#ch3 is basically lesbian rights (and wrongs)

[danganronpa96]

3

3…? Ah, clearly you meant chapter 3. Of course. Which one? Doesn’t matter I took the liberty of making a homage to both

[squidproquoclarice]

Fine, now that you mention it I do want commentary on ch3 of MAWAMS, you absolute menace. Also, this is hella good imagery even though it hurt me emotionally so props on that: “Suddenly the whole thing seemed to turn as one single nightmare, like a thaumatrope, that 19th century child’s toy, the disk with a bird on one side and a cage on the other. Spin it fast enough and the two pictures combined, the bird suddenly trapped in the cage.”

I…have only myself to blame for this.  Though oh shit, where do I even start.  Buckle your seatbelt because this will take a while.Since you mentioned it specifically: the thaumatrope image seemed too on the nose to not use at this point.  Lorena and Lucy, watching them die, watching them happy in love with someone else.  There’s no way it ever ends well for him with either of them, because he’ll only fail them, and he doesn’t deserve to be happy anyway.  It’s all just one big blur of pain, the bird captured and stuck in its cage.I debated skipping the scene where Denise and Garcia go see Lorena.  But it’s an important thing for him.  He’s waited for four years to see her alive again and he deserved that moment, painful as it is.  I deliberately wrote it as somewhat spare in some ways–he’s not focusing on how beautiful she is to him, or looking for too long at her kids to see how much they may resemble Iris, for example.  He’s doing his best to keep the emotions in the box and lock everything down tight.I had Lorena come over because Lorena Valaitis is tough and nobody’s damn fool and seeing this strange car and people staring at her house, she’s gonna take notice and confront them.  And honestly, because Flynn sort of needed more than to just spy on her walking her kids to the car.  This hurts like hell, but it also helps him make more peace with her situation.  And on a meta level, Lorena deserves some Goddamn screen time and a voice of her own rather than being simply a concept inspiring  Garcia’s emotions, because she’s a really great character to write.As to the house, it made sense for Lorena to live there now.  I’d written it as an inheritance from her grandparents that the Flynns used when they were stateside with Lorena’s family.  They lived primarily in Croatia, in Split, due to Garcia’s work as an Eastern Europe NSA asset, but as I wrote in the vodka confessions, they were planning to move to Baltimore permanently in the future.  So it’s a house Lorena loved.  Of course this Lorena whose life centers even more tightly around her hometown will still live there.I had the murders happen in Baltimore because it makes more sense for him to get to Brazil, especially with virtually no money and no resources, if he’s on the proper side of the Atlantic already, and from the look of the cemetery and some the names on other headstones in 1x06, they’re seemingly buried in America, not Croatia, which is what originally made me go for Lorena likely being American.  (I think the “wife” on Lorena’s headstone is an angry accusation by the Valaitises of oh look, it’s a wife and daughter taken too soon as more domestic violence statistics!)And it’s another good and bad thing for Garcia.  Seeing the house again for the first time since he ran from Rittenhouse is not easy.  But seeing it as a place where this didn’t happen, where Lorena’s family lives and it’s peaceful and good, will actually do him some good in the end.  But for now the cognitive dissonance is most definitely a mindfuck.  The fact Lorena  doesn’t seem to have even that “huh, do I know you?” moment both helps and hurts.  This is when he knows it’s truly over between them, because it never was, and he’s glad because it means she’s safe.  He probably figures Emma will never go after her because this is more or less a punitive peace treaty forced upon him on the Lorena and Iris issue.  Rittenhouse kills this Lorena, it’s game on again for him to change history to get both Iris and his Lorena back. Garcia being Garcia, he sees how happy and safe she seems and thinks about how she’s so much better off, how this is the life she should have had and he couldn’t fully give her.  At this point he’s basically Pushkin’s Ya vas lyubil as a giant sad Croatian and saying his goodbye to her, and it hurts but he’s OK with it because he’s convinced she’s better off than she ever was with him.  Because yes, Flynn has a few self-respect issues.Denise, in that moment, probably is concerned for him as a friend but seriously in awe of how he can control himself in this situation and flawlessly bluff his way through it without even a flicker of the devastation showing.  Because Garcia Flynn, albeit a Human Disaster, is also a Very Good Agent.  Seeing how the two of them readily play off each other shows Garcia a lot about the teamwork they have in this timeline where they don’t have all the bitterness and mistrust that they do in the original.  It’s weird, yes, but he’s grateful for it anyway.It would have been way too easy for Tim to be an asshole, or for them both to be Rittenhouse, and then Garcia has quote unquote the “right” to try to rescue Lorena from this, blah blah.  I didn’t want to go that route. Tim’s a good man, a good husband, and a good father.  They literally have never heard the name Rittenhouse, except maybe there’s some place in Philly named that?He’s seen Lorena and he knows he has to accept this.  But Lorena’s the easy part.  Iris is the hard one.  Denise drags him to her favorite cop bar in the ‘burbs between DC and Baltimore where she used to live, and given they’re now on the wrong side of town to easily head back to Gettysburg, and it was probably at least a half hour or forty-five minute drive to go specifically to that bar, she’s clearly spending some time and effort on this.  And he notices that.   It’s what you do with someone who’s been a partner on this years-long mission, who’s become a close friend.  You drag them to your favorite bar, buy them a beer, and just sit with them.  If they want to talk, they talk.  If they don’t, you just silently support.Side note: in this timeline, I do think Denise and Garcia have also bonded over her being a lesbian WOC born of immigrant parents and him being an immigrant, bi, and demi (though I don’t think he has the word to describe the latter–it’s maybe Lucy or maybe even Jiya that defines it eventually) and being in a profession that’s not always exactly the most friendly to non-white, non-straight, and non-native born.  And prior to noticing him pining for Lucy, she really was trying to think of a nice woman or man to set him up with.  ;) He’s trying to make peace with it so he can carry on, but he’s also kicking his own ass that he handed Emma that information because he so desperately needed an ally.  Though notice it doesn’t turn into paranoia: he doesn’t start to regard Denise with suspicion.So: Lorena is fine, but Iris is forever out of his reach.  He realizes his mother was wrong–you do have to find a way to let go, somehow, eventually.  There’s no hope for Iris.  The best he can do is not make himself a worse man trying to bring her back. But he’s struggling really hard to let go, and not feel like he’s failed her as a father. He’s got a clean slate, and Lorena’s happy, but he’ll have to live knowing he owes that to Emma.  Fine.  Rittenhouse is going to burn for this, and Emma especially, because as angry as he was in 2x07 at her betrayal, it is now 100% personal between them.  But Garcia being Garcia, and still so used to being alone and without support, he starts wandering back towards the Dark Side. That sort of cold steely rage we saw from him in season 1: Only the mission matters.  You don’t.  He’s good for killing things. All right then.  Bring it on.  He pushes himself through range clearance, and then when they get back to Gettysburg, he goes right to the punching bag to go push the injured shoulder exactly like Abby Kovac told him not to do.  Because he can’t be weak when the next mission happens.  And yeah, he’s got a few frustrations to work through right then and punches and kicks sound like a great idea.He couldn’t save Lorena or Iris.  Rufus died right in front of him.  He almost got killed himself, and he’s seeing that it was a very severe injury and he’s not 18 and able to just bounce right back from it.  And emotionally off balance as he is then, he stumbles onto the next part of it: he can’t be less than back to normal on the next mission, because he absolutely, positively, 100%, cannot fail Lucy.  He can’t lose her.  Can’t watch her die.  Realizes he almost did in Chinatown.He’s not quite at Sao Paulo levels of emotional breakdown, or season 1 levels of closed-off rage, but he’s definitely Not In A Good Place.  And he’s pushed himself so hard he’s exhausted and can’t even punch anymore.  And it’s then that Lucy shows up.  (Actually, she’d been standing there for a few minutes already trying to figure out how to handle this, and him backing off gave her the opening she needed.) And dammit, Lucy, your timing is impeccable because you’re just what’s needed here.  She came, because as much of a screwup as he thinks he is, somehow she does care.  He manages to calm down a little, enough to say he’ll go get cleaned up.  They’ll talk, and he’s hoping that somehow, she’ll say the right thing as she usually does, and show him a different way.  Denise tried, Jiya was sympathetic, but as usual, it’s really only Lucy who has that deep enough bond to get through to him when he’s on the edge of the void.

