hanger off the rail and waved it around.

“Fine. What about this one?” she asked.

I snatched it from her, and as I twisted my body from her, I protected it from her with myself as a shield.

“This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb,” I hissed.

The hanger in my hands held a sleeveless dress gifted to me by not just Komaru, but her brother too for my last birthday. It was knee-length and pale pink with red petals printed around the skirt, more condensed toward the bottom, like the petals were falling from above and joining the pile below. A black, translucent lace shawl attached to the dress hung from the shoulders to where the skirt of the dress began, matching the colour of the collar.

“It’s perfect!” Komaru announced. She propped her hands onto her hips. “You should tots wear it.”

Admittedly, I was hesitant, because the dress wasn’t exactly like what one would expect at a formal do. The pattern on it stood out, was very striking, but at the same time, it wasn’t casual. That was why I had yet to wear it - I didn’t know what sort of situation it was most appropriate for. Not around the house, but if I went somewhere fancy, people might think it was tacky. I stood there, biting my lip as I studied it.

“Come on, Touko-chan,” Komaru pleaded, clasping her hands together and shaking them.

She persisted, and in the end, I relented, putting it on. When I was done, Komaru uncovered her eyes and beamed.

“You look amazing!” Komaru cheered, throwing up her arms. My eyes narrowed. I grumbled, averting my gaze and trying not to smile.

Byakuya met me at the front gates of the school grounds. As soon as I saw him, I ran over. The weather indulged us that day. A clear blue sky stretched overhead, and the warm temperature didn’t oppress or cling too tightly. My heels clacked against the pavement, sounding like the crackling of fireworks. He scooped me into his arms, and I could have stayed against his chest forever. Tempting though that was, I receded, slightly winded. If I remained there, I wouldn’t be able to stare up and admire him, let alone go on our date.

“This dress isn’t tacky, is it?” I asked once I came out of his embrace. I pinched at the skirt.

“No,” he replied, studying it. “It has an interesting pattern.”

I let go of my dress and grinned wider.

As expected, Byakuya opted for a suit, dark green, consisting of a jacket with a waistcoat underneath and a shirt that was ever so slightly tinged pink. He was absolutely dashing, as always, and he took my hand as we slipped into the taxi.

On the ride there, I gently leaned against him, watching the urban scenery flit by through the window. We disembarked in the car park by the restaurant and walked inside together, gave our names and let a waiter lead us to our table. A candle flickered between us, encased in a clear orb. Our surroundings were all cheerful browns, some accented with other colours, like the green leaves of a plant or white tablecloth. Shortly after we were seated, we ordered drinks - red wine, I recall...

***

“It was a blend of grenache and syrah,” Byakuya interjected.

A grin exploded across her face. She grasped her hands tightly together.

***

Yes! That exactly. I remember how Byakuya raised his glass and announced a toast, and I couldn’t quell my smile as he clinked my glass against his. First, the pork gyoza arrived... They were divine. A crispy bottom and tender top encased juicy innards, shaped like crescent moons that could fit easily in one’s palm. Truly an amalgamation of textures. I p-picked up one with my chopsticks and offered it to Byakuya.

To my delight, he opened his mouth. I could see his teeth, and his cute pink tongue... I popped it into his mouth. Then he picked up a gyoza and offered it to me! My face heated up as I opened my mouth with an aah, and he slid his pork between my puckered lips...

***

The tables in the restaurant retreated in puffs of smoke, and when they cleared, the sleek brown furnishing had disappeared, revealing the living room’s white walls and a painting of Byakuya, Touko and a four year old who used to be Aloysius many years ago. In the painting, the streaks of silver that Byakuya’s hair had now weren’t visible, but other than a few less wrinkles, Aloysius’s parents hadn’t changed much. Those shadowy figures at the restaurant tables vanished, and the only people left were gathered around a couch that popped out of the carpet. No longer did they chatter - their voices became the rumble of distance traffic.

A low laugh rumbled from Touko. Her gaze clouded over.

When Touko didn’t continue speaking after a few seconds, Aloysius coughed, and Touko gave a start. Byakuya pursed his lips. Both were used to how Touko’s mind sometimes wandered. The smile on her face dripped off as she recollected herself. She wiggled, sitting up, and Aloysius waited for the rest of the story.

However, the next person to speak wasn’t her. Not either of them.

“Are you telling the story of when you got engaged?” piped up Komaru from behind the couch.

