#and oh boy... maybe even as if not all gay men live in the north american queer scene but in a whole different culture society and continen

[scarefox]

important little side notes:

[c-is-for-circinate]

For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

[sepedarodatiga]

The Snow Queen fairytale as a motif used in GoT/ASOIAF

First of all, how many fairytales and myths can GRRM fit into this story, seriously?? I know many have written well thought and well informed meta of various fairytale motives fit with ASOIAF/GoT, and I am just here adding into an already huge pile, but it bothers me, okay. I have to get it out there into the tumblr void. And this is not really a well thought and well informed meta (I’m not a folklore/literature expert, not to mention European folklore/literature), I’m just pointing my fingers into the patterns I saw fit. Also, I can’t count myself as ASOIAF book reader, I just watch the show. What I know about the books, I read it here in tumblr. 

But anyway, you might be surprised as to which character I saw fit as The Snow Queen in GoT

It’s Daenerys Targaryen.

I know I know... whaat? The Mother of Dragons, Bride of Fire as The Snow Queen? Get out of here, right...

But it’s a pun. It’s not The Snow Queen, it’s Jon Snow’s Queen, get it? Remember how Jon repeatedly saying “you’re my queen” to Dany during season 8? Yeah. Oh and Jon is Kay, while Sansa is Gerda. 

What made me realize that Dany is The Snow Queen is when I was reading my son the fairytale. In the version retold by Kate Friend, it describes The Snow Queen as beautiful and terrible. And I was like, huh, just like Dany, especially with the white hair and the all white costume in season 8. 

Daenerys Targaryen, beautiful and terrible.

And then of course the story went on describing how Kay becomes her prisoner and then I was like, well that’s like Jon Snow during season 8 too.... And then in Disney’s adaptation Frozen, Elsa has white hair with purple eyeshadow, while Anna (Gerda) has....red hair....which is like... Sansa Stark. Then I also remember the illustration on my son’s book which is by John Patience, that reminded me of the Iron Throne.

The Snow Queen illustration by John Patience. See how much alike this setting is with the Red Keep? Especially in Dany’s vision in HoTU when snow was falling.

So I went investigating, and shit... I mean obviously the sequencing was moved around, GRRM likes to subvert things, but my God!

Before we get into Jon Snow and his queen, I have to start with the other characters first. And I will be taking excerpt of the story from The Hans Christian Andersen Center website which I assume would be the most original one.

Gerda = Sansa Stark

Here is a description of Gerda’s power:  “No power that I could give could be as great as that which she already has. Don't you see how men and beasts are compelled to serve her, and how far she has come in the wide world since she started out in her naked feet? We mustn't tell her about this power. Strength lies in her heart, because she is such a sweet, innocent child.”

Furthermore, her connection with Kay are through roses (they have a window box full of roses) and a song that goes like this:  "Where roses bloom so sweetly in the vale, There shall you find the Christ Child, without fail." Another variation of the song is: “The rose in the valley has flowers so sweet, and angels come down there the children to greet.” She saved Kay with her prayers, hugs, kisses, tears and her song and their reunion literally ended winter and brings spring. If that’s not Sansa Stark (and the jonsa reunion), then I don’t know what is.

Gerda made a journey to the North to find Kay and bring him back together with her to their home. Sansa did not meant to make a journey North to find Jon and bring him back home, but this is what happened anyway. The story even stressed on the fact that when they came back to their homes, they were no longer children but grown ups. On her quest Gerda offered her red shoes to the river to get information about Kay’s whereabouts but the red shoes were given back to her the first time. But she did it once again and the river set her on the path to find Kay. I’m not really sure but for Sansa it could be her betrothal to Joffrey that was then canceled but then she got married to Tyrion Lannister. Her red shoes is her name and her claim to the North.

Gerda then met an old woman who wanted to keep her and made her forget about Kay by keeping all the roses underground. The old woman’s place was beautiful. Here is an excerpt:  “Then Gerda was led into the flower garden. How fragrant and lovely it was! Every known flower of every season was there in full bloom. No picture book was ever so pretty and gay. Gerda jumped for joy, and played in the garden until the sun went down behind the tall cherry trees. Then she was tucked into a beautiful bed, under a red silk coverlet quilted with blue violets. There she slept, and there she dreamed as gloriously as any queen on her wedding day.” But then she saw a rose on the old woman’s hat and finally remembers her purpose of finding Kay. I would say that the old woman is Cersei Lannister who tried to make Sansa forget about her home and her innocence. Sansa was also saved from her clutch by roses (The Tyrells).

Then Gerda with information from a crow, met a Princess and Prince. She thought that the Prince might be Kay, but it turns out he was not. This might be Sansa’s vale arc and the Prince is either Petyr Baelish or Harry Hardyng. The Prince and Princess also gave provisions for Gerda’s journey to the North, so this may be that the KoTV helps Sansa getting Winterfell back. The crow, has a ladylove, another crow and they finally get married and live in the Princess’s castle though unfortunately the crow then died. The crow was a wild forest crow while his ladylove is a tame crow. These two crows could be genderbent into Sam Tarly and Gilly. Remember that Sam is mock as Jon’s ladylove by Alliser Thorne?

Next Gerda met a robber girl who sleeps with a knife and have plenty of pigeons. Yep, of course that is very much like Arya Stark (who sometimes is being referred to as “a girl”)

The pigeons told Gerda about Kay and The Snow Queen. The robber girl finally gave Gerda her reindeer called Bae for her journey to the North. The girl likes to tickle the reindeer’s neck with her knife. At the end of the story it is told that the robber girl then decided to leave her place and find adventure in the world. Very much like Arya’s ending.

Now about that reindeer Bae who helped Gerda to reach to Kay in The Snow Queen’s palace in the far North. In ASOIAF/GoT, we can connect Bae to Baelish. Make sense. Petyr Baelish helps Sansa get to North and Arya’s knife did end up in his neck. But also we can connect it to two foreshadowing of Sansa bearing Jon’s child. The first is more well-known: Bael the Bard. The second one I think is more hidden and I made a post about it quite long ago: Baelor. Is this far fetched? Maybe, but I’ll take it.

Kay = Jon (+ The Night King)

Kay and Gerda are neighbours and they share a garden (particularly a flower box full of roses). Their relationship, in the words of Hans Christian Andersen himself are: “These children were not brother and sister, but they loved each other just as much as if they had been.” So they are NOT brother and sister but love each other as such. While Jon and Sansa are also NOT brother and sister but was raised as such.

Then Kay got splinters of magic mirror stuck to his eyes and his heart. The mirror “made everything great and good that was reflected in it appear small and ugly, but which magnified all evil things until each blemish loomed large”. It made Kay hated all the roses, they look ugly now to his eyes and also made Kay loved the snow and the cold. Jon Snow at the beginning of the story was a cynical little boy because he was raised as a bastard. He wanted to leave Winterfell and sneered at the idea of having a family of his own because he felt that he can’t have them. So he went to the coldest place there is.

In the story, Kay plays with his sled, and then The Snow Queen came with her sled and Kay hooked his sled to hers. The Snow Queen first, covers Kay in a bearskin rug and gave Kay kisses. The first kiss “was colder than ice. He felt it right down to his heart, half of which was already an icy lump. He felt as if he were dying, but only for a moment. Then he felt quite comfortable, and no longer noticed the cold”. The second kiss makes Kay forgets about Gerda and their homes. The third kiss, The Snow Queen does not give him because it would be the kiss of death.

I argue that GRRM subvert this story. I think Jon Snow was already saved by Sansa before he met Dany. The splinters in his eyes and heart was already gone when he faced The Snow Queen. The reunion happened before he met Dany. The first two kisses also already happened: Jon Snow had died and came alive again, and he also forced to forget about his home and family while he was at the Night’s Watch. The bearskin rug which The Snow Queen used to cover Kay can allude to Jeor Mormont and/or Longclaw. 

Then Jon Snow met his queen finally, but instead of a hooking sleds.... it’s dragons. Jon Snow’s sled was his dragon Rhaegal which are hooked to Dany’s sled Drogon. But his eyes wasn’t blinded by the splinter and his heart were already warm. He knowingly and willingly follow the dragon to save his family.

And the third kiss of death that wasn’t given by The Snow Queen? Jon Snow will give it to his queen instead.

Now let’s go back a little bit. Kay was also given a puzzle from ice by The Snow Queen, and if he can solve it then he is free. He was supposed to spell the word “eternity” but he couldn’t figure it out with the shard in his eyes and heart. In GoT we know exactly who has got an shard in his heart.

The Night King. And so that is why he plays with puzzle in ice. He is struggling to form the one symbol that would set him free.

Bonuses

Other than those patterns, there are several interesting tidbits from the story that fits with ASOIAF. There is this one blog said that The Snow Queen story was inspired by another story called “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” which if you read it, it is essentially “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” (the bear is a white bear, by the way)

More bonuses here. When Gerda finally remembers to find Kay during her time in the old woman’s home because of the rose, different flowers gave her different stories even though none tells her about Kay.

This is the story from tiger lily:

"Do you hear the drum? Boom, boom! It was only two notes, always boom, boom! Hear the women wail. Hear the priests chant. The Hindoo woman in her long red robe stands on the funeral pyre. The flames rise around her and her dead husband, but the Hindoo woman is thinking of that living man in the crowd around them. She is thinking of him whose eyes are burning hotter than the flames-of him whose fiery glances have pierced her heart more deeply than these flames that soon will burn her body to ashes. Can the flame of the heart die in the flame of the funeral pyre?"

So GRRM didn’t take the sati ritual for Dany’s rites of passage as mother of dragons from just anywhere, but it is from this story.

Also, hear this story from hyacinth

"There were three sisters, quite transparent and very fair. One wore a red dress, the second wore a blue one, and the third went all in white. Hand in hand they danced in the clear moonlight, beside a calm lake. They were not elfin folk. They were human beings. The air was sweet, and the sisters disappeared into the forest. The fragrance of the air grew sweeter. Three coffins, in which lie the three sisters, glide out of the forest and across the lake. The fireflies hover about them like little flickering lights. Are the dancing sisters sleeping or are they dead? The fragrance of the flowers says they are dead, and the evening bell tolls for their funeral."

Of course this immediately bring to memory the quote of Jon Snow with Val: “The light of the half-moon turned Val’s honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. “The air tastes sweet.”” Well then, according to Hans Christian Andersen, that means death. There are three sisters here which could allude to the three queens at the almost end of GoT: Cersei Lannister (red), Sansa Stark (blue) and Daenerys Targaryen (white).