ANYWAY.  Anyone else want to join the Denny’s parking lot fight?

[professor-riddikulus]

Craigslist - Ch3

Summary: James and Sirius are looking for a roommate for their Los Angeles house - Remus has just moved from Dublin needs a place to rent while he goes to graduate school. One Craigslist ad later, the three of them find themselves living together and shit is bound to get complicated. Featuring trans Remus and the wonder of Wolfstar.

Author’s Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry to have left anyone in suspense. I could give you tons of excuses for why this chapter took so long to write (working three jobs, finally coming out to my parents etc) but there’s also just the fact that this one didn’t want to be written. There are a lot of voices in this chapter and they spent most of the time talking over one another in my head. Anyway, enjoy this mess of a chapter, in which Remus meets the other queers that make up this motley crew, everyone gets blisters from Ikea construction, and someone is pushed in the pool. I should also mention that Remus’ experience of his gender is based on my own gender journey™ and does not speak for every trans guy etc. etc. Onwards!

You can also read this story on Ao3 or FF.net :)

Lily E: So you want me to come over to the mansion for a party? Me: I told you, we're building furniture, it isn't like it's going to be a star-studded affair. Lily E: I don't know about that, James is going to be there right? Me: Yeah but Lily... Lily E: Okay okay. You want me to bring coffee? I'll pick up Mary on the way for some more backup. Me: Am I even breathing? Of course I want coffee. She's the one that I met at the department welcome party right? Lily E: Yeah. She lives like a block away from me so we see each other all the time. Me: I really liked her. Lily E: We'll see you at 2! :)

In the morning, I tiptoed downstairs before either James or Sirius woke up so that I had time to shower and get changed without having to put on my binder again on the way down. After cleaning up, I pushed my suitcases to the side of the pool house, trying to make room for the boxes of furniture that the Ikea guys would be bringing. Sirius and James said that we could build out on the patio so that we'd have more room and then we'd carry everything into my space to set it up. That way everyone could work and hang out in the same area. It only took a minute or so to get everything out of the way, so I wandered into the main house to watch TV and make coffee and hopefully have a few minutes of relaxation before the backyard was inundated with cardboard and spare screws.

