#joplittle fic

[victorclays]

[ @fitzjamesbulletwound posted a gif of Edward Little.... breathing.... and this happened... as is... natural and normal and I'm totally find and good and sane about it. Anyway, have some panic attack riddled Ned and calm and collected Thomas. As a treat! 🧡🧡🧡🧡 also there is a bittersweet ending. I did not let them live. 💔 ]

Breathless

The first time it happens is the night David Young dies. He'd been dressing down for the night when he heard a door slam, and stumbling footsteps. His hands freeze on his waistband, he listens, thinks he hears someone heading below decks, clumsily.

He tugs his sweater back over his head, peaks out his own door, sees nothing, and walks cautiously out into the dark. He climbs down himself, further into darkness, his steps sure and quiet.

He hears the shakey breathing first, his heart fluttering at the thought of what he may be walking in on.

But then hears the thud, like someone punching a wall, and steps around the corner to find Lieutenant Little, in just his shirt and trousers, leaning against the wall. He looks thin like this, small, even. His chest rising and falling heavily, his head leaned back, clearly the thing that had slammed into the wall.

His hands are clenched at his sides, his lip wobbles and then he's gasping and pitching forward, one arm wrapping itself around his ribs.

Jopson moves without thinking. His hand pressed to Little's back gently, he falls to his knees, wincing at the pain, but ignoring it, leaning down even further to get his eyes on Little's face.

"Breathe." Jopson instructs, gentle, Little's eyes snap to his, watery and wide.

"Breathe." Jopson says again, his own eyes wide, waiting for the Lieutenant to respond. The man nods, squeezes his eyes tight and sucks in. It's shakey, and he coughs on the exhale.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't-" he's shaking his head, trying to pull away. Jopson stands again, helps Little do the same, pressing him up and back by the shoulder until his back is against the wall.

"It's alright. It doesn't matter. Just breathe, sir." He puts his hand on the Lieutenant's chest, keeps his eyes on him. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his teeth digging into his lip so hard he's drawn blood.

"Lieutenant." Jopson says, with force. Little's eyes snap open, his lip falling free of his teeth as his mouth falls open in suprise, their eyes meet and he presses harder on his chest.

"Breathe." He instructs again. The tension in Little's body snaps, his knees wobble, but Jopson holds him up. His breathing evening out. His hand had wrapped around Jopson's wrist at some point, his fingers hot against his wrist.

He takes a long, deep, breath, his eyes falling closed, and nods again, slowly.

"I'm fine." He says, barely, if Jopson hadn't been so focused on him he wouldn't have heard it. He's not even sure he's talking to him.

Jopson drums his fingers against the Lieutenant's chest and he opens his eyes slowly, his cheeks flushing, even deeper, when he meets his eyes. Jopson quirks an eyebrow.

"Now." Little breaths, the corner of Jopson's mouth twitches. Little's does as well.

"I'm fine now." He repeats, his fingers squeezing Jopson's wrist before he lets his hand fall, his knees buckling finally as he slides down the wall to the floor, knees pulled up, his head falling into his hands.

Jopson looks around, sees no one, and slowly crouches next to him. His hands smoothing over his thighs nervously as he sinks to the floor.

"What happened?" Jopson asks, Little's eyes fall on him again.

"If you don't mind me asking... sir." Jopson corrects, swallowing roughly, that was much too forward. He shouldn't have asked, should have just left the man to himself.

"I dunno. Just, all of a sudden... felt... i dunno. I can't explain it." He shakes his head, rubs at his chest, Jopson keeps his eyes on the wall next to Little's head, avoiding looking at his exposed arm, the parts of his chest he can see.

"It was just. A bad feeling? Like... dread. And then i couldn't breathe. I couldn't-" his chest hitches again, Jopson's hand reaches out, lands on the Lieutenant's knee.

"It's alright. You're alright. Sir." Jopson soothes, his thumb moving, back and forth, once.

"Thanks to you." Little says, eyes locked on Jopson. They sit there for a long moment, looking at each other. Jopson caves first, ducks his head and smiles, before standing again. He offers his hand to the Lieutenant and pulls him to his feet.

He sees him back to his cabin in silence. Both of them moving slow. Little ducks back into his room, glancing at Jopson, a "thank you" whispered as he slides the door shut. Jopson nods, though Little can no longer see him, and heads back to his own room. That sense of dread Little had mentioned following him through the dark, sending a shiver down his spine.