So those are my stab at it. I would be interested to hear if anyone’s take on it.

[444piscesprincess]

childhood friends to lovers/growing up together sterek fic reclist

uhh this kinda got a lil angsty but i recommend you pick a growing up together fic and listen to this song i promise you will not regret it 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Dz8nrwQlPLE68WaTEIqY5?si=aogjMc1aToSALmAlfQOR7A 

anyways as usual check tags please!!

(click on the title for the fic)

you know you're on my mind

bibliosexual

Summary:

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

(hs!au + texting!au + childhood friends to lovers the ULTIMATE fluff fic)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)   (series)

yodasyoyo

Summary:

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek's voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don't exist?

Up Down Lock Unlock

isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Summary:

“Why are you going into grandma Ito’s apartment?” he asked.

Derek turned to him, key sliding into the lock. “What do you mean?” He tried to turn it, but the key wasn’t budging. Maybe the lock was sticking again, it’d been doing that the past few days.

Stiles was staring at him like Derek was stupid.

Derek did not appreciate sass from a ten year old.

“That’s grandma Ito’s place.”

“No,” Derek said calmly, pulling the key out and then shoving it back in, wiggling it a little when it continued to refuse to unlock the door. “This is my place.”

“I think you’re on the wrong floor then, because that apartment belongs to grandma Ito.”

(time travel counts as childhood friends right?)

the difference between going back and going home

thepsychicclam

Summary:

Stiles and Derek were inseparable growing up, but then college, jobs, and life happened. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills a decade later, he doesn't expect to reconnect with Derek, and he sure doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

It's Such a Gas When You Bring Up the Past

orphan_account

Summary:

Stiles finds a box of old photo albums that dredge up the sweet, the funny, the adorable, and the mildly heartwrenching parts of his and Derek's past.

(mainly a friends fic but its too cute to not include)

It's Always Been You

charlesdk

Summary:

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Lead You Home Again

GotTheSilver

Summary:

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Kingdom By The Sea

kilaem

Summary:

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

Those That Bump In The Night

bleep0bleep

Summary:

A boy’s head appears upside down, hanging off the bed. “Is anyone there?” he calls out curiously, looking right at Derek’s eyes. Caught, then. The protocol for being deliberately seen by a child is just to look as strange and fearsome as possible. No one would believe them, anyways. But Derek is tired, and he’s been running and scared, and now he just kind of flickers, curling out a tendril of dark smoke, hoping that he’s a little bit scary. No such luck. The boy’s eyes widen. “Oooh, are you the bogeyman?” “Bogeyperson,” Derek says, before he can help himself.

~

When Stiles was a boy, he had an imaginary friend named Derek. Ten years later, Derek comes back, and is very, very real.

Five Times Derek and Stiles Kissed For Practice (And One Time They Didn't)

mikkimouse

Summary:

In which Derek and Stiles grow up together and practice kissing, roughly in that order.

216 + 1: Words To Say Instead of I Love You

briggs

Summary:

Derek and Stiles have been best friends for fourteen years. They have their differences, sure, but it's never been a question for them. Their friendship has been the most solid thing in their lives -- until suddenly it isn't anymore.

Funny how just a few choice words can throw fourteen years of friendship off-balance.

OR

a collection of "Bro, That's Gay" one-shots that actually ended up turning into a concrete storyline.

hope is the thing with feathers (part of a series)

ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

(one of my favourite fics like EVER)

it came from the trees

whatshouldntbe

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet.“...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

or

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

(oh god this fic is the literal best even though its abandoned it ends at okay-ish place. this is one of the best hale family characterisations ive ever read. if you squint it can be a childhood friends to lovers fic but im including it anyway bc its amazing)

Promises aren't Meant to be Broken

paradis

Summary:

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

(more laura and stiles besties centric but totally worth a read)

The Things We See

MelodramaticSalad

Summary:

Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.

Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She'd raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.

Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn't need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.

take me back

matildajones

Summary:

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

[connorandersons-blog]

Kinktober Day 3: Prostitution, RK1K

Markus/Connor! Enjoy!

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

Connor highly doubted this was legit, but the Mistress said it was, so he was going to go anyway. Some days it was hard to believe what he did for a living, but at this point, he tried to just focus on getting into character. 

That's never been too hard before, even with the most outrageous demands. As long as they paid good enough and respected his terms then he'd do almost anything. 

The hotel was the same as all the others he often visited. Actually, if his memory is correct (which it always is), he's been to this exact hotel seven times before. It was definitely more classy and he didn't even get odd looks from the staff, though they were sure to whisper about him and wonder who he was there for later. 

That was fine, let them imagine him draped over some old fat white man that paid him in hundreds for a single night just to get slapped around a little. Those men were the easiest. Most predictable. They were dominant in their social lives and needs to be treated like shit every now and then. 

He expected that for most of his clients. Some surprised him with their requests. It was always interesting when they wanted him to bottom. Sometimes that could be rather nice but there were also the men that made his skin crawl and need to take a very long hot shower after. 

It wasn't just men who hired him either, there were plenty of women or people of other genders. Most of the feminine people who hired him wanted to dom him, which he gladly let happen. 

He glanced down at his outfit, satisfied it was to his standards before unlocking the door and walking in. He had said there was no need to knock, so Connor didn't. 

He was fully ready for some random rich dude posing as his client but was surprised to see that wasn't the case at all. 

Markus Manfred, CEO of the largest paint store, and the CEO of a tech store standing in the hotel room, shirt off, and painting. It really was him. He was also painting. Which made sense but his brain was still trying to wrap around the fact that he'd have his legs wrapped around Markus Manfred tonight. 

Best. Job. Ever.

He was a professional though, and he easily pulled himself together, swaying his hips as he walked in. "Mr. Manfred, you didn't need to get all dressed up for me." He says. 

Manfred jumps and Connor has to contain an eye roll. Hadn't the dude heard the door open? He really hoped he wasn't going to be creepy. If he was then he'd get to bitch to Gavin about it, so there was that. 

Manfred turned and eyed him. Connor stood there, hip out, and let him. He gladly soaked in the attention, ready to do a fucking twirl if Manfred wanted. "Uh, just Markus is fine…" 

"Hello, Just Markus. I'm Connor, but you can give me a different one if you like. I'm partial to baby boy, or master depending on what you like." He added a wink at the end, but he had a feeling Manfred was more of a top. Hopefully, he had a big dick or a lot of stamina. Connor was lucky to be graced with both. 

Markus nodded, holding out his hand. Connor raised an eyebrow but shook it, not too bothered about the paint that had gotten on him. "Right, hello Connor. Um, not to sound like a dick… but do I know you? I generally have a really good memory, but maybe I was drunk? I'm so sorry, I don't mean to offend you." 

What? This was the right room, and definitely the right client. Maybe Markus wanted to play into this, but he seemed genuinely confused. What the hell was she supposed to do?! "I'm Connor, from Bees Love? You did set an appointment with me for the whole night." 

Markus's eyes go wide and he face-palms. "I'm going to fucking kill North," he grumbled before dragging the hand down his face. 

It's oddly adorable that Markus seemed to forget he had not-quite dried paint on his hands that were now on his face. "I'm so sorry, North said I needed to relax and sent me here. I thought it was just to get away and paint in peace. I'll still pay you, um, and tip? Do you take tips?" 

This was actually happening. And it was the funniest damn thing that had happened all week, and he had gotten to sleep with a very famous comedian. He burst into laughter, not able to hold it in anymore. 

"I'm so sorry, this is great!" He laughed, trying to take in air. "Yes, I do get tipped depending on how I do. Uh, I don't really have anywhere else to be. You sure you don't wanna sleep with me? I'm up for almost anything." 

Markus was looking at him kinda funny. A look he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. No. Nope. Big nope. He was not going down that rabbit hole. "Ah, no? But not because you aren't beautiful! You are, very much so. If you weren't a prostitute I'd sleep with you. Wait, shit, I didn't mean it like that!" 

Uh, so Markus was actually adorable. Too bad he wouldn't sleep with Connor. He'd probably be the best lay he's gotten all month. "No, it's fine. I understand. Could uh… can I stay though? I just wasn't planning on going back home tonight, I got a dog-sitter and everything. We won't do anything unless you want. I won't even talk." He was good at not talking, or talking. He could be good at basically anything if he needed to be. 

Markus fidgeted and Connor was ready to be told to leave. This would most definitely be his shortest appointment ever. But Markus surprised him once again. "Sure. Do you like painting? I've got another canvas." 

Connor shrugged and rolled up his sleeves. He could just get another shirt if this one got messy, it wasn't like he didn't have enough money. "Sure, I'm always willing to try something new. Makes the job easy." 

Markus snorts and looks around before pulling out a medium-sized canvas. "I'm sure it does. Alright, so there are these paints you can use. Go wild, I've got plenty." Markus said, pointing then out before picking up his paintbrush. 

He's never really painted and he had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to come up with an idea himself or maybe still life? It was called that, right? 

"Hey, you don't have to. I'm gonna pay the whole thing and tip. If you don't wanna paint I'm sure I can find something else. Food? Uh, tv?" Markus says, looking around the rather large hotel room. "I think there's a hot tub, and a bathroom if you need it. Just do whatever you want." 

Connor couldn't help the smirk. "What if I want to do you?" He watches as Markus's face flushed slightly. It was barely discernible but he could tell. Also how the fuck was this man so beautiful? It was completely unfair that he was so pretty. 

"I- um, thank you? I just, I don't want to pressure you just because it's your job. I'd rather get to know you first? I just, I guess I really do need to relax but it would feel like I'm taking advantage of you." Markus shrugged, staring at the ground. 

Of course, the one guy he fully wanted to sleep with, like would actually do anything, was giving him reasons he wouldn't. Yet it just made the want stronger. He hadn't felt this… whatever this feeling was in awhile. "Alright, well then we can get to know each other. Let's start off easy, who's North?" 

"My best friend. We were high school sweethearts but little did North know she was hella gay, so we broke up at the start of college. We stayed close and I even introduced her to her wife." Markus smiled so fondly it almost hurt to see. 

Would his friends smile like that when talking about Connor? Sure Gavin was friendly (in his own weird way and only after he made a complete ass of himself) but they weren't that close. The Mistress was his boss, and he'd like to think they were friends. Not like this though. 

He knew so many people, had slept with so many, and knew secrets they'd never even tell their dogs, and yet no one he had like Markus had North. It never hurt so much before. 

"Best friend," he said, clearing his throat. "So, I'm assuming you have more friends than just her then." 