Sirius was even awake before noon, if people were going to coming over, he would get up early (apparently 11:30 am was early for him) so that he had time to make sure his hair was washed, blow dryed, and presentable for the company. James assured me that this was normal for him, that it was part of his routine. I tried my utmost not to laugh at this but (unsurprisingly) did not succeed.

"I know, I know," James said, running a hand through that crazy hair of his, "Sirius is, well, he's a bit extra."

I raised my eyebrows and James folded, "Okay he's absolutely ridiculous. But he means well."

“What does it say about you that you’re his best mate?”

James shrugged, “That I have a heart of gold and can’t resist a basket-case?”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Very rude thing to say Lupin. And to think we took you in.”

“Took me in? I am paying rent you know, I’m not a lost puppy.”

James shrugged and busied himself pouring milk into his coffee.

I continued, "I mean Sirius does have really nice hair...both of you do. Actually I was wondering if it's a requirement for living in the house...?"

"Don't worry, your hair is passable enough for you to stay."

"You don't think I could use a new conditioner?"

James leaned against the counter of the kitchen, his long lanky body stretched out like a lazy cat. He was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the name of the NPR radio station that he worked for and a set of old sweatpants that looked like they’d been turned soft with over-wear. His glasses kept sliding down his nose a bit as he spoke and he hesitated, perhaps not sure whether to use the hand not holding his coffee mug to push them back up or to continuously muss up his own hair. He was, objectively, quite handsome in that annoying I’m-not-even-trying-this-is-how-I-woke-up fashion I never seemed to pull off. I tried not to blame this on him. "I mean I think maybe Sirius has some extra moroccan argan oil that you could borrow."

"What even is that?!"

"I honestly have no idea," James sipped from his coffee mug nonchalantly, "Something that Sirius puts in his hair once a week and then wraps it up in a towel so he looks exactly like some basic white girl who just got out of the spa."

"I'm really looking forward to seeing that."

"Ugh I don't know why. I can’t unsee it"

I pulled a shot from the espresso machine at the counter and grabbed some almond milk from the fridge. Once the coffee was made, I perched myself on one of the bar stools near the enormous kitchen island.

"So what time is the furniture coming?"

"Around 2 this afternoon. Did you guys get in contact with your friends?"

"Yeah Marlene and Dorcas are coming over around 3 after Dorcas finishes practice for the day."

"Practice?"

"She works for the Galaxy and she's there for their practices and stuff. Used to be a soccer player in college."

"They really didn't have to come over to build my furniture."

"Is this going to be a thing with you?" James looked smug, "You know, like you're always going to be saying that people don't have to do things for you?"

"What? I--"

"Anyway chances are Sirius is going to put the legs on the wrong side of your bed and fuck the whole thing up or something so don’t thank anyone just yet."

I grinned at him, "He does seem pretty confident about his building skills for someone that didn't even know Ikea existed."

James rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah well he's confident about everything isn't he?"

______

By two in the afternoon James and I had settled into comfortable silence, each tapping away on our computers while old 30 Rock episodes played in the background and we waited for the Ikea guys to arrive. Sirius emerged from upstairs in a cloud of steam and cologne. His hair was, after all the discussion between James and I, looking perfect -- like he had somehow managed to make it silky, smooth, shiny and healthy without making any effort at all. He actually flipped it as he descended the stairs and James rolled his eyes at his computer without even looking up.

“Sirius you’re the gayest fuck I’ve ever seen.”

Sirius laughed, “Watching a lot of gays fuck recently James?”

“Yeah right! Your friend Evans is coming over today right Remus?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “I don’t see why that’s relevant James.”

Sirius saw me and threw himself down on the couch next to me, I shook my head at him. "You smell nice."

"I know." The cheeky bastard winked at me.

James tapped out a text on his phone, "Don't compliment him Remus, he's already got more self-confidence than is normal for several people."

Sirius grinned, "Turns out I have enough talent for several people too so it actually works out perfectly."

"Talent," I said, "talent doing what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

I must have blushed bright red because James couldn't stop laughing.

“Can you fucking stop Sirius?! You’re going to give him a goddamn heart attack and we finally found someone sane to live in the pool house.”

I was going to protest this, I didn’t need James coming to my rescue and I’d be happy to put Sirius in his place myself, but before I had the chance to voice any of this the doorbell rang. Padfoot rocketed downstairs barking madly and Sirius threw himself over the back of the couch to run down the hall to the door as well. James, on the other hand, hadn’t moved at all, hadn’t even looked up from his phone screen.

"LESBIANS! THE LESBIANS ARE HERE," Sirius bellowed.

For a moment I wondered whether I should meet Marlene and Dorcas at the door or stay put but by the time I had decided to get up, Sirius' loud voice echoed down the hall "What the actual fuck? You're not our lesbians."

"No, we're not anyone's lesbians. Sirius this is Mary, Mary this is Remus’ mental new roommate. What have you done with Remus? Did you kill him already?"