~°~

It happens again after Gore and Franklin die. Jopson listens to Crozier speak and as soon as he's finished, he watches Lieutenant Little walk back to the ship. His shoulders tight, his back much too straight. Jopson follows, slowly, cautiously.

Finds him below decks once again, this time struggling to get his coat undone, his hands shaking as he tries the buttons and fails, gives the front of the thing a hearty tug, a frustrated, desperate sound punching out of him.

He's trying the buttons again to no avail when Jopson steps in front if him, hands moving to cover his, stilling them, he moves them out of the way, pressed them to his sides.

"Steady, Lieutenant." He makes easy work of the buttons, helps drag the coat away and watches the Lieutenant bend, his hands on his knees, eyes squeezed shut.

He calms his breathing on his own this time. His chest slowing, his shoulders sagging as the moment passes, his head shaking.

"Graham's gone. And Franklin. I don't-" he shakes his head again and stands, hand pressed firmly to his chest, like he can steady the way his lungs tremor inside him if he just presses hard enough.

"Yes. But you're not." Jopson says, steps closer as Little looks at him.

"No. I'm not." He sighs, drops his eyes to the floor and breathes out,

"Might have been better." It's low, barely audible, but Jopson hears it, again.

"I beg your pardon sir?" He asks, holding the Lieutenant's coat closer to his chest, his hand fisted beneath it. The meer suggestion of that making him feel cold.

"If it was me. I mean." Little clarifies, needlessly. Jopson takes a deep breath, feels his nails digging into his palms.

"I hope you don't believe that, sir." He says, and he knows he sounds... more emotional, than he should. Little doesn't look at him this time, just shrugs one shoulder up and down before straightening his back, schooling his face, no emotions. Jopson sighs, holds out his coat.

Little's slides his arms back in it, tries to button it before Jopson swoops in and does it for him. He moves to straighten his collar and takes a deep breath.

"No one here, would agree with your sentiments Lieutenant. I hope you know that." He smoothes his hands across Little's shoulders, more aggressively than is needed, and walks away from him. He doesn't look back.

~°~

It happens again after the flogging. After the men leave the ship and it's just the ten of them left. The captain locked in his cabin, sitting in the dark, slipping deeper and deeper into his drink.

Little nearly falls down the ladder. His boots skidding on the wood as he stumbles past Jopson, reaching out with one hand, knocking the towels right out his hands. Jopson grabs his hand immediately, steadying him, his fingers so tight he feels his bones pop.

"I can't- I can't-" Little wheezes, his voice breathy, his eyes watering, his free hand clawing at his throat.

"It's okay." Jopson says, keeping his voice quiet, soothing.

"I tried- I tried to stop-" his voice hitches, deep in his throat, and then Little is in his arms, head tucked against his shoulder. Jopson doesn't hesitate, just wraps his arms around the man. Tries not to revel in the feel of Little's arms wrapped tight around him as well, his hands grabbing hard against his back.

"You're alright. I've got you." Jopson whispers, his hands soothing in circles over the Lieutenant's back. He can feel him crying, feel his tears on his neck, feel the damp through his shirt.

"Shh. It's okay. You're safe. We're okay." He doesn't mean to say it. Not really. Not the "we", bit of it. But it comes out, and he feels the Lieutenant freeze in his arms, he sniffles, pulls away. Jopson almost runs, but Little's hands settle on his hips as he leans away and he finds he can't move.

"Are we?" He breathes, Jopson feels the air of it on his face. Feels the weight of it in his chest, in the tightening skin of his back.

"Safe as we can be." Is all he can think to say. Lieutenant Little stares at him, eyes moving across his face, brows knitted in that adorable solemn way.

"Good enough." He breathes, sounding desperate again. And then his lips are on Jopson's, just the gentlest press, a little chapped, but warm, and lovely. And Jopson knows he should react. Wants so badly to kiss him back, but he's frozen. Just standing there, eyes still open for god's sake, as Little kisses him.

He pulls back quickly, his frown even deeper. His hands drop away.

"Was that not-?" He starts, stops himself, fists clenched at his sides. He takes a step back.

"Pardon me. I'm sorry if i assumed- if i ... overstepped. I thought-"

"You didn't." Jopson corrects hurriedly, steps back into his space.

"You didn't." He repeats, grabs at Little's collar, tugs him forward.