Markus nodded, the smile still on his face. "Yeah, Josh and Simon. I also used to date Simon but… things happened. The only one I haven't dated was Josh, but he's also straight so it's not like I even ever had the chance. I met Josh in college, he was a professor, and I met Simon through work." 

Connor nodded, taking mental notes. "You seem really close." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but by the look, Markus was giving him, he failed. 

"We are, but the situation pushed us together even more. If I wasn't supposed to be on my phone I'd text North to have them come over." He nodded towards the table where the phone was. 

Markus was really making this too easy. "Oh? Well, that's technically extra but I'm always up for an orgy, haven't been in one in a while." He smiled, tilting his head. 

"I- uh, no! No, I just, I didn't mean-" Markus rambled. 

"It's fine, I'm fucking with you in the only way you'll let me. So, if I'm just going to hang out for the night, who do you want me to be? I can be innocent, sophisticated… lustful." He said, stepping closer to Markus. 

Markus took a step back, shaking his head. "I just want you to be yourself. You don't have to do or say anything you don't want to, there's no pressure. You can even leave whenever you want without question." 

Oh. Himself? No one ever wanted him to just be himself. Sure he was asked for slightly different versions of himself but nothing like this. Not when Markus actually meant it. "M-me? Just, um, myself?" 

Markus nodded, smiling softly. "Yep, just you. You probably don't get a lot of time to do that, so feel free." 

Hm, fine. He'd be himself. "Mind if I use the bathroom then?" He grabbed his bag, and at Markus's nod went to the bathroom. 

He took off his lingerie, clothes, and contacts. Instead, he put on soft pajamas after taking a shower and put his glasses on. He didn't bother straightening his hair. If he was going to be himself then he was going to do it fully. He always kept these with him so he could slip into it after the job was done. 

He walked out, shuffling slightly and looking anywhere than at Markus. He'd never let a client see him like this, but Markus wasn't actually a client. Not in the normal sense. "Uh, you sure this is ok?"

He finally looked up and felt like running back into the bathroom and putting his other clothes back on. Those always made him more confident, it was like putting on a mask. He felt more exposed like this than he ever did naked. 

Markus made a small choking noise before trying to cover it with a cough. "Uh, yeah. You, yeah this is definitely fine." 

Connor nodded and dug around his bag again before pulling out a book and sitting down on the bed crisscrossed. He was a little over halfway through, but he hadn't had as much time to read as he'd like. 

"What are you reading?" Markus asks, going back to painting. 

Connor looked up then back to his book, a real actually blush forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh nothing you'd be interested in." 

Markus turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Try me." 

Connor chuckled, looking up at him through his lashes. "It's… it's a criminology book? I was thinking about trying to be a detective if I ever got tired of this, but even if I don't it still fascinates me. My adopted father is a Lieutenant at the local police." 

It made him chuckle again when Markus's jaw dropped. No one would think his dad worked in law enforcement considering Connor's job. But in reality, Hank made sure he was safe and not pressured into anything. Plus Hank knew loopholes and even commented on how it should be legal so they can protect sex workers.

"I know, I know. He's actually really chill about it. Plus I make plenty of money so I can pay for college without going into debt." He had been putting away money for a while so he could live comfortably for the rest of his life. 

Markus nodded, "that's actually a good idea. I'm sure you'd make an incredible detective considering how intelligent you must be to be this good at your current job." 

"You really know a way to a man's heart." Connor chuckled and he meant it. Most people thought so lowly of escorts and prostitutes, saying they only did this because it was the only job they could do. When in reality you had to be quick on your feet and able to read people from just a glance. 

Markus shook his head, but he was smiling. "I just say what is true. You can put music on if you want. I don't know how you normally read." 

"Not in a fancy hotel with a man who won't sleep with me, that's for sure." Connor snarked before snapping his mouth closed. 

His worry disappeared when Markus fully laughed. "Ah, that's true. As I said, it's not that I don't want you. I just don't want to push you into anything." 

Connor sighed and leaned against the headboard. "I'm wounded, but I think I can survive." 

They went back to their own activities barely interacting unless Connor came across a particularly interesting part or Markus asked for his opinion. It was actually really nice and he found himself relaxing more and more. 

It wasn't like he had sex with every client. Some wanted him to be a date to an event, spend time with them for the week, or anything else. It wasn't always sex. 

Yet even this was different. There were no expectations at all. It was completely freeing. It just made his want that much stronger. Huh, that was a new turn on. 

It was late into the night when Connor started yawning. The soft sounds of Markus's brush strokes and Markus's humming was calming in a way he hadn't expected. He was warm and comfortable in the huge bed, and he was tempted to just fall asleep for the night. 

"You can sleep here if you want. I can take the couch or get another room." Markus said, making Connor's head snapped up. 

"Huh? Oh! No, no, no, it's ok. If anyone should take the couch it's me. You paid for the room, it's yours." He was most definitely not letting Markus take the couch. 

"No! Seriously you expected certain things and I didn't deliver. The least I can do is offer the bed." Markus whipped his hands and turned to face Connor. God damn this man was gorgeous. Could he be any more perfect? Maybe he had a really small dick and absolutely no stamina to make up for everything else. 

Connor huffed and closed his book. "Nope, not happening. The bed is big enough that we can easily share without bothering each other. I promise not to try anything." Just to show he scooted over and pat the bed. 

Markus frowned and looked around. "I...ok. let me get washed up first." Connor nodded and watched him grab his clothes and then watched as he went into the bathroom. 

The door closed and he let out a soft sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He didn't want this night to end. He knew it was a bad idea to actually connect with clients. Sure you can make semi-friends but never anything serious. Don't get attached. He knew if he let himself he'd get attached in some way. There was just a connection. 

He jumped slightly when the door opened back up. Had he really been falling asleep?

He looked up at Markus and wanted to scream. The man was wearing fuzzy robot pajamas pants without a shirt. It was an odd combination of sexy and adorable as hell. 

"Do you have a side you prefer?" Connor asked ready to move to whichever side was needed of him. 

"Either is fine, wherever you're comfortable." Markus said, stretching his arms above his head. 

Connor nodded and put his book to the side, taking his glasses off. He wiggles under the blankets, trying to get comfortable. 

Markus walked around and climbed in. Like Connor had said, the bed was so huge that he'd have to reach out his whole arm to be able to touch him. 

"Sleep well, Markus." Connor says, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. 

Markus did the same, and the room was flooded with darkness. "Sleep well, Connor." 

He falls asleep much faster than normal. Perhaps it was that the bed was just more comfortable, or maybe it was the company. 

When he woke up his back was pressed against something warm and soft. He knew it was Markus but he was still shocked. 

What was even more shocking and definitely welcome was the warm hand under his shirt and the very obvious hardness pressing into him. 

Markus was also most definitely asleep, and Connor sighed heavily. He was still half-asleep so it took even more in him to not press back. Markus definitely didn't have a small dick. Of course, he didn't. 

The slow and even breath on his neck made him shiver and close his eyes for a second. Then the hand was moving down and he arched into it. "Markus I swear if you're awake I'll murder you." He whispered. 

Markus sighed and moved his hips just slightly. Connor whined but tried to keep his voice down. This was so not fair. 

He was getting hard and he pushed back just slightly. Fuck. 

Maybe he could take care of himself without waking up Markus. Just get off then clean up. He could even leave right after so he wouldn't have to see how he'd react. He was off the clock so… 

He reached down, gently teasing himself. He should just do this quickly. He didn't know how long until Markus would wake up. 

The hand on him was so low but not low enough. It wasn't enough! "Fucking hell Markus," he whimpered. 

He increased the pressure but still didn't pull himself out. Not yet. He wanted to savor this. 

He tried to keep his noises down, keeping his hips still, and yet he kept pushing back. He wanted to touch Markus so bad. "Please. Please."

The hand on him stiffened and Connor froze. "Hm, Connor?" Markus says, his lips brushing against Connor's neck. Oh, that was not helping. Neither was Markus shifting against him, accidentally pulling him closer. 

"Do-don't." Connor whined, squeezing his eyes closed. He didn't know what he was pleading for, but he just wanted to continue so bad. 

"Shit! Uh, do you want me to leave? I'm so sorry." Markus said, trying to move away but Connor grabbed the arm. 

"You can stay, please stay. I want you." He really did. He wanted him so bad. He took Markus's hand and pressed it against his stomach. "You don't have to do anything."

"Fuck." Markus muttered, his hips twitching forward. "Are you sure? I… I don't want to overstep." 

Connor huffed rolling his eyes. "I don't wanna sleep with you just because it's my job, I want you to fuck me." He pressed back against him, sliding Markus's hand lower. 

"I don't know… um," Markus said, shifting again. His breath was fast and warm against Connor's neck. 

He wiggled his hips, pushing down his pants. He kept a hand over Markus's before taking himself and jumping slowly. "If, if you want to leave you can. But I will definitely not complain if you stay." 

Markus pulled him close and he could feel him. Oh. Oh, Markus wasn't wearing underwear either. Fuck that was hot. "Ok. Ok, I'll stay." 

Connor smiled and sped his hand up. "Yes! Yes, thank you." He babbled, tilting his head. He wanted Markus's lips on him. Thankfully Markus seemed to agree because soon Markus was pressing feather-light kisses to his neck. 

"You're so beautiful." Markus mumbled, moving his hand down lower to cover Connor's as he stroked himself. 

Connor bucked his hips, trying to get more. It wasn't enough. He needed more. "Markus, please." 

Markus nodded and pulled his own pants down, freely rubbing himself against Connor. "I've got you. What do you need, baby?" 

Oh, that was good. That was delicious. "You. Anything you want. I just need more."

Markus pressed hot kisses down his neck, nipping just slightly. Not enough to leave marks but it made him whine. "Are you sure? Connor… this isn't because of…" he trailed off. 

Connor turned and pressed Markus back into the bed, straddling him. "If you ask me that one more time I'm chopping your annoyingly large dick off." 

Markus's eyes went wide, and he placed his hands on Connor's hips. "Alright, I definitely wouldn't want that." 

"Thank fuck." Connor chuckled before leaning down and crushing their lips together. Markus's lips were so warm and just slightly rough from Markus chewing on them.

He rocked their hips together trying to get more friction. "Are you willing to fuck me? I can fuck you but I've been dying for you in me all night." 

Markus panted, nodding his head. "Definitely. God, you looked amazing yesterday, but then you changed and I nearly lost it. You looked so soft and fuckable." 

Connor whined, rolling his hips down. "Yes, yes please. I've got a condom and lube in my bag. I'm clean." 