Lily Evans appeared in the doorway to the hall looking as if she’d somehow captured the sunset, her long red hair shining, her bright green eyes flashing and in her hands, two large cups of coffee. I'd never seen anything more beautiful. She set her bag down on the kitchen island and as she did, her eyes fell on the La Marzocco in the corner.

"You didn't tell me that you had an espresso machine here Remus."

Oh, she was angry. "I mean, erm, I didn’t realized that I did until this morning."

"So why did I stop and get coffee?"

"Because, you love me and value our friendship?"

She pushed the cup into my hand a bit roughly but laughed anyway, "God knows why I do. You're nothing but trouble."

Mary walked into the room closely followed by Sirius, who was already trading hair-care secrets with her. She was shorter than Lily by a bit, with a heart shaped face, large soft eyes, and short dark hair with straight bangs. We’d met once before at the departmental mixer that was meant to entice visiting prospective students to attend USC. Since we both studied film, Lily had gotten us talking and we’d spent the better part of the party debating the best superhero movies, the idiocy of colorblind casting, and whether or not live-action movie remakes of anime were always doomed to fail. Today she was wearing an oversized button down shirt and leggings and smiling from ear to ear as she humored Sirius. "Yeah,” he said, “but I use the coconut oil in the summer when it gets hotter 'cause my hair tends to get more brittle around then."

Mary smiled at me, "Hey Remus."

I hugged her, she smelled like rosewater, "Thanks for coming. I know this isn't probably the most exciting social event that you've ever been invited to."

Mary shrugged, "Well it was either this or read and annotate another book of theory that I should have started much much earlier in the summer so, at least building furniture includes good company and free food.”

“Yeah,” Sirius snapped in front of James’ eyes, since he was unabashedly staring at Lily, “James order that pizza.”

The doorbell rang again.

I let the Ikea guys around the back and had them stack all the boxes on the patio. I tipped them and by the time they’d left and I was back in the kitchen, everyone was grouped around the kitchen island looking over the pizza menu and arguing about the perfect toppings.

“No dumbass,” James was saying, “Dorcas is a vegetarian.”

Sirius giggled, and said in a whisper, “vag-itarian.”

Lily knocked him over the head with an open hand.

“What?! I’m allowed to say that. She’s my lesbian.”

“Pretty sure that I’m Dorcas’ lesbian, dog-breath.” A girl I assumed was Marlene was leaning against the back sliding door that I had left open. She had big blue eyes, black eyeliner so sharp that it was borderline dangerous, and blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders and in gentle waves. She was willowy with long arms and legs and pale skin that made her bright red lipstick stand out even more. She was dressed in a old Ramones t-shirt that was once black but was now a faded grey and was tucked into high-waisted black jeans. My immediate impression was of a girl that had spent her whole life being the hot one, and with an entrance like this one, she might give Sirius a run for his money to win the award for most dramatic.

Behind her stood another girl with dark skin and incredibly curly hair that was shaved on the right side. She was a bit taller, with a gold septum piercing and a Los Angeles Galaxy t-shirt. She had a wide nose with a smattering of freckles across it and her cheeks, even a few dotted her full lips. She wrapped an arm around Marlene’s waist and smiled down at her, and when she spoke her voice was measured and reassuring, “You know we could have just come through the front door.”

“Sure,” Marlene smirked, “but look at their faces.”

Sirius ran over and grabbed Marlene, picking her up and spinning her around before she smacked him enough times that he put her down. Then he put his head between her breasts and she pushed him away.

“You fucking asshole,” she laughed, “You can’t get enough huh?”

Sirius turned to Dorcas as James greeted Marlene with a normal hug.

“You better be giving her so many orgasms.”

Dorcas raised her eyebrows, sizing up Sirius who was almost the same height as she was, “More than you did you big queer.”

James went around the room and introduced everyone, “Marlene, Dorcas this is Lily and Mary and that over there is Remus Lupin our new roommate and the one who is forcing us into slave labor this afternoon.”

I waved a bit half-heartedly. If I’m totally honest, I sometimes get a bit awkward around lesbians. It’s not a misogynist thing, they just tend to be able to spot gender-nonconformity better than gay guys or heteros. I think it must have something to do with the fact that butches are so accepted as a part of lesbian culture in the way that really femmey gay guys can sometimes be on the outs. It doesn’t really matter, I guess I’m just always nervous that they’re going to say something, out me in a way that will make other people notice what they may have overlooked before. Plus, I did spend quite a bit of time as a butch before I began transitioning. Sometimes I really miss being a part of that family.

Dorcas nodded at me, “Nice to meet you Remus. I hope these idiots haven’t given you too much trouble.”

“No,” I smiled, “But I’m sure they will.”

Marlene squealed, “Oh my god listen to that accent.” She crossed the distance between us in two short steps and just as I went to stick out my hand she swept me into a bone-crushing hug. I panicked and patted her awkwardly on the back of the shoulder. She smelled fresh, like clean laundry and lavender and some sharp citrus fruit that put me in mind of summer and elaborately fruity mixed drinks that disguised the amount of alcohol contained within. She let me go eventually, but only as far as her outstretched arms reached, which she had on my shoulders. She looked over at Dorcas and grinned.

“He’s fucking adorable. Can we keep him?”