"Edward. You didn't. You never do." He breathes the words against his lips, breathes them into his mouth. Jopson sighs into the kiss as Edward's arms wrap around his waist again and tug him closer.

Edward is gentle with him, holding him with care, his mouth soft against his own as Jopson pushes his hands into his hair, keeping him close. Feeling him against him, close, and warm, whole and alive.

~°~

He has another attack while Crozier heals. He hides away. Trying not to give Jopson more to worry about. Tries to shoo him away when he finds him.

Jopson forcibly holds him until his breathing evens out. Hands soothing through his hair. They rest there, for a few stolen moments, before the bell rings again and Jopson has to leave him to tend to their captain.

~°~

The last time it happens Edward is alone. Thomas is lying in a tent several feet away, and he can't breathe. His chest is tight, his hands are shaking, and he can't seem to stop crying.

Ever since Thomas collapsed, his knees buckling as he was in line for dinner. Edward was there, to catch him. Crozier helped him get him into a tent. His hands had come away from Thomas's back, wet with blood.

And he couldn't breathe.

He digs his fingers into his thighs, hard as he can, pain had always worked before. Before Thomas. And his gentle hands. His gentle heart.

It doesn't this time. His chest aches with lack of air and he presses his hand to his chest, genlty. Closes his eyes and thinks of Thomas, they way he'd calmed him, that first night, his hand against his chest.

"Breathe." Thomas's voice echoes in his head. The calm way he has, but assertive, and sure. Like he'd known Edward could do it. Like he'd had faith in him, which is more than he could ever say for himself.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, thinks of Thomas. And breathes.

~°~

The tent is cold. His body aches. The sound of sledges on shale wakes him. His eyes blink open slowly. Land on the man in the bed next to him first, almost certainly dead. He frowns, moves to get up and finds himself being held down, a warm hand gentle on his chest.

"Thomas. Don't. Just lie down." Edward's voice. He blinks slowly, his blurry vision moving to the body directly next to his cot. Edward Little, sat cross legged, his hand still on his chest, thumb soothing over his shirt there.

"Just rest." He says.

"What is that?" He frowns, his voice a rasp dragging out of his throat. Edward sighs, bone deep.

"They're leaving." Is all he says, Thomas struggles, tries to sit up, Edward keeps him still easily. His strength is gone.

"The captain's not with them. He's with Hickey. I tried-" his voice cracks. Thomas's heart cracks with it.

"I tried to go get him. They wouldn't follow me." He says, voice empty, his hand fisted in Thomas's shirt now. His eyes lock on Thomas's.

"I tried." He says again, his voice wrecked, full of desperation. Thomas closes his eyes, forces his body to move, and settles his hand over Edward's.

"I know you did." It hurts to talk. There's blood in his mouth. Always blood in his mouth.

"You always do." He tries to smile, it hurts, he tries anyway. He hears Edward crying. Keeps his eyes closed.

"You stayed." Thomas says, swallowing roughly. He opens his eyes and finds Edward's eyes boring into him, tears shining in his eyes and on his cheeks.

"Course I did." He whispers, his head shaking. Thomas grimaces, gives Edward's hand a weak squeeze.

"You should go." Thomas sighs, tries to rearrange himself, grimaces and groans and settles again.

"I'm not leaving you here." Edward says, his voice cracking again. Thomas blinks, slowly, looks at Edward for a long moment, until he ducks his head.

"Let me do this." He whispers. Looks up. Meets Thomas's eyes.

"Let me do this one right thing." He begs, fingers moving to lace with Thomas's, his hand warm in Thomas's cold one. Thomas sighs into the feeling. The only warmth in him now bleeding into his body from Edward's.

"Okay." Thomas sighs, Edward nods, his lip trembling.

"Okay." Thomas says again, gives Edward's hand a weak tug, asking him to move closer.

Edward lays next to the cot, can't fit into it without hurting Thomas, so he settles on the floor, lays his arm over Thomas, tries to keep him warm.

"You don't want to live?" Thomas wheezes, a few moments later, chest rattling, his fingers curling in Edward's sleeve as he stares at Edward.

"Not without you." Edward says, no hesitation, just honesty, as is his way. Thomas smiles. His skin aching, he presses his head deeper into the pillow beneath him.

"Together then." He breathes, forcing his free hand to move, his fingertips moving over Edward's cheeks, his nose, his lips.

"Together." Edward smiles at him, soft and sad. Takes Thomas's hand in his, presses kisses to his fingers, his knuckles, his palm.