Markus nodded and flipped them over which was way too fucking hot. Apparently, he noticed the shocked expression because he kissed him with a chuckle. "I work out." 

"That you do." He said he panted as Markus got off, grabbing Connor's bag and digging around. 

"Sorry, should have asked but I feared for my annoying large cock." Markus said, pulling out a condom and lube. 

"I used the word dick, but I think you can be forgiven if you hurry the fuck up." If he wasn't being fucked within the hour he wasn't going to scream and maybe cry. 

"My bad, my annoyingly large dick." Markus crawled back into the bed, moving in between Connor's legs. "Alright, how do you like this?" 

Connor spread his legs, getting into a good position. "However you want but I do require that I actually get fucked. Even if I come you gotta fuck me until I can't walk. Deal?" He offered his hand and Markus chuckled. 

Markus took his hand, shaking it before using it to pull Connor up and into a searing kiss. "I think I can do that baby boy," Markus mumbled before pushing him back into the bed. 

Connor let him, spreading himself even wider. He took deep breaths, easily relaxing even when Markus gently pushed against his hole. 

"There we go," Markus mumbled before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. Connor whined, arching his back. His thighs were so sensitive and no one ever kissed him this gently, this lovingly. It broke his heart. 

"Markus," he sighed, eyes fluttering closed. Markus hummed and did the same for his other thigh. 

Then he was nipping at him, sucking slightly on the skin as he pushed his finger in. He would definitely leave marks here. For some reason, he didn't want anyone to see these marks or touch them. He didn't want anyone kissing them and trying to mark over these. These were just for him. 

Markus was so slow and gentle, but Connor could tell he was holding back. He knew there was an urgency and want behind every movement and soft touch. 

Yet Markus held back for him. It was odd being on the receiving end. Just being able to lay back and take just because he wanted it and not because someone was paying him to. This was for him as much as it was for Markus. He felt truly beautiful. 

Markus kissed his hips, using his free hand to gently run a hand down his side. "You're amazing. You're doing really well." Markus says, pushing in a second finger. 

He had had so many people that tried to rush this but Markus seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. "Markus!" He sighed, arching his back and trying to push down into his hand. 

Markus chuckled slightly, "so needy. How many do you normally need?" 

"Most stop at two." Connor says, mind fuzzy with pleasure and want. 

"I didn't ask what other people did to you, I asked what you need. I don't want to hurt you. So I'll ask again, baby, how many do you normally need?" Oh, that tone of voice was unfair. It was raspy and demanding and so very in control. 

"Um, three without too much of a stretch but for you… I, um, three. I wanna feel it." He wanted that burning stretch like never before. 

Markus nodded and slowly added a third finger. "Alright, I'll be slow and gentle. If you need me to stop or go slower at all let me know." 

"I… ok," he nodded. Markus was being so kind. Yet that hurt more than any physical pain he'd been in, and one rather angry woman liked to whip people. Wasn't the best night considering she didn't really like it when he asked for her to stop. 

Markus paused, frowning. "Are you alright? We can stop if you want." His hand paused and Connor felt like screaming. It was such an odd mixture of emotions. 

"Please don't stop! I'm, just not used to this." That was the worst description ever. 

"Wait, I thought… has no one?" Markus asks, pulling his fingers out. Connor groaned and instantly missed the feeling. 

"No! Yes, yes I've done this in the physical sense, but not," he waved his hand between them, "this? You're, you want me to feel good and you're taking your time. I haven't had anyone do this in a long time." 

Markus blinks at him before his jaw drops. "Are you saying no one ever pleasured you before? If they were too rough you… you could tell them to stop right?" Oh, this sweet, sweet boy. 

"Well yes, they still have to pay for my time, but it's different. I do get pleasure out of it, but it's never just for me. If I'm being fucked then the person wants me to be. I want this. I want you. And not just… you're kind, Markus." He said, sitting up and gently holding his face. "Kinder than I'd ever imagined. You could be the snottiest man on the planet and yet you turned down a prostitute who had already been paid for and was willing because of your morals. None of my clients would ever do that. I'd like to think some would, but they just need the release or a date. Someone pretty on their arm so they bought me." 

That didn't mean he didn't enjoy his job. He loved being pampered and could have as much sex as he wanted and get paid for it. He was living the dream, but it was also nice to have this. Something so soft and gentle, and kind. 

Then Markus was leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips like he would break. And he loved it. He loved the way he cradled his head and gently pressed into him. He loved the calluses on Markus's hands as they intertwined their fingers. 

He was slowly leaned down back onto the bed, Markus's hands slowly searching his body. He had a few small scars from when clients took it too far, but Markus traced each one like he was a masterpiece. It made him shiver and whine, pushing against the hand. 

"You really are beautiful, Connor. All of you." Markus mumbled, pulling back to kiss down his jaw. He raised his other hand to gently card through Connor's hair, pulling at it just slightly so he'd tilt his head. He gladly did, sighing when Markus's lips trailed down his neck. 

"Hmph, fuck," Connor muttered, biting his bottom lip. This was too good. He doubted anyone will ever be able to compare to this. Damn it. 

"You don't have to muffle yourself, baby, I want to hear you." Markus mumbled against his skin. Connor was sure his entire body was going to be kissed and he was completely ok with that. More than just ok, really. 

Markus took his time finding every little spot that made him whine and buck his hips. He was almost in tears from want when he finally grabbed the lube again. 

He was still somewhat stretched so Markus started with two fingers, slowly stretching and exploring. "So amazing. I can't wait to be in you." Markus muttered. It was so quiet Connor could barely hear him. Markus had said that to himself, and it sent a thrill through Connor. 

"Fuck me! Please, I need it, you." He whined, rocking his hips down. Markus smirked and put a third finger in, moving his hand a bit faster. Connor whimpered and gripped the sheets of the bed, hips moving uncontrollably. 

He yelped when his dick was enveloped in the warm heat of Markus's mouth. He bobbed his head before sucking on the head, swirling his tongue around the top. 

Connor bucked into his mouth, almost choking him. He rambled his apology which quickly turned into pleading. 

Markus took him down again, hollowing his cheeks and running his along the underside. 

"Fuck! Fuck, stop I won't last much longer!" Connor begged. He wanted to come with Markus in him. It took Markus an agonizingly long time to pull off, licking his lips once he does. 

"Damn I could just do that and be happy. You make the best sounds. But I think I should give you what you finally want." Markus said, slowly pulling his fingers out. 

Connor quickly nodded trying to spread his legs even more (he is very proud of his flexibility, he has all of his splits). 

"How do you like this?" Markus asks, tearing the seal off the condom then throwing the wrapper off the bed. He easily slides it on and Connor is drooling. 

Wait, right Markus had asked him a question. That dick was definitely a blessing, Jesus Christ. He really wanted to suck on that but held back. "Like this works… I want to see you." 

Markus smiled and gently brushed a few curly strands of hair out of Connor's face. "I can do that." 

Oh, this was definitely gonna hurt and he couldn't wait. Thankfully Markus wasn't stalling either. He moved closer, carefully lining up before looking down at Connor. 

He took one of his hands and laced their fingers together before pushing in. Connor whined, squeezing his eyes shut and Markus instantly stopped. "Fuck you, I did not say to stop, you ass." He growled out. 

He heard Markus chuckle and Connor forced his body to relax. It was just a good pain, one he'd like to take every day if Markus let him. 

Once Markus bottomed out they both stilled, panting for air. Markus used his free hand to brush through his hair again, pressing a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead. 

They stay still until Connor gives a small nod. Markus slowly slides out and slowly pushes back in. It's too slow, he wraps his legs around Markus and pulls in back in roughly, sighing when it finally creates the friction he wants. "Yes!" 

Markus grunts, chuckling softly. "Fuck, ok." Then he sped up, rocking his hips at a fast but consistent speed. 

Connor rocks his hips in time, panting into Markus's kiss. He moaned praises and pleads, mind hazy. It was too good. It all felt too good. 

Markus's hands on him, keeping him down but also driving him insane. He took one and put it in his hair, which thankfully Markus completely understood. He tugged on just enough and Connor whimpered. 

It was also too much but not enough. He was so, so close. "Please, Markus I need…" 

Markus nodded, tugging Connor's hair so he could bite at his neck. "What do you need, baby?"

"I, I uh, I don't know." He hated how whiny he sounded but Markus just seemed to soak it all up. "Ah, Markus!" 

He hit the spot and Connor almost cried. "Such a good boy, good beautiful baby boy." Markus said, his hips spasming slightly. 

Connor choked and his vision blurred slightly, coming without any warning. 

His whole body turned limp and Markus groaned, his hips snapping forward. There was so much but Markus didn't stop. He was so sensitive but he loved it. 

"I'm close, baby, you ok?" Markus asked. Connor nodded, hips and legs trembling. He was more than ok. This was ecstasy. 

Sadly it didn't take too much longer until Markus froze and Connor wished he hadn't mentioned a condom. He wanted to be filled and maybe even plug himself so he could keep it in him the rest of the day. 

Markus took his time sliding out before taking the condom off, tying then tossing it in the trash. He flopped down onto the bed, pulling Connor to his chest. "This ok?" He mumbled. 

Connor nodded, wrapping himself around it. "That was the best I've had in a long time. You're amazing." He said, pressing a kiss to Markus's chest. 

Markus chuckled, gently soothing Connor's hair. "Why thank you." 

Connor hummed, closing his eyes and just basking in the warmth and happiness. He never wanted to leave his bed. 

He would have to, though. He'd have to forget all of this. If he didn't then he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about what happened or Markus. He'd never be able to forget the comfort of Markus's arms or the tenderness and adoration in the way he touched him. 

He hadn't even realized he started crying until Markus gently wiped away a tear. "Hey, you ok? Did I hurt you?" 

Connor sniffled, trying to hide his face. "No, you didn't. I'm… happy?" 

He was but he was also so sad. "I should probably leave." He said, pushing away from Markus. 

"Wait, what? I have this room until tomorrow. Do you have work?" He asks, running a hand down Connor's back as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

The way he seemed to completely respect that it was work. He didn't judge him for it at all. "I… I have to, I…" he trailed off, shaking his head. 

"You have to what?" Markus asks, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "What do you need to do?" 

Connor roughly brushed his tears away. "I have to forget you. I can't… you're too good. I can't get attached. I'm sorry." He shook his head and stood, grabbing his bag and clothes. 

Markus was quick to follow him, tripling on a blanket. "Wait, Connor hold on!" 