Touko squawked and bent over sharply. Aloysius’s shoulders twitched. Even Byakuya had jolted slightly and needed to adjust his glasses. That was definitely Komaru, olive eyes, brown hair and all. Komaru tilted her head to one side, eyebrows raised in confusion as both her hands rested on the top of the back of the couch.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me!” Touko said, hand over her heart and glaring over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you saw me come in,” said Komaru, wincing a little. She gave a small wave with one hand and directed a nod across the room. “I waved as I came in, and Hagakure-san waved back, so I thought you knew...”

Everyone looked at Yasuhiro, who stood near the doorway to the kitchen, carrying a tray of drinks. He tensed, then gave a small laugh and cupped the back of his head, keeping hold of the tray in his other hand.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the story!” he explained, showing a lot of teeth in his grin.

“How long have you been here for?” Byakuya asked, and when Aloysius turned to him, he saw that Byakuya had fixed his stare on Komaru.

“Enough to know what point we’re at,” Komaru said. She folded her arms over the top of the couch and leaned her weight into it. When Yasuhiro set down the tray of refreshments in front of them, she faced Aloysius and chirped, “Hey, let me tell you the next part. Otherwise we won’t ever get to the juicy parts. Touko-chan always gets caught up on the little details.”

A crease formed on Touko’s brow, darkening her features, and Touko opened her mouth to object, but before she could, Komaru started speaking anyway.

***

Okay, first off, I did not have a chibi body. Let’s make that clear. Just because I was the cute little sister type, doesn’t mean -

***

“I didn’t mean it literally, you pea brain,” grumbled Touko. Komaru put on a sulky pout, but Aloysius could tell that she wasn’t offended. Byakuya held in a sigh.

When one of Aloysius’s other aunts, Aoi, said those three could put on a comedy act together, she hadn’t been kidding. Yasuhiro smirked at them.

Aloysius raised his hands, facing his palms toward Komaru. “Um... can we get back to the story, please?”

Komaru wiped off her pouty look.

“All right,” she said, still slumped against the couch. She straightened.

***

We spent ages getting Touko-chan ready for her date. Like... hours. Now, though Touko-chan invited me over to help her get ready, I knew something she didn’t. The night before, Togami-san called to tell me about his plan to propose to Touko-chan at their next date.

***

“You then spent the next ten minutes quizzing me about it,” Byakuya remarked with an annoyed frown. Aloysius snorted.

Komaru, who had tapped her nose when she revealed her secret, lowered her hand. She peeled her body off the couch completely and parked her hands onto her hips.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

***

This way, I knew exactly what to do. I came over to her place after lunch and helped her prepare for what would be, unbeknownst to her, a life-changing experience. Touko-chan stewed over what to wear for almost forever, dithering nonstop at her wardrobe, and when she seemed like she planned to choose this plain yellow dress you might wear on a trip to the seaside, I couldn’t just stand there idly and nod, nod, nod to appease her. See, I knew how big a deal this would be to both of them. I needed to act, and fast.

“That’s way too casual!” I blurted, making Touko-chan jump.

“I was just checking it,” she replied defensively, but she returned the hanger to the rail. She fidgeted her hands, grimacing, and added, “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

Of course, I knew that. In fact, I knew more than her. This date was extra special. I couldn’t let her know that though. While I couldn’t let her be too casual, I couldn’t let her go extreme the other way.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it’s going to play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” I said, hoping that would keep her expectations high but not like, crazy high.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!” she replied shrilly.

Poor Touko-chan could get herself worked up over an anthill. To be honest, she still can. Don’t give me that look, Touko-chan! You know it’s true.

It was a good thing Togami-kun recruited me to make sure everything went according to his plan. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Touko-chan might even have turned up at the restaurant three days late. Remembering the dress I bought her for her birthday - with help from Makoto’s paycheck, I pulled it out of Touko’s wardrobe and showed it to her.

“What about this one?” I suggested.

Touko-chan already described it so I won’t bore everyone with the details, but it was a really pretty dress, let me emphasise that. The lace at the top was attached to a black collar and collars make almost every outfit seem just a bit smarter at the least, you know? I thought it would add a bit of oomph to her wardrobe. It’s so dreary otherwise... like she got all her outfits at a museum.

She screeched like a cat having its tail trodden on and tore the dress from my hands, shielding it with her body. “This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

I stuck out my chest. “It’s perfect. You should tots wear it.”