They lay there, cold, in pain, left to die. But together.

Edward holds Thomas as he goes, feels him stop breathing and holds him tighter. Keeps his eyes closed. Forces himself not to look. Forces away the tight feeling in his chest.

He lays there until he can't feel anything. The cold clawing at him, through his skin and bones, the way it's already clawed at, and taken, Thomas. He lays there, holding Thomas close, and stops breathing.

[tozlittle]

[pinootgu]

my favorite part about henry collins is that he would be having a bad time in every timeline. he's your coworker that's always fighting battles. he's hitting his bong on his smoke break and having a panic attack on shift. he gets in fights w squirrels he doesn't start and does lose. you would have LOVED ssris and weed induced psychosis ‼️‼️‼️

[maedhrus]

you start thinking of edward little as a girl dad once and it literally does not stop

[mwestbelle]

fic: all that glitters

Edward Little/Thomas Jopson | Explicit | 2.1k

Edward Little runs into his untouchable coworker crush at a gay bar. It turns out pretty great, actually.

This is a fic about Ned Little's pierced nipples.

Read it on AO3

Written for @theterrorbingo: "Every gold thing there is"

[strogoff-era]

Day 8 - Funny as hell

The Best Part of Waking Up by soft_october

Sorry Ned, but your panicking is just too funny </3 It's fluffy, it's silly, I love it. Ned tries to make coffee, asks for help 10.000 times and only get one (1) help.

Also I deeply relate to this fic as i've once tried to make coffee and failed so hard I still get told about this one year later. Earl makes "worst coffee ever" asked to leave school-organized event

[ailendolin]

Perspective - A The Terror Fic

Characters: Jopson/Little, Fitzjames/Crozier

Summary: As Edward frets about a possible future with Thomas, James gives him a little push in the right direction.

“For someone who has been saved from almost certain death, you don’t look particularly happy about going home,” James observes quietly. Edward’s hands grip the railing. What little colour there is to his skin bleeds from his knuckles as he opens his mouth to say something. No words come forth. James watches patiently as he fights a silent battle with himself. The sight of Edward’s internal struggle reminds him of all those visits to Erebus when Terror’s whiskey began to run out. He didn’t reach out to Edward then, not as he should have, but he reaches out now, places a hand on Edward’s tense shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “There is someone I do not wish to be parted from upon our return to England. Someone I cannot bear to be parted from.”

Read here

[alxiet]

uhhhm I read TRULY FASCINATING fic https://archiveofourown.gay/works/30378480/chapters/74892135 by @longstoryshortikilledhim and it completely changed my brain chemistry so I made this joplittle sketch some time ago

[oughtnots]

my art for the reverse bang this year! these illustrations are for @derry-rain's amazing fic, barghest. please go check it out!!

[sleepy-hyperfixations]

any fics where ned has nipple piercings is an automatic 10/10 for me

[dead-freight]

FFRMC day 15 - silly and fun

my love is otherwise by @jkrockin

The Terror | Jopson/Little | E | 7k+ words

a mail-order bride AU

ned is so oblivious. lord help him. very cute.

[fredoesque]

“Ah, Jopson.” Edward tries to smile. “You needn’t call me ‘Captain’. I’m a lieutenant yet, merely—that is—you needn’t.”

“It’s common courtesy, sir, when a man has command of a ship.” Jopson doesn’t look like a man who has just lost a friend. He doesn’t look like a man who hasn’t slept in three days. He looks like a steward, with his hands steady and his head bowed.

Edward envies his composure, pities his composure, cannot, must not look at his eyes.

Or: on New Year’s Eve, 1847, Francis Crozier dies. All told, it changes very little.

finally posted my joplittle break-it (opposite of a fix-it)!!