Connor shook his head, trying to pull on his clothes. It was too much. This was all too much. 

He was quickly turned and pressed against the wall by Markus's strong hands. "Connor, wait." 

He ducked his head, hiding behind the strands of curly hair that fell into his face. "Please don't." He whimpered. 

Markus sighed, softly trailing his hands up and down Connor's arm, making him shiver. "Connor, hey, talk to me. I'm not here to judge." 

"I can't get attached, it's the worst thing to do in this profession. I can't stop just because someone I like asks me to. No matter how mind-blowing the sex is." No matter how beautiful and wanted it made him feel. 

Markus shook his head, brushing the hair out of his face. "I'd never ask you to stop. I… I'm not going to push you for anything you don't want. Maybe we can just be friends? There's just something about you." 

Connor knew exactly what he meant. It was like their bodies and minds were two puzzle pieces that fit seamlessly together. Friends. "I… I don't know." 

"We don't have to have any sex. Maybe just hang out whenever we're both free. I think North would adore you… oh, actually you meeting would be a very bad idea." Markus said, frowning. 

He tilted his head, "wait, why?" Wasn't she the one that had actually paid for him?

"I would not stand a chance if you two teamed up. Terrifying to think about." Markus smirked and Connor huffed. 

"Alright, friends. I guess we can start the whole no sex thing tomorrow." He said before leaning in to Markus. 

"So needy," Markus said, shaking his head fondly. 

"You love it," he whispered, pressing his lips against Markus's neck. 

"That I do."

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 2

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

Words: 3810

"So how do we do this?" Sam asked.

He was brushing his teeth with the door open so he could glance at Bucky, who sat on the edge of Sam's bed. He was going to give his friend the bed back once they fully decided to go to sleep and Bucky took the couch, again, but for now, he was enjoying the comfort of a bedroom. He always did find comfort in Sam and his hospitality, after all. He remembered that one Christmas the Barnes spent in the French Alps, the one Bucky avoided because he had just broken up with Rumlow for the first time; Sam was kind enough to invite him to the Wilsons for the holidays, and that was when Bucky realized where his friend got his charm and kindness. Sam's entire family were the most welcoming people Bucky had ever encountered, which made him wish he had been born into a home like that.

As Sam spit the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, Bucky thought of the specificities of their plan. At the realization that, if his parents had sat through several different relationships with the same Brock Rumlow, they probably wouldn't blink at the sight of a new man, he felt that the plan wouldn't be too complicated after all.

"I don't know." He shrugged, "Can you pretend to be gay?"

While Bucky's question was asked nonchalantly, Sam received it like a suckerpunch. It was supposed to be an easy answer, however the topic was a delicate one for Sam. Not that Bucky knew anything about it, but Sam kept a few secrets to himself. And since his friend had only ever seen him dating girls...

"Easy peasy." Sam faked a smile before cleaning his chin with a clean towel, "It's pretending I like you that's gonna be tough." He joked.

"Funny." Bucky said without a hint of amusement.

Eventually, Sam returned to his original concerns. The stakes weren't too high for him, but if Bucky got caught with this, he would never hear the end of it. Who knew what his parents would put him through, and Bucky had already mentioned something about being banned from the annual hunt for life, losing all hopes of ever getting the slightest fraction of Nana's money. Those two million dollars could mean everything to Bucky, so they really had to put on a show.

He walked back to his room and gestured his guest to give him some room, next to him. Bucky granted him the space, and they both sat in their own seriousness.

"No, but seriously, do we have to kiss and stuff?" Sam asked.

Bucky reflected on it.

"Maybe. I mean, we gotta make it believable."

The other man nodded, taking in the idea of kissing Bucky, even if just for an act, until Bucky's words caught him by surprise.

"Wanna practice?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, and cleared his throat with nervousness, "Uh, sure."

Nevertheless, he was met by a very amused Bucky, who happened to have been holding in his laughter. When he cracked up, falling back on the bed with pride on his own joke, Sam de-tensed.

"I'm kidding, dude." He threw a light punch to Sam's back, "We pro'ly won't even kiss through the entire week. Family's real uptight when they wanna be."

Sam let out a breath only he could hear, hopefully, and pretended to be comfortable with the entire situation.

"Okay, but if we do have to kiss, it better look real."

-

Day 1.

The time had come, and spirits weren't great. Sam had his shit together, luckily, but Bucky wasn't as confident. In the ride from the station to the lake house, they both sat at the back of the taxi, trying to prepare for the upcoming week. Eight full days of acting couldn't be too easy, but Sam was calm.

James looked the polar opposite, as he tried to keep his cool, mumbling to himself.

"Deep breaths." He told Sam like he was doing the calming for both of them, and it brought a small smirk to Sam's lips.

He watched his friend breathe in and out with his eyes closed, and he feared he might have a mental breakdown before they even got the chance to reach the house.

"Hey, I got this." He reminded Bucky, in attempts to ease his worries.

"God, I really hope you do."

Suddenly, the panoramic of the gigantic residence came to their field of vision. The two-story house had direct access to the lake, along with stored kayaks and sailing equipment. There was a -- floating there, unused, marking the family's possessions, and facing the big garden that separated the house from the water.

As soon as the vehicle stopped in the entrance, an employee came out to take care of their bags. Sam gave Bucky an odd look, himself not being used to maids and being served like that, to which Bucky only pressed his lips together. That's the Barnes way.

"Oh, come inside!" Bucky's mother welcomed them, ushering them inside.

They both obeyed and walked up the three steps to the door, finally entering the house. Before either of them got the chance to speak, though, Winnifred began theatricalizing.

"You poor things, it's so hot outside!" she lamented while pressing a hand to her chest.

Bucky tried, and failed, to reject her drama, "It's not that-"

"You must be Samuel." She ignored her son, and continued to ramble over Sam's attempts to at least say hello, "You want a drink? It's too hot."

The guest eyed Bucky, who was just staring into nothingness. If his eyes could speak, they would have been saying 'yep, sounds about right.'

"Uh, sure." Sam accepted, "Thank you, ma'am. I'm so glad-"

"There he is!" he was cut off by Bucky's father, who walked into the welcoming hall with his arms extended, "The man of the hour."

The two men shook hands.

"Sir." Sam nodded.

"Oh, please, it's George."

Sam opened his mouth to say something polite, when the woman interrupted him once more.

"And Winnifred." She added.

This time, Sam waited for a gap in the conversation. He hadn't been able to lay out a single sentence to the married couple, so he awkwardly waited for them to interrupt him, but when the silence extended for too long, he smiled, nervously.

"George and Winnifred, then." He agreed, nodding, "It's nice to meet you."

"James tells me you teach." Winnifred jumped right into the discussion.

"I do." Sam smiled, "History."

"Which school?"

"Mom, don't be a snob." Bucky warned her.

"I'm just asking him a question." She pledged innocence, as usual.

As much as the question of academic elitism bothered Sam, he had to remain polite. He hated gratifying rich people like that by disclosing the snob university where he worked. Sometimes he wanted to quit and go back to where he started, small high schools, poorly funded programs... for now, though, he had unpaid student debt and a two million dollar hunt to win.

"It's alright." He bit back his pride and dismissed it, "I'm teaching at Princeton right now."

Winnifred raised her eyebrows with one half excitement and one half surprise.

"That's a fine school." She showed how impressed she was.

The woman probably thought Bucky couldn't do better than the family friend business trash. She probably figured her son was too stupid for a Princeton professor, much less to settle down with one. It didn't add to the bad image Sam already had of her.

"I have some contacts in Harvard, could get you a spot." George butt in.

"Dad."

"Thank you, sir, that's not necessary." Sam rejected very gracefully, "I love my job and I certainly can't leave my students."

George gave him a respectful nod, while Winnifred gave his son a look, one that yelled well done. The interaction had gone better than any of them had expected, making Bucky forget every concern he had before. When they moved to the living room, which was right next door, the fake couple exchanged some victorious glances. Feeling much more confident now, Bucky pointed to the old lady sitting at the end of the room.

"Sam, I'm honored to introduce you to Nana Barnes." He dramatized in order to annoy the woman.

She looked like the kind of grandmother who had strong opinions on people and therefore, favorites, and Bucky sure acted like the favorite, teasing her with the confidence that she wouldn't mind. Nana didn't bother standing up. She was wearing a conservative black dress, reading glasses and she held a glass of Champaign on her hand. The matriarch look suited her wonderfully.

"I've heard many good things." Sam approached her, extending his hand.

While shaking the young man's hand, Nana eyed him up and down.

"You're handsome." She said in a powerful tone, "Much better looking than the last one."

Nervously, Sam fixed his tie and cleared his throat.

"Thank you." He frowned amusingly, not sure if he was meant to take the compliment or not.

"Are you an idiot like him?"

Sam tilted his head, "Excuse me?"

"That Rumlow boy, he was an ass. Couldn't tell his south from his north. Now, are you a smart man?"

Sam looked back at Bucky, who merely gave him a thumbs up as he backed away and left the two alone. It was only then that Sam noticed Bucky's parents had abandoned him as well. He accepted his situation, and sat down on the chair next to her.

"I... like to think so." He smiled, "I sure hope so, or else I'm teaching the next generation to be just as dumb."

"Ah, so I've heard." She spoke like it was the first thing she fully approved of, "It's a nice break from all the dull business men in our family. Is Jamie planning to live off your Princeton check?"

This time, the harsh question caught him less off-guard, "No, ma'am, I'm just helping him get back on his feet."

The lady narrowed her eyes like she was quizzing the new boyfriend.

"How long have you known my grandson?"

The fake couple had prepared a whole concocted tale, but right there, in front of the matriarch who worshipped the truth, he figured telling her the real story wouldn't hurt.

"I don't even know. Probably... six years?" the realness behind his words made Nana seem interested, "We met through other people, next thing I know we're best friends for good. Couldn't shake him off my back."

The woman laughed, "He can't help it, the Barnes have bloodsucker in their DNA."

Bucky had mentioned at some point, how the woman referred to the Barnes as simply the family she had married into when it came to pointing out their flaws, yet called herself a Barnes when it suited her. Sam, however, held in any type of snarky comment or laughter, and made an effort to remain excessively polite. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the façade for long, or at least not for the entire week, so he made sure to make the best first impression possible.

"No, Bucky's not like that.” He defended the man, although he immediately decided against contradicting the matriarch; he raised one hand in retreat, “I mean, you've known him all his life, so what do I know? But, uh… he's not that kind of friend."

The last word brought a smear of annoyance to the woman’s features, considering Sam had used it twice already.