Sirius laughed a booming bark of a laugh that sounded remarkably like Padfoot, “You can’t have him Marls, he’s mine...I mean you know, ours.”

A chorus of “Ohhhhhhhh” went up from James and Marlene and James winked obscenely at me while nudging Lily in the ribs (she looked less than thrilled about this, rubbing the spot in her side where James’ elbow had hit and looking put out). I extracted myself from Marlene just as Dorcas began to lead a chant of “Freudian slip, Freudian slip!” at Sirius. For the first time in the few days that I met him, embarrassment flit briefly across his face before he expertly replaced it with sassy defiance (apparently his go-to look).

“He should be so lucky,” Sirius gestured to his body, “to have all of this. But you know I’m a free spirit, uncagable, unflappable, uncomparable.”

“Incomparable,” Mary offered, “you can’t just make up words.”

“Oh Mary darling,” Marlene offered, “Sirius does whatever the heck he wants, literally all the time.”

“And the world, is better off for it.” Sirius supplied, “Now it seems to me that we’re all just fucking staring at one another when we should be staring at one another while holding booze. James, order the damn pizza already.”

James got on the phone, muttering something about having Sirius’ credit card number memorized and once we were all supplied with beer or some ridiculously strong mixed drinks that Sirius had whipped up we trooped out to the backyard and divided the boxes up so that a group of two or three would tackle each piece of furniture. I smiled, sipping my beer, and thought vaguely that mixing alcohol and flat-pack furniture construction may not have been the smartest idea. If I had any luck, most of the bigger items would be finished before anyone got so intoxicated that they couldn’t decipher the instructions (which, after all, only had pictures and not written steps). Sirius and Lily started putting together the bed, James sat with Dorcas and Mary and began on the dresser and Marlene stood next to me staring at the pile in between large gulps of something with pineapple and rum in it.

“I should warn you,” Marlene stressed, “I consider myself far too beautiful to work up a sweat.” She laughed as she said it, and the way she cocked her head reminded me forcefully of the same gesture Sirius had made a few times already. The two of them really were a dynamic duo. It was as if the same being had been split into two queer people, one dark and the other light -- the yin and yang of overconfidence, stunning looks, and that weird borderland between charming and insufferable. I wasn’t sure whether she was being funny or trying to get out of helping or both? The comment disarmed me, and I didn’t exactly know how to answer this pronouncement. I settled for shuffling a bit back and forth from one foot to the other.

“Erm…”

She must have taken pity on me, “I am just kidding! Jesus you are new aren’t you? Okay, I’ll do my best to be a reasonable human for a bit and we can bring you into the kiddie pool one foot at a time.”

I must have looked as confused as I felt at this.

“We’re kind of a weird but dangerous gang,” she shrugged, looking out at an already squabbling Lily and Sirius, “it’d probably best if you don’t dive head first into it or you’ll catch the strange.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured her, “I’m good with strange.”

“Then you’re going to fit right in here. Now pick a box and let’s get all this heavy lifting over so we can drink for real.”

The building went largely without major incident. Sirius did accidently try to hammer his own thumb and at one point James put the legs on the wrong side of the desk but no one (either human or furniture) was seriously maimed or broken which was a triumph considering. It only took two hours to put together everything but the side tables and the shelves, which I was planning to do in front of the TV the next day. The back patio was scattered with discarded instructions, the odd screw or plastic piece that had seemed suspiciously extra, and piles upon piles of now empty cardboard boxes. The pizza was passed around, second and then third drinks were poured, and everyone was nicely buzzed by the time the sun had started to creep down into the treeline and the warm summer breeze had cooled into a balmy and pleasant evening whisper.

Marlene and Dorcas turned out to be hilarious company. They struck a balance, Marlene flitting around and seemingly unable to stay on either one task or one topic for more than a few minutes at a time, Dorcas followed after, redirecting Marlene, teasing her, and largely keeping her as focused as possible. Marlene had a habit of leaning back against Dorcas whenever they stood near one another, so that Dorcas would wrap her arms around Marlene’s waist and this seemed to encapsulate their relationship as I observed it. Dorcas, a bit quieter, nevertheless was whip-sharp, with a sense of sarcasm that lashed hilariously but not maliciously out at James, Sirius, and Marlene in turn.

Sirius and Marlene, on the other hand, only seemed to dial one another up. They were waging a noisy and over-the-top war of the wills, trying to out-do one another in ridiculousness and shock value, which led to overly detailed jokes and jibes about one another's’ sex lives, fancifully extrapolated stories that got grander and more unbelievable as they were told, and at several points, all-out physical play-fighting which left both of them complaining about the other’s attacks on their hair.

I sat on the edge of the pool, jeans rolled up and toes swirling through the water. Lily was next to me, working on the same something that Marlene had been drinking earlier. I gathered that this pineapple concoction was one of Sirius’ specialties and accordingly, I had decided to stick with beer. Lily, on the other hand, was on either her fourth drink and I was about to suggest that she perhaps have a water or two before Sirius poured anything else for her to drink. However, he looked awfully busy -- he, Dorcas and James were trying to arrange the cardboard boxes into a fort, standing the long ones up and using the shorter ones as building blocks or mock furniture. Marlene was of course sabotaging the building, sneaking from side to side kicking over boxes while trying to avoid being swept up into the arms of her girlfriend.