[abrahamvanhelsings]

for the ship asks: joplittle? i know i'm opening pandora's box with this

if someone already asked, then going for any other ned ship you might also like? choose freely my friend

AUGH my beloveds!! ill try not to make this a whole essay so ill point out a couple of things that i love about them at random

the way they interact with each other on screen has me obsessed. i wrote a post a bit ago about how we don't see them talk much together but they have a lot of potential anyway, and then @cinematicnomad made a great point about the fact that they DO interact but a lot it is nonverbal. honestly that opened my eyes to so much little things i hadn't noticed before. that they communicate through glances and gestures and that they understand each other, know each other well enough to have that kind of interaction... they may be background characters and we may not see the progression of their relationship much, but we can tell that it happens, and that they become close. you can tell that being in that precarious situation together, where crozier's alcoholism is affecting the entire expedition but it also has to be kept a secret, and they're the two people who know, and who are responsible for crozier/everything else, that really created a very tight bond between them.

speaking of tight friendships! we can tell that it happens bc edward, famously, is SO happy when jopson is made lieutenant. everyone at that table thinks it's deserved, and is happy for jopson, but edward is a beam of sunlight in that tent. genuinely can't stop smiling. it's so so lovely to me that he can't contain his own glee bc he's so glad and proud. get you a man who applauds your successes like edward little

there are so many ways their personalities fit together so well!! they're both extremely diligent in their duties, but it plays out differently in them both, and they both have different weaknesses. they're the type of people who are generally quiet and unobtrusive but steadfast and loyal, but where jopson tends to go sharp as a knife under pressure, edward always worries that he is doing the right thing (that's also bc for a large part of the expedition they have very different responsibilites and cares, but nevertheless). they're both guarded where it comes to showing their inner feelings, but it feels to me that jopson can provide a firmness, the assurance that edward needs to remain confident in who he is and what he does, whereas edward (once you've cracked him like an egg) has a warmth to him that can fold around jopson like a blanket, to let go of that tightly-controlled professionalism. each other's safety blankets, people who can mitigate the other's shortcomings, and provide space for their better qualities and their feelings to come to full bloom.

lower class/higher class dynamic is a weakness of mine. any fic that has thomas being a steward/valet to edward in any capacity with the victorian slow burn mutual pining/mutual 'he is to good for me' has me on my knees

[manicpixiedreamjop]

Relationship: Thomas Jopson/Edward Little

Word count: 6,966 (nice)

Rating: E

Summary: Edward likes Van Diemen’s Land — likes the weather and the wildlife and the break from the society of London. He likes the Franklins as well, even if they can be a bit overbearing, and Lady Jane can treat him a bit more like a child than the man of one and thirty years that he is.

He would have found a way to be happy here, he thinks, were it not for the arrival of the Ross expedition.

It is not the expedition specifically, he supposes. He misses the Navy, though he’s still not entirely sure whether it’s the Navy itself he misses or the structure and camaraderie that came with it, but this new yearning he feels has nothing to do with the Navy and everything to do with Captain Crozier’s steward, a young, dark haired man with the most enchanting pale eyes Edward has ever seen.

A canon era AU with a little exhibitionism and a lot of sub top Ned/power bottom Tom

[maedhrus]

"where no storms come" | i: realisation | read on ao3

In countless other ways, his life had become a picture of contentment.

But Thomas had always kept tight to his chest how happy a child of his own would make him.

[lieutenant-catboy-little]

self rec

@fightthesun tagged me to do a fic author self rec, and list my five favorite works of my own. tyyy love

Performance, ned/crozier, rated E, 1,152 words

toxic boss!crozier/employee!ned w praise kink and exhibitionism. i'm always crazy abt ned and crozier and really enjoy their dynamic here and how grimy this fic feels.

I'm always getting lost, solittle, rated E, 9,607 words (5 chapters)

technically ned/tozer but mostly a story abt ned growing up asexual. i'm ace and i always want more and better ace representation and I'm pretty pleased with ned's journey in this one AND someone told me it made them have a good conversation with a friend which is the ultimate praise for a fic like this.

I'll just give you me, solittle, rated E, 2,139 words

solittle knights which is a VERY important solittle au to me, feat. nedner and some bittersweet romance. I just think their roles feel very natural here, the setting is very dreamy, and the intimacy is fitting and hot.

The Work Happy, joplittle, rated E, 2,003 words

canon era nedner and some spicy roleplay. another one where I feel like the dialogue and sex flow naturally and ned and tom get to have a very sweet and bittersweet moment at the end where I lay down some of my nedner thesis.

The Surviving of Wind and Water, queerplatonic nedving, rated E, 1,403 words

some lowkey canon era nedving after a long day. i really like that this story is very soft and quiet, and the sex isn't explosive but still loving and familiar; i think it feels real emotionally and grounded in the setting. it's also a bit of my nedving manifesto.

i'll tag @manicpixiedreamjop, @charlesdesvoeux, @moghraidhs, @recliquary, and @thedailylifeofafailedvodkaaunt if any of you want to do it any capacity!