"You can say boyfriend, Samuel, I'm not a prude." She protested.

Suddenly, Sam realized he was being too genuine. The way he spoke about Bucky was so truthful, he forgot for a second that he was meant to pretend to be his loving partner.

"Yes, boyfriend. Sorry."

In the welcoming hall, Bucky was thanking the service for getting his bags upstairs. He noticed a taxi parked outside, and he figured his cousin or one of his uncles had arrived, but as he wiped sweat from his forehead, the door opened, and his sister Rebecca walked in. As to be expected, she was dressed to impress in a light blue skirt and a sunny hat, wearing the additional drops of sweat that fell down her neck like an accessory.

"What are you doing here?” Bucky ambushed her, not too happy to see her, “You said you wouldn't make it."

The young woman didn’t seem offended by her welcoming, for she knew she was about to lie.

"I decided to spend some time with my family." She smiled brightly, reaching to hug her brother.

"Bull.” He stopped her. “What happened?"

Rebecca sighed, "Why do you always assume something's happened?"

"Because I'm the one picking up your slacks and shoving it under the rug." Bucky spat, looking around to check that nobody was listening.

"My hero." She rolled her eyes.

"Someone has to keep making you look perfect."

The words hit her, but she didn’t wince. Her face fell minimally, which was her own way of accepting it. Bucky was right, after all, because for years he had helped her out in every singl one of her fuck-ups, never asking for anything back, which resulted in their parents beliving their little girl to be a practical angel, while James remained the family screw up. The thing was, both siblings were emotional trainwrecks, but Bucky was the only one who got any backlash for it.

"So what was it?” he asked again, this time much more relaxed, “Boyfriend? Boyfriend's wife?"

"Actually...” Rebecca lowered her voice, “It's money. I need to win the hunt this year."

Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. Rebecca had only joined the family vacations to ruin his plans.

"I need to win the hunt this year." He was quick to shake his head.

"You don't understand, I owe a shit ton or money, James.” Unfortunately, his sister was just as enthusiastic about her own issues, “It's bad."

"Then get a loan from dad." He proposed in a very order-like tone, for he knew their father would give Rebecca money, while never offering Bucky a penny.

"He can't know I'm in debt!" she whisper-shouted.

Bucky took a deep breath and massaged his temples, still in disbelief that they were in this situation to begin with. He had brought his best friend into this, for all sakes. He couldn’t lose the money to his little sister. He wanted to explain to her how he was penny-less and had been enduring their parent’s hellfire for weeks, but Rebecca already knew that, and if that alone didn’t bring out her empathy, no amount of persuasion would. He wanted to tell her exactly what kind of treatment he had received in their parent’s house, but of course, Rebecca must have already guessed.

As much as he wanted to keep fighting, Sam joined them, and the two siblings were distracted from the argument.

"Samuel Wilson, why on earth are you in this shithole?"

Sam was baffled, as they hadn’t even spent half an hour there, and things were already not going according to plan. Bucky had sworn Rebecca wouldn’t be there, which was good, because Rebecca knew Sam and she knew that their relationship was not at all romantic.

"Good to see you too." He said, trying his best to ignore her obvious confusion and walking closer to Bucky, "Uh, your folks-"

"Sweetheart, you made it!" Winnifred’s exclamation echoed across the room.

"Of course, mama." Rebecca faked enthusiasm as she opened her arms.

"I see you've met Jamie's boyfriend." The siblings’ mother remarked as she gave Rebecca a quick hug.

Even before the contact was over, Rebecca was frowning.

"Boyfriend?"

Think, quickly.

"Yes, boyfriend. “ Bucky said loudly; perhaps too loudly to be believable, “We didn't wanna say. Thanks for ruining the newsbreak, mom." He faked discourage.

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest, "No, you're not."

Desperate to play it out, Sam pressed a hand to the low of Bucky’s back, in an attempt to show affection and commodity with one another. Bucky, however, froze a little, because it was the first time Sam had done something like that and it felt more than just odd.

"We sure are." Sam grinned.

"Yeah, it just..." Bucky failed to imitate his fake boyfriend’s confidence as he scratched his brow and struggled with words, "Just sort of happened. We were going to tell you."

The room went silent, and Rebecca definitely wasn’t convinced. In fact, she saw straight through both of them and deciphered the truth behind the masquerade in a matter of seconds, which didn’t amuse her at all. They were going to take her prize away.

"Bucky's cheating." She said.

"Excuse me?” Winnifred opened her eyes wide, offended at what the accusation implied.

"At the hunt.” The young woman continued, earning a pleading look from her brother, who begged her not to out his lies; thankfully, she proceeded with a mocking tone, “He knows Nana's biased for couples, so he dragged his boyfriend to this freakshow."

Both Sam and Bucky felt like they had been given a second life, and they quickly laughed it off to dissimulate. Winnifred made a comment about her daughter’s choice of words while they all moved back to the living room, and although what had just happened was a sign that Rebecca wouldn’t out them, all three involved never got their eyes off each other.

-

Dinnertime was an event for the whole family. Others had arrived with their own luggage, setting three different generations in one table. Sam could only feel how strongly out of place he was, among the fancy drinks and conversations about business and family companies. He was learning a hell of a lot about Bucky’s family, though. The fortune was earned by the parents of the deceased grandfather, and he had been the one to ‘make them all rich assholes’, according to Bucky’s words.

"Aside from us and Becca, everyone here just wants to win the hunt for their ego.” He explained in whispers, leaning closer to Sam to not be overheard by the rest of the family, “It's just a fun tradition to them."

"I bet it's fun, getting four millions a year." Sam snorted quietly.

It made Bucky laugh, which got the attention of his aunt. She eyed the couple like they were just so cute together, and it only then occurred to Bucky that maybe they did.

"Oh, I forgot about Uncle Milo.” He gestured to an old and nice-looking man at the other end of the table. “Grandpa Theodore's brother, he's after the fortune."

Sam didn’t believe his friend, for it sounded like cliché rich family drama, something out of a soap opera. However, the young Barnes explained that the cliché was real, and that Uncle Milo had gambled his share of the fortune away, so he maintained his proximity to Nana in a desperate attempt to get it all back, the money, the house, everything. He soon continued explaining the rest of the less relevant characters: George's brother Teddy and his wife Andrea, who had a son about their age; cousin Colin. He was a dull creature and he looked like he'd come out of a Lacoste magazine, both him and his Ivy-league-college-sweetheart fiancée did. The third Barnes sibling was Aunt Ida, who had no children but was happily divorced.

“Are we all done with desert?” Nana stood up from her chair.

Cousin Colin raised his fork to speak and say that he hadn’t, but Nana didn’t seem to care.

“Wonderful. Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“No speech, Nana?” Bucky teased her.

“No, you’re all well aware. Except for Samuel, but he’s a smart man, he’ll catch up.” She winked at him.

That was apparently a good sign. She liked Sam.

“The first clue is very easy: just the meaning behind it all.” The woman chuckled at the end of her sentence, earning a few confused looks, “I didn’t hide it very well. You’ll find it if you search for it.”

Every guest remained seated. Knowing the woman, she wasn’t kidding, and this was just a riddle they were supposed to decipher, but they never failed to give her the benefit of the doubt that perhaps, just maybe one time, she would give them a real clue instead of messing with them as much as she could. Nana raised her glass of Champaign as a toast.

“Happy Hunting.” She smirked to the glass before chugging it down.

-

They seemed to be walking around aimlessly, just as the rest of the participants. This sounded like more of a mental riddle to fix by themselves, instead of an actual clue that was hidden somewhere. Bucky had the idea to look around grandpa Theodore’s old room in search for something emotional, although that didn’t sound like Nana, but she had told them to look for the meaning behind it all- she could have meant the meaning of the hunt. When Sam’s brain clicked, he grabbed Bucky’s arm to stop him.

"I got an idea." He announced.

Bucky glanced down at his arm, which was still being held by Sam.

"What're you thinking?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing you guys have a library?"

Bucky nodded, "Smart."

Once they found the library, they were submerged in stillness. They shut the door so they wouldn’t give anyone else the same idea, and turned on the lights; the room was probably the calmest one in the entire house. There were high shelves with old books, two dusty reading chairs and a coffee table. Sam figured he wouldn’t mind spending some time there.

"What are we looking for?" James asked in a low voice.

Sam ran his fingers through the shelves for a few seconds, lurking for that one specific piece of literature he had in mind.

“Viktor Frankl.” Sam mumbled, concentrated on his task.

When he found the title, he pulled the book out and offered it to Bucky. Man’s search for meaning, 1946. It was too classical for fancy college men not to have heard of it, but the riddle was a tad too complicated for them. It was as if Nana had expected Sam to guess it first. Bucky caressed the cover, taking in the title and internally understanding the joke. The meaning behind it all. You’ll find it if you search for it.

He let a soft chuckle escape his lips as he opened the book and searched through the pages. Sam leaned in too close, over his shoulder, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel weird at the sensation of Sam’s breath hitting the back of his neck. He didn’t believe it was okay to even notice that sort of thing.

Suddenly, an envelope fell from the book, and Bucky looked back at Sam with amusement.

“That tricky old hag.” He laughed.

-

A/N: I know this wasn’t too exciting lol but it was more of an introduction chapter:/ next part will have your much needed fluff and intensity! Thank you so much for reading xx

[katcadecascade]

New Qrow fic WIP

It’s a bit of a character study but mostly RWBY/JNOR/more doing shenanigans.

The only problem, I can’t think of a name for this fic.

Anyway here, Chapter One/Round One: Throwing Down the Gauntlet

Blake will admit, she’s a sucker for romance.

How could she not be?

In a world where morbid emotions attract monsters, where injustice breeds from hatred of culture and birth traits, something as simple and layered as love is beautiful and strong and can power people through their darkest moments but also bring them to their knees.

She should say she just learned this all from her books but honestly in the last year or so, Blake has certainly lived through some crazy shit.

But let’s not get into that right now.

Sure her tale begins with her people’s suffering, her parent’s pacifism, a poor boy’s spite, and her own frightful shadows. She could go write to great lengths on how the journey gained her treasured friends, bonds forged through fire, and how it lead them to the coldest place of the north.

That’s where this game begins.

Yes a game indeed or maybe a war by the sharpness in the Valkyrie’s eyes or the telltale song notes of glyphs charging up.

It began with a series of events that piqued the interest of the eight (and later on more) charges under the wings of Qrow Branwen.

The first thing they noticed took place on their very first night in Atlas, where one General James Ironwood hugged the scythe master. The two thought they were alone but the nieces back tracked to get their uncle.