Mary sat down on my other side, adding her feet to the water and gripping the edge of the pool with her hands. Lily looked up and smiled at her.

“Having fun Mary? You’re awfully quiet.”

Mary rolled her eyes, “I’m not sure how anyone could get much of a word in with those four around.”

“Yeah,” I agreed fondly, “they are a bit more than I’m used to.”

“The decibel level alone,” she stated, but with more edge to her voice, “it’s like looking after my three nephews, I’m exhausted. I don’t think I could ever live here if they’re like this all the time.”

Lily laughed, a golden sound that hung in the air before her, causing James to momentarily look away from his cardboard construction like a dog catching sight of a squirrel, “They are literally building a fort with boxes so perhaps the comparison isn’t entirely unfair.”

“I kind of like it,” I shrugged, “I can just sort of observe. Anyway, it’s nice that they don’t care about looking like utter pillocks. I miss being that care free.”

Lily nodded but Mary looked at me strangely, “But you’re so mature. I mean, I…” she blushed but soldiered on, “you seem like the kind of guy who prefers um...I don’t know...different company. More grown-up or intellectual company.”

Lily intervened, “I think Mary means you seem like an old soul.”

Mary nodded quickly, “Yeah, that’s one of the things I like most about you.”

This struck me as odd considering Mary and I hadn’t spent much time together at all. Sure, we’d got on well at the departmental event, but I didn’t think we’d spent enough time together for her to determine the age of my soul at all, or to make a list of things that she liked about me, marking ‘old soul’ as the most liked. I didn’t like what was happening here. She seemed to have decided that in some way she or I or maybe the both of us were above Sirius, James, Dorcas and Marlene. Why? Because they were loud and exuberant? I gazed back over at their makeshift fort, which they were now trying to get a roof on without knocking over the walls. Marlene had apparently given up her attack and was stretched out on one of the lounge chairs shouting directions which Sirius and James were studiously ignoring. Dorcas had gotten ahold of a fat marker and was drawing windows on the outside of the walls.

I smiled at Mary but inside I was feeling the beginnings of anger bubbling up in my gut. “Just because they’re loud and like to have a bit of a craic doesn’t mean they’re un-intellectual,” I snapped at her and she looked taken aback, “perhaps you should lighten up a bit Mary. It’s a drinking session not a seminar.”

I stood and withdrew my feet from the pool, walking away while trying to avoid looking back at what I’m sure would be Mary’s angry face. Where did she get off insulting my new roommates, my new friends? I was feeling oddly protective of these fools and their cardboard house and their stupid fruity drinks. Something in her undertone, something in the intellectual snobbery that turned me off from many of the graduate students I’d met in the past, something about a cis straight woman sneering down her nose at a group of queers. I knew that I was probably overreacting, it was probably partially the beer making my anger spike higher than it normally would have (I definitely felt it rush to my head as I stood from my place on the edge of the pool). But these weirdos had given me a place to live, had already made me feel at home, accepted, one of the gang as Marlene put it.

It was a short skip from thinking you’re smarter than someone to thinking you’re better than them. And another small jump to thinking you know what’s right for them. I shook my head attempting to clear it. Poor Lily, she was going to have to do some damage control with Mary but, I reminded myself, she’d been the one to bring her in the first place. I walked over to James, who had finally got the roof to stay and was standing back from the fort admiring his handiwork.

“Well done mate.” I grinned at him, forcing myself to leave the unpleasantness of Mary’s jugement behind, “Now I’ll have somewhere to live for that rent I’m paying you.”

“Are you kidding Lupin? You couldn’t afford this place. We’re going to be listing this masterpiece on Craigslist for double what you’re paying for that hovel of a pool-house.”

Sirius poked his head out from the inside of the fort, his hair sticking out of its bun at all angles, “Bullshit! There’s no way I’m letting anyone else live here! This is my damn castle. I just finished the throne for christsakes.”

“Permission to enter, your highness?” I bowed low.

Marlene laughed from her chair and hollered at me, “I imagine he’s been asked that a few hundred times before!”

Sirius shot her a scathing look before nodding at me in mock solemnity and affecting an over-the-top British accent that likely would have sent Lily into a rage, “Permission granted my good sir, do watch your head.”

The inside of the fort was a bit stuffy and unsurprisingly smelled overwhelmingly of slightly damp cardboard as a few of the boxes had drinks or pool water splashed upon them in the construction of the fort. It was dark and in the fading sunset light filtering in from outside I could just make out the stack of smaller boxes that Sirius had arranged to create a kind of weird chair. It didn’t look like it was going to support his weight but it was decorated with some of the leftover hardware from the building which caught the light and glinted silver.

“Allow me,” Sirius continued in his accent, “to give you the royal tour.”

“Carry on, my liege.” I laughed.

“Over here,” he gestured to one corner of the fort, “you’ll find the grand reception hall where the lords and ladies gather to shower their king with gifts, affection and compliments.”

“As well they should, your highness,” I supplied, trying to suppress a giggle.

“And here is of course, the royal throne. Perfectly constructed to flatter the royal behind, which is of course the king’s most valuable asset.”