We bickered a bit but with my charm, I triumphed. Touko-chan sulked as I did her hair, tying it into a bun on top of her head. She has so much hair. The whole time, she kept checking her phone for messages or to keep track of the time. Anyway, as soon as she spotted Togami-san at the gates, she perked up and ran over to him. When she reached him, she stumbled over in her high heels, but Togami-san managed to catch her.

***

“You didn’t need to mention that part,” muttered Touko, hunching her shoulders. Komaru waggled her tongue at her.

***

What? It was cute! Thankfully, they avoided a night in a hospital room. I remember wishing I could be in a situation like that with someone. Not the hospital room thing! The thing that actually happened! It was just like from an anime.

They talked then held each other’s hands for a moment before getting into the taxi together, but of course, that’s not the end of the story. Togami-san had told me the name of the restaurant, and I couldn’t not be at my best friend’s engagement, so I roped in three of our friends to make sure it worked out perfectly. So me, Kyouko-chan, Aoi-chan and Kanon-chan got on our bicycles and -

***

“You what?” said Byakuya and Touko at the same time, and then, also in synchronization, they jerked their heads back. Komaru clasped her hands together and oozed a guilty smile.

Then, by herself, Touko said, seething, “I w-wondered how you all showed up so quickly when - ”

“Don’t spoil the story!” Komaru said loudly, flapping her hands.

Touko sank back into the couch moodily, letting Komaru continue. Byakuya draped his arm around Touko and rubbed her shoulder.

***

As I was saying, we got on our bicycles and made chase whilst ensuring neither of them realised we were keeping close tabs on them. Sometimes, we scattered, or took shortcuts through alleyways.

Togami-san told me he planned to propose after dessert, so we didn’t have to follow them into the building right away. In fact, it would have been better to wait until after they settled down, lowering their guards, so until then, the four of us popped into a local ice cream parlor and all had some ice cream in the meantime.

Then, after we finished, we thought we would check out a few stores before sneaking our way into the restaurant. Meals always take forever to come in those sorts of places, so I reckoned we had an hour minimum to spare. Kanon-chan wanted to see if the sports store stocked her baseball bat line - dedicated to her cousin, may Kuwata-san rest in peace - so we went there, and they had some, so we...

***

Touko held her head in her hands and fussed, “You were complaining about how I would never get to the ‘juicy’ parts, and now you’re going off on a tangent about your shopping trip. No one wants to hear about that.”

She shook her head, eyes downcast, baring her teeth.

“My Aloysius wants to hear about the suspense! The drama!” Touko insisted. “Not... Not what ice creams you got, or what you bought in a sports shop!”

Aloysius fixed his eyes on Komaru.

“Drama?” he repeated curiously. Komaru raised her fists with a moody expression.

“Fine! You want an exciting story, I’ll give you one,” she said.

***

So while Togami-san and Touko-chan were being really interesting eating heavily described food or whatever, full of metaphors and similes and junk, the rest of us were walking out of the arcade, Kyouko-chan holding a giant plush penguin in her arms that Aoi won for her, when we heard a huge BANG!

***

Komaru mimed explosions with her hands. Aloysius stared.

***

Out of nowhere. Bang! I nearly jumped out of my skin. The four of us all exchanged eyebrows-up looks, mouths hanging ajar, and then around us, people started yelling and running... At first, we didn’t understand what they were responding to, but then we noticed they were all yelling and running away from the area that contained the restaurant.

Within seconds, smoke started to bleed into the sky, as black as coal.

Okay, I know, I know. Black as coal? Hey, Touko-chan’s the writer here, not me. The smoke was thick and contaminated more and more of the sky as seconds sprinted past.

“What the hell was that?” asked Kanon-chan, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“It sounded like an explosion,” Aoi-chan said, hovering a hand nervously by her mouth.

As always, Kyouko-chan was ready.

“Come on,” she said in that quiet but firm voice of hers, gesturing with the arm not carrying her penguin toy, and the four of us hurried down the street, heading toward the source of the smoke.

Dodging past screaming civilians who either stumbled, cowered or both, my mind swam with possibilities of what could have caused such a scene. Had someone tried setting off a firework in the early evening? Into the velvety violet sky? Did a car veer and crash into a building, blowing out a cloud of dust not unlike something from an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine?

That was an old British children’s television show, Aloysius.

A little voice in the back of my head kept asking, ‘What if something happened at the restaurant?’ The screams and spluttering of footsteps helped drown it out, but my chest tightened like a fist clenched around it. No matter how much I screamed in my head, I couldn’t block that worry out completely.

