Love From the Linden Trees

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Posts tagged fic rec

330 notes

I have no excuse for this

villainyandgoodcheekbones:

Ani was depressed because misongyny in fandom meta.

So I said I would write a thing. And I said, “watch me write Bahorel in lipstick and lingerie or something.

And see, me and Bahorel, we live by the simple creed of “Challenge Accepted”

You’re Welcome.

————————————————-

“Look, all I’m saying is that, regardless of whether femininity is actually demeaning, we have to consider it as such in the context of the idealized male form. Nobody wants to see men in skirts”

There is a murmur that sounds suspiciously like assent.

“I disagree.” Cosette replies coolly, slipping one red-tipped hand into her pocket. “I don’t think that’s a necessary implication at all…”

And it’s frankly, about to get ugly (the number of people in a gender studies seminar who consistently miss the point verges on extremely distressing at times), so the professor pipes up to remind everyone that their final projects are due after the weekend.

Cosette runs into Mr. “Idealized Male form” on her way out, and he smiles, and laughs, and does his very best to joke that even she has to admit, it’d be hard to find a guy, a big guy, a real guy, who would dress up like that.

She smiles at him, very, very politely.

And sends a text to Bahorel and Eponine.

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Filed under perfection les mis fic rec fanfic cosette eponine bahorel

21 notes

queenklu: sorry i saw ‘serpents’ and got carried away! Ragnar got his first snake tattoo the instant he was legal—literally made an appointment at midnight with an artist he’d chatted to for a while, and waited. It was a thin serpent, coiled around his wrists, barely wide enough to show color, scales of green and blue and gold. “Like your eyes,” the artist said, and Ragnar kissed him for it, hot from the buzz of a needle and the leather of the chair. His second tattoo is much larger. A snake, barely—half constrictor, half dragon, draped around his shoulders, the head curled down to rest against his collarbone. Its gold eyes seem to shift with his breathing, but never blink, staring down his enemies as he runs through the streets, hellhounds snapping at his heels. The third is for Lagertha, no matter what she says. “Why on your belly,” she asks, trailing a fingertip over his still-pink skin. “Why not over your heart?” “Because you ate my heart, and I ate yours,” he whispers against the feathers of her loose hair, hand gliding down the leather of her jacket. The last is when they find their priest, the one top of his class in seminary school, the one with the bright eyes and the mouth quick to laugh. He’s not of their world, yet. Not yet but soon, soon, and finally they bring him to the parlor with their arms coiled around him and he’s shaking he’s so happy, scared, and loved. “Right here,” Ragnar says, tapping the top of Athelstan’s spine with two fingers, jabs like fangs sinking in. “A Celtic knot with a serpent’s head.” “Like the Book of Kells,” Athelstan perks up, and Lagertha looks sideways at him, fondly. “Like a brand,” she says, “all ours to see,” and he shivers into her mouth when she kisses him.

queenklu:

sorry i saw ‘serpents’ and got carried away!

Ragnar got his first snake tattoo the instant he was legal—literally made an appointment at midnight with an artist he’d chatted to for a while, and waited. It was a thin serpent, coiled around his wrists, barely wide enough to show color, scales of green and blue and gold. “Like your eyes,” the artist said, and Ragnar kissed him for it, hot from the buzz of a needle and the leather of the chair.

His second tattoo is much larger. A snake, barely—half constrictor, half dragon, draped around his shoulders, the head curled down to rest against his collarbone. Its gold eyes seem to shift with his breathing, but never blink, staring down his enemies as he runs through the streets, hellhounds snapping at his heels.

The third is for Lagertha, no matter what she says. “Why on your belly,” she asks, trailing a fingertip over his still-pink skin. “Why not over your heart?”

“Because you ate my heart, and I ate yours,” he whispers against the feathers of her loose hair, hand gliding down the leather of her jacket.

The last is when they find their priest, the one top of his class in seminary school, the one with the bright eyes and the mouth quick to laugh. He’s not of their world, yet. Not yet but soon, soon, and finally they bring him to the parlor with their arms coiled around him and he’s shaking he’s so happy, scared, and loved.

“Right here,” Ragnar says, tapping the top of Athelstan’s spine with two fingers, jabs like fangs sinking in. “A Celtic knot with a serpent’s head.”

“Like the Book of Kells,” Athelstan perks up, and Lagertha looks sideways at him, fondly.

“Like a brand,” she says, “all ours to see,” and he shivers into her mouth when she kisses him.

(via anenormousschwanzstucker)

Filed under vikings fanfic fic rec lagertha x athelstan x ragnar modern au tattoos

36 notes

thedearest-themostvaliant:

oh my god okay you guys have no idea how excited I am for this

I could just shriek

but okay

“pray til I go blind because nobody ever survives”

Montparnasse/Grantaire, AU where instead of latching onto Enjolras and Les Amis, Grantaire latches onto Montparnasse and Patron-Minette. Oneshot, but I’d love to do more in this verse. Warning for brief mentions of consensual knifeplay/scarification, dead barricade boys, allusions to murder and other Patron-Minette shenanigans.

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Filed under fic rec les mis

31 notes

fic: the rosary, her lips and tongue (les mis, marius/cosette)

ursules:

During his recovery, Cosette and Marius experiment and become closer. She would like to tell him that she will keep him alive, that the barricade is gone, that she will pull him to earth, but she holds back, doesn’t want to dispel whatever tentative thing they’ve made here.

nc-17. 2353 words.based around various versions of les mis and not particularly faithful to any one version.

originally posted at the lj porn battle.

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(Source: annalouet, via annalouet)

Filed under hot DAMN cosette x marius fanfic les mis fic rec

24 notes

GRIT and GLITTR: No. Just don't.

thedisreputabledog:

pedertastic:

thedisreputabledog:

Agree, the genre as it’s usually presented is misnamed and cissexist. I usually call it “sex change curse” fic when I’m reccing stories. I’m intrigued by Bryce’s idea of the inverse, where someone wakes up with an unchanged body but a different gender identity. 

Hailey, you should try “Not Time’s Fool” by FayJay. Dean’s the cursed one and it’s told from his perspective, and it’s the only story I’ve found so far where he’s still himself in the new body and the pronouns don’t change.

Well, that’s the first “genderswap” fic I’ve ever read that I’ve enjoyed; thanks for the rec! I actually found it empowering - the idea that Sam can be turned on by Dean’s new anatomy while still respecting and embracing his brother’s masculinity. Quite lovely.

Yay! I like that Dean doesn’t instantly get long coifed tresses or femme know-how, and doesn’t even bother to change his wardrobe for the most part. I have more squee but I don’t want to spoil it all for Hailey. He’s just so DEAN all the way through. *squish*

(Source: xsnappapplex)

Filed under it's AMAZING fic rec supernatural incest: tw consensual consent