While they made the wise decision to leave the men alone, the girls immediately blurted their findings to the rest of their friends.

Their reactions were of surprise and cooing but it only trigger their radars to look out for more of these moments. None of them could recall ever seeing Qrow be so vulnerable with anyone else. Granted they didn’t spend the most time with him but even Yang and Ruby were caught off guard.

This was their uncle so ultimately this was under Yang’s and Ruby’s discretion or wonderment.

That didn’t stop the rest of them from being curious to see what else will happen between Qrow and Ironwood.

Small and subtle were the ways of the General, lingering eyes or the quietly inviting the huntsman into his office. Ruby’s sniper skills were used for observations like these. Her skills in stealth could’ve been better to muffle her cooing.

Things were going steady, slowly seeing the man underneath the steel. Maybe then the kids could decide to trust him with the truth from the Lamp. Not that Qrow’s compromised in anyway, but seeing this spark between them certainly helps the kids trust the general a little bit more.

James Ironwood appeared to be able to offer up his heart to Qrow.

So imagine their surprise when Clover Ebi entered the game.

There’s that word again: game.

It’s a little immature to describe it as so but Blake couldn’t think of any other word.

Blake and the others keep noticing certain events focused on Qrow, usually engaged by one man or the other.

Small side glances, a brushing of hands, coffee treats and many more that can be listed as intimate or thoughtful or purposeful. Although, Clover’s flirting are rather forward. Most importantly, Qrow’s happiness is the growing outcome.

And pray tell what game is this? Where two men woo a common thread that is slowly becoming enamored by these actions?

A courting game.

Hands slam down on the kitchen table. “Everyone, place your bets!”

“We are so not betting on this!” Weiss crossed her arms, perfectly poised and unmoved.

“Come on,” Nora whined, “There’s nothing else to do here.”

“Aside from doing our jobs and brainstorming how to save the world?”

“All I’m saying is that we need a break from all the seriousness and focus on Team Dad.”

On the couches, only Blake noticed the resident nieces share a glance. They don’t argue against their uncle’s title, instead they quirk their lips in a knowing look.

(Blake later understands their silent exchanges when a game changer occurs)

“Nora’s right,” Jaune agreed, “and I usually never want to say that.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who broke the coffee machine by trying to fix it,” Oscar pointed out. Behind him said device has a despairing groan.

Ruby follows up, “And then got the rest of us blaming each other for it.”

“Enough, enough,” the redhead shouted, “We’re getting off track!”

“We are not conspiring on Qrow’s love life!” Weiss proclaimed.

“She’s right,” Ren said with the composure of a sage, highlighted as he sipped his tea, “There’s no need to.”

Yang raised an eyebrow, both curious and surprised, “What do you mean?”

Everyone waited for their resident ninja to finish another long drink, for dramatic effect Blake must note.

Then simply enough, he answers, “Qrow would fall for the General.”

That was clearly not the answer Nora wanted.

She’s a sputtering mess while next to her, Weiss holds her head high.

“Thank you, someone else sees my point,” the ex-heiress nods.

Sharpness in Jaune’s voice catches her off guard, “Your point? You think Ironwood’s gonna get with Qrow?”

“Is it not obvious?”

Nora butts in, a strange tension in her shoulders, “Sure yeah but look at Clover!”

Her team leader listed off, “They’re mission partners but also hanging around each off in their downtime.”

“Yes,” Nora nods enthusiastically, “Just like Jaune with Marrow.”

“H-hey wait-“

“You haven’t seen Qrow with James alone though.”

Again, everyone is quiet as they stare down their resident cute wizard boy.

Oscar squirms a little under the attention, backtracking, “Oh, um, I only mean um I would see them right before James tutors me? And Qrow would sometimes be there too and,” he sighs heavily, “honestly it’s like my aunt’s romance novels.”

Blake immediately guesses the classic tropes of longing, quiet vulnerability, trust and intimacy. She doesn’t voice her thoughts. No need since Weiss happily regales her own findings.

“Winter says that she’s never seen Ironwood so relaxed before. Sure she’s a little teed that it was Qrow’s doing but the results are still good.”

“But what about Qrow’s ‘results’ when he’s with Clover,” Nora argued.

Ruby does her little head shake, musing over her thoughts, “He is a lot calmer or relaxed.”

Nora cackles at the fuming Weiss, affronted at her girlfriend not on her side.

That’s rectified as Ruby taps her chin, scholarly and not noticing Weiss’ heat, “Although he is a lot more teasing around Ironwood.”

“See!” Weiss grins as if this is victory. Her current rival is unbothered.

“He’s the same with Clover,” Nora counters and honestly Weiss can’t possibly argue with that.

Too many times have the kids witness Qrow becoming a bumbling, blushing mess when Clover compliments him. There’s so much bi/gay tension there to even think of denying.

“Qrow must be taking his time then,” Blake voiced. “With both Ironwood and Clover, maybe he’s a bit overwhelmed.”

Next to her, Yang sighs, “Knowing him, he might not realize what’s going on unless someone tells him.”

“Or he’s aware of all of this happening and dismisses it as something that can’t actually happen to him,” Jaune painfully accurately describes as what is probably going on.

This type of denial of happiness, this consuming pit of numbness and pain, people who loved and lost and felt guilty for even loving and losing need to be told they’re deserving of love.

Maybe Jaune’s speaking for himself or maybe Blake’s interpreting for her own experiences.

But one shared glance with the knight confirms her thoughts. Qrow must have talked to him too about this type of grief.

The blame and the guilt and the responsibility of losing someone, be it person of goodness or of spite, it’s a heavy feeling that Blake, Jaune, Qrow and possible the others too have carry.

So while the huntsman tries to assure the two kids of their grievances, there hasn’t been an opportune time to ask how he’s coping. As the young adults under his care, they all worry about him, especially his nieces. At first he was the mysteriously cool uncle as proclaimed by Ruby and later on the secretive and paranoid uncle explained by Yang but in their shared time together, each kid gotten to know the crow by their own definitions.

It’s like that little thing Blake does, associate a word with a person.

She told Sun about her girls, Earnest, Defiance, and Strength.

Then there’s team JNPR, Tenacity for Jaune, Zestful for Nora, Ascendancy for Pyrrha and Acuity for Ren. It took some time but eventually Oscar became Perseverance.

As for Qrow, well, she jokingly thought Mother Hen but now she’s satisfied to call him Memory.

It’s mostly because of all the Muninn parallels but there is just so much history behind Qrow Branwen. Carried in the creak in his bones, dips in his scars, the grey of his feathery hair, the surprise in his laughs, like he’s relearning how it is to walk with ghosts and angels.

So yeah, Blake sometimes worries about him and then she and Weiss worry about Ruby and Yang getting worried too.

But maybe there’s no need to.

From the soft gazes he sets on James and Clover, maybe they’re the ones making sure their Team Dad/Uncle is doing okay.

Now if only Qrow’s love life can move to the next stage.

Their conversation during breakfast was more than enough as food for thought, analyzing everything they know of Qrow Branwen and how he interacts with two men in particular.

Early mission meetings are obviously designated Clover Flirting Time as they get to their seats.

“I wouldn’t mind having another match with you,” Clover said casually as if it didn’t take weeks of near begging for a one on one fight.

“Really? You enjoy falling on your ass that much, lucky charm?”

“Sure do,” Clover slides close, letting his hip press against Qrow’s. “But I like seeing you down on the mats just as much.”

That flirt was meant to be whispered, low and teasing and it definitely sends a blush down Qrow’s neck. It’s a real shame that Blake has an extra set of ears to hear this.

Then from the sight of Marrow almost choking on his coffee, he probably heard it too.

The dog faunus and the cat faunus exchange silent misery.

“Ooh, another match?” Nora, being her glorious self, pops right at Qrow’s side and the two men nearly jump. “Hah, that’s a bit boring by now.”

Clover raises a brow, slightly wary and challenged, “Boring?”

Nora nods her head as Ren-like as possible, “Yep, I mean, training doesn’t have to be combat does it?”

Qrow blinks at her, and so does her teammates because hey, this is Nora complaining about combat training. “Nora, you got something else in mind?”

This encouragement, openness and trust, Blake wouldn’t have noticed it before but Qrow has been putting a lot more faith in them since Argus. It’s really nice to have an adult take them seriously. Then again this is Qrow. He encouraged Yang and Jaune to start a prank war.

Their resident lightning in a bottle had a million volt grin, “Parkour and freerunning! We all saw the Ops jumping around in the mines and that time Qrow and Winter destroyed the campus.”

“Miss Valkyrie,” hissed the ice queen, “I advise you to refrain from telling that anecdote.”

“What, feeling sore since you lost?” Qrow grinned.

“I did not lose, Qrow,” she glared, “it was clearly a stalemate.”

“Wow, now I’m really curious,” Clover said.

“I’ll tell you all about it then,” Qrow winked, “like how I clearly would’ve won.”

Next to Nora, Jaune added in, “There was a recording of it going around campus, like from the moment Qrow bushed back his bangs to the end where the General stopped the fight.”

To Blake, it’s a little odd to see Jaune gush about this since majority of them choose to ignore the usually mushiness of Clover Flirting Time. But then she notice the way Jaune subtly elbowed his teammate.

“Brush your bangs?” Clover’s focus on that little detail had him reach over to do said action, “Huh, you don’t look that intimidating like this.”

Like this, as they all observe, is Qrow blushing madly at the close contact and gentle action, the way Clover’s fingers glided through his dark hair like water.

Oblivious to the two men, everyone else in the room saw Jaune and Nora fist bump each other. They don’t even hide their smugness. No they toss it over at Weiss and Ren.

Ren is slightly alarmed.

Their resident ice princess on the other hand is silently fuming.

Like Blake mentioned before, this is a game.

It may be petty, invasive, and a tad immoral.

And yet it has begun.

-

So yeah, I need fic title suggestions and ideas

pls

[virginpornstar]

What I Learned From All Of My Hookups In 2020

I knew 2020 would be less slutty than 2017-2019 due to the fact I wasn’t living in ATL. I still had plans to travel monthly, discover new cities and new men, and be a slut everywhere I go. Covid-19 ruined that. So 2020 was far less slutty than I had anticipated, but I still had a lot of fun this year. We have to roll with the punches, and readjust our plans when the plague strikes. I still learned a lot about myself and my sexual interests with each new penis that entered my body. Here’s what I learned from all of my hookups i n 2020! 