“Asset?” I laughed, breaking character, “Really?!”

“Don’t sass me Lupin.” Sirius barked, “a royal must be both mentally and physically a paragon of beauty and class.”

“Wait but I thought you said you were the king?”

Sirius looked scandalized, and clutched a hand to his chest. “You wound me, mortally. How dare you speak such to your king?!”

“Well I don’t know how you got to be king, I didn’t vote for you.”

“TREASON.” Sirius yelled, “TREASONOUS SLIME. GUARDS!”

Dorcas’ head looked around the side of the entrance to the fort.

“What are you screaming about you fuckwad?”

“THIS PEASANT HAS DARED TO QUESTION MY ROYAL LEGITIMACY!” Sirius pointed at me accusingly and I saw a flash of mischief in Dorcas’ eye that I didn’t like the look of, “OFF WITH HIS HEAD CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.”

Dorcas looked mock-seriously at me, “Did you, sir, question the legitimacy of our lord and savior, king of the box-fort and royal jackass, Sirius Alastair Gerald George Harold Anthony Black the Third of his name?!” I marveled that she was able to come up with so many middle names at the drop of a hat and then briefly wondered whether Sirius didn’t actually have several middle names. Maybe that was his actual name? Impossible.

“I did!” I pronounced defiantly, “And I shall continue to do so! Liberty for the people!” I thrust my fist into the air at the same time James pushed one of the walls in on me, resulting in a mess of cardboard and limbs. Somehow in the confusion, James and Dorcas managed to each grab one of my arms, shouting things like “Traitor!” and “Death to the rebellion!” and “Long live King Sirius!” I found myself extracted from the remains of cardboard castle and frog-marched to the edge of the pool. It only then dawned on me that perhaps I should have thought through my rebellion before committing to the cause. But it was too late to turn back now.

“End the monarchy!” I cried, trying to push back against my captors and get a foothold on the slippery wet edge of the pool, “We shall not be enslaved by tyrants!” I caught sight of Lily and Mary, still sitting where I had left them, both looking incredulous and confused at the pandemonium issuing from our end of the pool. Dorcas laughed until she was tearing up and Marlene shouted from her place behind us, “END HIM MY KING!”

James turned, struggling to keep a hold on my right arm and looked straight at Sirius. I twisted around to look at him too. He was drawn up to his full height, having extracted himself from the ruins of his cardboard castle and he looked down his nose at me in mock-disgust, his haughty cheekbones and strong brow making him momentarily look truly like the royalty he was pretending to be and he extended his thumb sideways before rotating it to point down. It was only a half a second later that I was hitting the surface of the water, the screams of triumph echoing behind me as Marlene, Dorcas, and James yelled “LONG LIVE THE KING.”

At least, I thought, emerging to the surface sopping and laughing so hard I didn’t think I’d be able to stay above the surface of the water, at least Mary had taken the brunt of the splash.

[color-in-your-hands]

#10 for the all pairings in ciyh

You just go right for the heartparts, don’t you, anon?10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?Strap in for a doozy, kids.

I’m gonna start with the minor side pairings that don’t effect the overarching plot or character development, because I’m nothing if not persnickety and ineffectually comprehensive.Fletcher and Archer: Because I could, and so I did.  Where else was I supposed to wedge my favoritest OC and his inveterate life partner (also an OC, belonging to my good good very best friend @archer-and-anders​) and their college au incarnations into my college au fanfic?  Why, as fellow students on the periphery of the protagonists’ social circles, of course!  They weren’t made together or to be together, but they are meant to be together forever, across any and all universes.  It’s just how it is, and I don’t make the rules.Declan and Ashley: I latched on to his POV chapter in TRK mentioning her as a present-tense girlfriend and not a past-tense one, and I want them to be the cool, sexy, affably morally neutral Greenmantles 2.0 with matching Audis and a Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibe.  Also, my girl Ashley?  She’s rad and Declan doesn’t really deserve her because she’s so much cooler than he is.Maura and Calla: BLUE’S MOMS.  Because how could I not, when there’s no Artemus to worry about, a Persephone in the mix, or a Mr. Gray to pair Maura off with?  Of course I went the “they’re in lesbians” route!  If things focused more on the rest of the group and not just on Adam and Ronan, they’d make appearances, but as things stand right now, they’re not slated to turn up at all, which I hope to rectify in The Rewrite.