When the restaurant slid into frame, it confirmed our suspicions. I froze, staring at the partially demolished restaurant. A scream got trapped in my throat. My eyes watered at the acidic stench of destruction.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #dr3 #makoto naegi #kyouko kirigiri #yasuhiro hagakure #komaru naegi #aoi asahina #fanfiction #togafukaweek #round robin

[flightfoot]

What's your favorite Rick Riordan series between Percy Jackson, The Kane Chronicles, Heroes of Olympus, Magnus Chase and Trials of Apollo? (or like, if you can't choose, what do you like about the series you've read?)

Trials of Apollo, no contest. 

I liked Percy Jackson a lot, it was VERY well done. Percy was hilarious and relatable, but also just super awesome, his dynamic with Annabeth was fun to read, along with his dynamic with Grover, the quests had a lot of entertaining encounters, and it had some well-executed themes that tied in with the overall conflict nicely, mostly about how parents’ and adults’ negligence and even abuse can harm their kids, the overall effects of that, and just... generally trying to get the parents to shape up, as well as the effects of not respecting others in general, like with how the minor gods and by extension, their children, are treated by the Olympians. It comes up with Percy’s relationships with both Gabe and Poseidon, and most of the campers’ relationships with their godly parents, and that’s a MAJOR cause behind the entire conflict, and one of the major things that Percy tries to make better at the end of the last book.

Kane Chronicles... it’s been awhile since I read it. I don’t remember it having as prevalent a theme as Percy Jackson did, though there was definitely social commentary on racism, with how Carter was sometimes treated, and with how people had trouble comprehending that Carter and Sadie were full siblings, since while both are mixed, Carter’s pretty dark-skinned, while Sadie looks White. It was more of a background thing though, not a major plot point. I liked the characters and the plot fine, they were entertaining, and it was good overall - but it’s not a series I’ve felt a pressing need to reread either. Only real complaint I have about it is the romances centering around Sadie. Her and Anubis were kinda cute, but it would’ve been a lot cuter if she was older than 12-13, and he wasn’t a 4000-year-old god who looked, acted, and was treated as a 16-year-old. And then the whole thing with making it a love triangle with Walt who’s ALSO 16 and Rick’s method of “solving” the love triangle... look honestly I just would’ve been a lot more ok with the romantic shenanigans there if Sadie wasn’t a middle-schooler throughout it. Overall still good though, I’d be down for an adaptation of it, but it’s one of the few cases where I hope something IS flat-out changed to make the romances more palatable.

Heroes of Olympus is where I originally fell off of the Riordanverse. There was just so long between books and I could barely remember what happened between them, and with most of the books being like parts of the same quest (especially books 3, 4, and 5), unless you were constantly refreshing your memory of them via fandom, they were hard to follow, especially with several main characters and different character dynamics to keep track of. When I went back and read the whole set of them though, getting back into the series, it was WAY better, since I could read them as a coherent whole. I could tell he was struggling to juggle all the characters, but I thought he did a fairly decent job of it for what it was. I ended up liking all the characters - ESPECIALLY Leo, I thought he was great and relatable and funny, but I also wanted to hug him - and while the quest could drag on a bit at times, there were some interesting parts there. And Percy and Annabeth’s journey through Tartarus was GREAT. 

The themes for Heroes Of Olympus overall were pretty much the same as with Percy Jackson, but with less emphasis I think. It was mostly just “the gods (mostly Zeus, really) are being crappy again, but this time we have enough support among ourselves to manage, except for when a god is technically required to defeat a Giant”. A lot more emphasis was placed on individual character arcs and circumstances, which I think was a good choice, since with so many main characters, they needed more concentrated character development in order to put them up to par with Percy and Annabeth. Plus it allowed Rick to still go into some different themes a bit, like racism with Hazel, trauma with Leo, insecurity with Frank, etc, in a way that felt natural and relevant. It helped that they were broken up into different books for their introductions, so not everything was dumped in at once.

The ending of Heroes of Olmypus... yeah the final battle with the GIants was lame as all hell, and honestly the quest ended up feeling a bit like busywork, but screw it, I did LOVE one part of the ending. The imagery of big, bad Gaia, who even Zeus is so scared of he just wants to hide away with his head in the ground, physically manifesting and being about to take everyone out, everyone losing hope... and then screaming as Festus appears and snatches her up into the sky as Leo gives a shit-eating grin and hurls fireballs at her while insulting her the whole time is just GREAT. I always giggle, and I honestly found it a lot more memorable than the Kronos fight, even if it was technically less epic. It seemed fitting for her to be taken out in such an embarrassing way, by the boy she’d personally taken the most from.