On to the played-with and past-tense pairings.  Funnily enough, most of these involve Adam because of a very particular headcanon I have for him and am deeply attached to.Ronan and Noah:  Oh, Noah, my dear sweet boy, he just made his way around the whole group, didn’t he?  This is actually only implied in passing once in Ch3 and never mentioned again, and it was from before I realized how potentially icky that was depending on when exactly it happened, since that chapter has Noah saying he’s 28 and Ronan implying that "{Noah]’s girlfriend and all of [Noah]’s friends are 21″, which is wrong, because Gansey turns 21 at some point between Ch18 and Ch20, which is almost two months later.  I’m going on record here and now to say that, no, this didn’t actually happen and this passing mention of it is an instance of Early Installment Weirdness that will be nixed in The Rewrite.  Adam and Tad: This wasn’t supposed to become quite the thing it did in my mind; I threw Tad into CiYH for Drama caused by Ronan’s jealous streak and his possessiveness of Adam, and I ended up getting really attached to my version of Tad, perhaps a little wrongheadedly.  I intended to push this from “played with” into “actually happens” to fuel Ronan and Adam fighting for much longer than they did, which I also decided against about... two chapters ago.  Instead I opted to have Ronan continue to be jealous over something that was never going to happen because it seemed in character for him.  Adam and Brandy: Okay.  So.  This plays into the aforementioned headcanon I have for Adam but also has some bearing on the plot, so I can’t get to into the details on this one (especially since Brandy is a present-tense character as of Ch24).  I can say this, though, because it relates to Adam’s relationship with Blue: I didn’t want him to be as inexperienced as Blue, as in a virgin who’d never been kissed before they’d started dating each other.  So I had to give Adam an ex-girlfriend he’d been physically intimate with, who was (probably) slightly more experienced than he was back in high school.  Ronan and Kavinsky: Contrary to what most people might think, I didn’t include this oairing because I wanted to write Rovinsky into CiYH.  I knew going into this project that I wanted to write Kavinsky a particular way, and that I was writing Ronan a particular way, and that I was walking a very fine line between making their backstory work and making it seem out of character for Ronan.  In my mind, to play out the full extent of Ronan’s teenage trauma without magic and without his friends (save Gansey, who at the time lived hundreds of miles away) but with the grim reality and formative nature Niall’s death had on him intact, I needed to include the only other character he’d known in high school: Kavinsky.  How could I play out Ronan’s character (again, without magic) and Kavinsky the way I intended to portray him (also without magic) as realistically as possible, despite the very murky waters I’d be treading the entire time?  By giving them an intimate history with each other, even though I was basically writing Rovinsky into CiYH.Adam and Blue: This one’s only a little bit self-serving, because I actually really like them paired together and I wanted them to have dated and boned prior to the start of CiYH.  I had that in mind when I wrote the first chapter, and it didn’t even come up back then.  Funny how that happens.   But yeah, I had a soft spot for Adam being Blue’s first in most of the major ways and I projected a lot of my relationship frustrations and drama onto them because catharsis (and they’re the only pairing I could actually do that with and have it make sense).

And now, for the actual factual present-tense pairings you’re all here for.Blue and Gansey:  I guess I have to out myself here as being a Bluesey hater.  “Hater” is probably way too strong a word, because I’m honestly more ambivalent to it.  It’s boring to me.   But I had to include it because I had to, right?  Right, because this is a TRC fic.  That’s pretty much it, and it’s cute, I guess, but.   Yeah.  Fortunately it developed into something I could get behind, to an extent, because they’re both also paired off with characters I think they’re both better suited for than each other.Gansey and Henry: Yes, this is canon!  No, I have not made that clear in anything I’ve written!  Yes, that is horrible of me and I fully acknowledge that and plan to rectify it in The Rewrite!  Yes, it’s actually happening throughout CiYH, yes other characters do know about it, and yes Henry is actually around more often than he is not.  This is all a major failing on my part because I never developed a good voice for him (or Gansey, for that matter) and, as I’ve said before, I honestly had no idea I’d ever get to a point where I’d realize it was a major misstep to not include him from the get, because I started CiYH well before TRK came out and I’d initially been hesitant to heavily feature a character we knew nothing about (this is based on past experiences I’ve had in fandoms, with getting attached to characters pre-release and being hugely disappointed by them in canon).  This is my single highest priority for The Rewrite, and I can’t emphasize that enough.Blue and Noah:  MY OTEEP.  I’m infinity-percent serious when I say that, I really am.  I’ve said it a million times before, but I ship Blue and Noah together harder than I think I’ve ever shipped literally anything since--I admit these freely and fly these particular fandom colors proudly--Shakarian and Handers.  Part of this is projecting, part of this is because my version of Noah is, in fact, so compelling to me that I’m planning on giving him a spin-off of his own that delves into his backstory and follows his personal arc as it develops parallel to CiYH.  I can’t wait because I’ll get to delve so much more into this relationship.  Blue, Noah, and Gansey: This is the amalgam of my gripes with Bluesey and my undying love for Blue/Noah.  You’ve gotta love that happy, comfortable, casual polyamory.  This is something I’m really looking forward to exploring more in both the Noah Spin-Off and The Rewrite, especially since I’ve dedicated considerable thought to how exactly this relationship comes to be, how it works (i.e. Blue’s time with both of them, their time as a trio, Noah and Gansey’s time as roommates/friends, Gansey’s time with Henry), and how Noah and Gansey (who don’t exist as a pairing without Blue’s influence) work.  It’s easy in a way Adam and Ronan aren’t, despite how complicated and difficult it looks on the surface, but there’s still a lot of room for Drama, because there’s a lot of conflicting dynamics insofar as their three distinct cultures and family lives are concerned, and also lulz for that same exact reason.  Adam and Ronan: Because, at the end of the day, I wanted to write these angry, sharp-edged handsome dudes being in messy, complicated, aesthetically pleasing love with each other.   And boning down, a lot, with vigor and enthusiasm.  Really.  That’s it.  It’s just complicated in context, but the reality is actually that simple.