Magnus Chase... yeah that’s the only one I didn’t finish. Quick note: its been over a year since I tried it, so I’m operating off of memory here. I wanted to like it, and after reading through Heroes of Olympus (which i originally stopped reading after Mark of Athena) and Trials of Apollo, I was all hyped up for more Riordanverse... and was disappointed. The basic elements were there, and the writing itself wasn’t bad, but... well, I never really got attached to most of the characters this time, I didn’t find the quest very interesting, and... well, you see how I mentioned about the themes in the earlier reviews? I thought Rick bit off more than he could chew with Magnus Chase, at least with the first book. (I slogged through the first book, got a hundred pages into the second book to see whether Alex, who I’d heard a lot of hype about, could save it, thought Alex was only ok but not someone who saved the book, and called it quits). 

So in Magnus Chase, Rick went DEEP into the social commentary on a lot of disparate subjects, trying to really tackle homelessness, child abuse (because no duh, that’s pretty much a staple, I think the only of his series that DOESN’T have major themes around that is Kane Chronicles), Islamophobia, ableism, and... I’m having trouble thinking of the exact term for it, but Blitzen was heavily looked down upon and derided for wanting to make fashionable armor and just being into fashion in general, so... I think it’s supposed to commentary on making fun of people for having interests that are generally seen as feminine? I guess? I dunno, it was definitely social commentary on SOMETHING, but I think the dwarves having their own particular culture here hurt whatever Rick was trying to say, since social commentary is very much tied to the culture it’s in, and we only have a small taste of dwarven culture, at least in the first book. 

In any case, all these things are fine to do social commentary on, but when you’re trying to go in-depth and really address them, it helps if they’re more tied in with the overall conflict in the book, and if each issue has room to breathe. As it was, it kinda felt to me like the characters were being paraded from location to location to confront some different social issue. I just thought it was too much, too crammed into one book, and the overall conflict had pretty much nothing to do with that. Like, at the end of the book Rick tried to tie it together with some sort of “we’re a band of misfits” message, and... well, a message based on NOT fitting in with society, isn’t one that’s very satisfying or cohesive. And the individual issues, while there’s certainly cross-sectionality between, aren’t intrinsically linked, so... they just don’t mesh together very well. Not so many, all mashed into one book. Plus I just didn’t care for any of the gods, and the only characters I liked were Magnus and Sam. Blitz and Hearthstone... they were just sort of “there” for me.

I can see why people like Magnus Chase, and it’s not BAD by any means, but it just wasn’t for me. Maybe I’ll take another crack at it at some point, but I’m not super optimistic about it. As it was, I just ended up looking up the parts where Magnus met with Annabeth and read those.

Trials of Apollo though, I ADORE. Apollo was hilarious (along with the books in general), it had a pretty focused message about child abuse and abuse in general, along with how a privileged position can blind you from the travesties that are going on around you, or that you yourself cause, and I just thought the themes worked very well. Rick went more in-depth this time on the exact consequences of child abuse and the ways that a parent could abuse and manipulate their child, something that wasn’t covered as much in his earlier series, as those were more based around neglect. I’m a sucker for a good redemption arc, and I was really impressed with how it was kinda slipped in with Apollo. Like, he didn’t even know he NEEDED one, and the good guys weren’t especially pressing him on that point, it’s a realization he slowly came to over the course of several books. And you can clearly tell that he’s conceited and has issues, but isn’t actually malicious... and slowly the reader comes to the realization that he has hidden depths, that not even HE knew he had. It’s really interesting how he did some pretty bad things (or DIDN’T do, a lot of it has to do with inaction and just being uncaring), but he never comes off as being like, evil. He comes off as being an arrogant, narcissistic person at first, but then slowly finding out that beneath that is a lot of pain and trauma, and part of that persona he’s built up has been to deal with this. Watching him slowly change and grow and discover himself during the series, in a way he never had before... it’s just amazing to read. Also puts a nice cap on the Greco-Roman saga, in that the past two series had a heavy emphasis on how the gods didn’t care enough and had to have their hands forced a lot, and Apollo sort of acting as a stand-in for those other gods, showing that yes, they CAN change for the better - something that most of the gods, and even other immortals, didn’t think was possible, even as they did it.

Well that was super long. But yeah, I have strong feelings on the Riordanverse, and Trials of Apollo is far and away my favorite.

#ask #long post #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #kane chronicles #trials of apollo