1. GUYS THAT DELETE AND CONSTANTY REMAKE NEW DATING APP PROFILES HAVE MENTAL ISSUES

Hooking up with New Castle started off fun, but then he kept acting weird. I asked him why he’d always delete his Grindr profile then make a new one every other week, then he’d go off on me for asking why. I did realize he’d make profiles advertising himself as a top, then ones as vers, then others as a bottom. A clear sign the man didn’t even know what he wants. We had some good times until he started acting crazy, and then randomly blocking men when I couldn’t hookup. 

2. GUYS TREAT ME DIFFERENTLY NOW THAT I’VE LIVED IN ATL

Left Tackle and I had been hooking up off and on since 2016. Yet suddenly in 2020 he wanted to start acting differently, like he’s too good for me. Um what? He also acted grossed out and disgusted after following all my ATL sexual adventures, and I think he started to think I was tainted after reading about me hooking up with a poz guy while on vacation. Oh well. Fuck buddies aren’t meant to last forever. I will not have a guy treating me like he’s too good for me, when in fact I’ve always been too good for him. 

3. I NEED TO STOP HOOKING UP THE NIGHT BEFORE VACATION

I noticed a pattern of when I’m supposed to have a slutty vacation weekend I end up hooking up the night before I leave. Which either makes me dickmatized and not horny on the trip, or I get my hole ripped and then I can’t even fully enjoy hooking up while away. I’m still gonna fuck, just not as much or as enjoyably if I hadn’t gotten fucked the night before. I still enjoyed my encounter with Big D, even if he did rip me. 

4. I CAN’T STAND VIRGOS

Philly Jawn and I had been following each other online and flirting here and there for years. Then when I was staying the weekend in Philly he and I finally made up. it started off well at first, and we even fucked, only for him to act distant and start ghosting me afterwards. Fuck that nigga. I can’t stand Virgo men since they always do this distant shit, and are terrible communicators. If you’re not interested then say so. Don’t waste my fucking time. 

5. FORT LAUDERDALE WAS MORE FUN THAN MIAMI

Miami was my last vacation before Covid-19 plagued the earth. It’s also the last time I flew anywhere. I was so excited to hookup with all these hot Miami men, yet somehow Fort Lauderdale was way better than Miami. The bathhouse was definitely far superior in Fort Lauderdale than Miami at least, and I had way more fun hooking up with guys there than the bathhouse in Miami. 

6. MIAMI IS TO LATINO GAYS WHAT ATL IS TO BLACK GAYS

I hooked up with so many latino men in Miami/Fort Lauderdale. They are the dominant population. It made me nostalgic for my younger years. I didn’t really get with many latinos in ATL, since black men rule that city. I had many latino lovers in the past, so it made me a little nostalgic. Sometimes a latin lover is all you need to give you great vacation sex. 

7. I’M STILL NOT POZ FRIENDLY BUT MAKING PROGRESS

Miami has long been the biggest HiV hot spot in America. Their infection rates are far worse than Atlanta. So it did seem a bit fitting to hookup with a poz guy for the first time while in the HIV capital. When in Rome...granted I only hooked up with him because he was the only cute guy at the bathhouse at the time. If there was anyone more appealing, I wouldn’t have settled for a poz guy. I also wasn’t comfortable enough to do anal, but it’s still progress to have hooked up with a poz guy without penetration. 

8. THE PHILLY BATHHOUSE WAS MORE FUN THAN I EXPECTED

I love checking out the bathhouses in every city I travel to. I didn’t have high expectations for the Philly bathhouse since I knew there wasn’t going to be a pool or hot tub, and those are my favorrite amenities at bathhouses. Yet surprisingly the Philly bathhouse was poppin, and I went on a Wednesday afternoon. It was very diverse, and although I didn’t fuck anyone, I still had a good time. 

9. IT’S FUN TOPPING SOMEONE’S DAD

I always thought it was hot hooking up with a dick that’s created life. I hooked up with this DL divorced father of 2, he was young and around my age, but still hot knowing he had kids. I topped him, and then he became my plug. I do miss the weed provided more than I miss him. 

10. I DON’T MISS THE BUMS IN THE SOUTH

My northern hookups have come bearing gifts. Weed, money, etc...I don’t miss the bums in Atlanta always begging for handouts. Asking for money, transportation, asking for shit. I’ve had so many guys give me shit without even asking like my DL Latino lover. Maybe I should remain in the north, although ATL keeps calling my name. 

11. WHITE MEN LOVE BLOWJOBS

One thing I miss about Atlanta is the men there loved to fuck. Being in the suburbs with mostly old white men and DL guys I’ve realized most of them just want head. I used to be oral only, until I got on PrEP and lost a relationship to never wanting to fuck. So now I love to fuck, but keep encountering guys, like Mushroom Man, where all they want to do is get their dick sucked. Sorry, oral only isn’t enough for me to have a good time. 

12. SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO CATFISH A GUY TO GET THE DICK THAT GHOSTED YOU

Chubby Chaster and I spent hours talking one night on Grindr, then he started ignoring me the next day. Oh hell no! I will not be ignored. I got into the whole anonymous profile thing briefly after my friend encouraged me, and weirdly so many guys are into that. I did end up getting Chubby Chaser to come over, and I kenw as soon as he saw me he must’ve been pissed to realize it was me. Oh well. I still made him cum. 

13. WAY TOO MANY DL BOTTOMS IN THE SUBURBS

When I think of DL guys, at least the ones that turn me on, I think of guys with girlfriends/wives that are masc men you’d never be able to tell fuck guys on the DL. They’re also tops. Yet somehow all the DL guys with wives/girlfriends/baby mamas where I am now seem to all be bottoms. WTF! How can you fuck your girlfriend’s pussy, but somehow can’t use your dick to fuck a guy’s ass? Yet you want to let guys fuck you in the ass? That’s not fun for me. I top like once or twice a year, yet hooked up with so many DL bottoms this year. 

14. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR OTHER PEOPLE’S TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS

Gorilla and I have hooked up off and on for years. He’s a Scorpio too, and we never get along. Yet the sex is good. He’s been in an off/on relationshp for years, and seems to only hit me up whenever they’re off. Yet we fucked, then suddenly he started being distant afterwards, and then posting his man on social media. Ugh. I can’t stand that shit. I’ve been in that shit where I fuck new guys whenever my ex and I were off, and then when we’re on again ignore the new guys. I hate that cycle, and it’s not fair to the new people I got involved with. So I hate getting involved in that cycle in other people’s relationships since I wanted consistent dick. 

15. NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’LL MEET YOUR FUTURE SUGAR DADDY

I kinda only hooked up with Gasolina because i’d not had dick in months. I was a little desperate. I wasn’t that attracted to his pics, but he had a big dick, and I’m glad we did end up hooking up. Since he turned into my sugar daddy and I had many fun times this summer with him. 

16. INVITING OVER A THIRD CAN SALVAGE A TERRIBLE HOOKUP

Panty Man got on my damn nerves. We rented a hotel together for the night, even though we barely knew each other and had only texted/talked on a dating app before. I knew as soon as we began talking, this wasn’t going to work, but I didn’t feel like leaving since I paid for half. I invited over New Castle, and then things turned into a threesome. They didn’t touch each other, but both fucked me. I had a good time, because I invited over another guy. I wouldn’t recommend inviting over a third to salvage terrible sex with your boyfriend, but it works for random hookups. 

17. I LIKE CORRUPTING GOOD BOYS

I knew Rocky and I didn’t have any long term potential. He lived too far for me, and his health issues were something I don’t think I could deal with. But we still had some nice times together. He was such a good church boy so I had fun getting him to drink, try edibles, and even wanted him to try poppers. I love introducing men to new things. 

18. I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER DATE A WHITE MAN AGAIN

It’s crazy to think I wasn’t even really attracted to black men until 4 years ago, and now I don’t see myself getting serious with any man that isn’t black. Farmer J was the last white boy I went out with/hooked up with, and he will hopefully be the last for the foreseeable future. I’ve had great encounters with white men before, but I never came close to an actual relationship with a white guy. Now after the ignorant comments Farmer J said, and it’s a lot of the ignorance that comes with dating a white man that is attracted to black people, but knows nothing about black people. His offensive comments that he never would’ve realized are offensive, and his voting history were a complete deal breaker for me. Completely reminded me why once you go black, you never go back. 

19. GUYS ACT SKEPTICAL ABOUT FILMING YOUR SEXUAL ENCOUNTERS THEN GET SUPER INTO ONCE THE CAMERA IS ON

I saw The Reverend again for the first time in 4 years. I wanted to record more content for my OnlyFans. I knew he’d be skeptical due to the nature of his career, but I have masks and know what I’m doing. I’m surprised how into he got when the camera was on. I always turn my tops into the director since I’m too high on poppers to worry about angles, but it was a fun time. We got some really good footage for my channel. 

20. A RANDOM HOOKUP CAN LEAD TO A RELATIONSHIP

Before BMore Bae entered my life I wasn’t looking for love. I had just launched my OnlyFans, wanted to record content, make money, enjoy life, save up before moving to ATL, and then boom. He comes over, he’s cuter than expected, and I caught feelings. I caught feelings fast. It’s been an roller coaster, but it’s so true. Love enters your life when you least expect it. I’m so glad it did. We’ve already made so many beautiful memories together, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. 

[graveyard-tales]

I have a lot of thoughts. *jesters awkwardly to this post*

I just want Toza more involved with the boy’s life. 

There’s a lot of fucking hcs in here too.

‘Cause I mean, Mako and Bolin had lived in some pretty toxic environments. It wouldn’t be a stretch that both of them picked up some bad habits. No matter how much Mako may have tried to shield it from Bolin, especially if he was picking them up himself.  And they just got off the street! They literally just started their road to recovery!

Imagine Toza. He’s not their dad, he doesn’t pretend to be and honestly he doesn’t want to be. But Bolin worked himself under Toza’s skin so fast and under all that venom, Mako really is a good boy. God damn he falls so hard so fast and just wants to protect these boys. So he is now their uncle.

Some asshole notified the police with their “concerns” about the rumor of two kids living in the probending attic. That was the first day that Toza saw their adoption papers that Mako so helpfully provided. Proof that their dear uncle, on their father’s side of course, adopted them after their parents passed. They’re father years before, a badger-mole trainer tragically mauled by his own moles. And they’re mother had fallen ill after braving the cold in a desperate hunting trip up north. She passed quiet, but tragically. Toza learned quickly that Bolin liked to embellish.

T: These papers look real. M: That’s the point. T: We’re you get them? M: Don’t worry about it.

Toza doesn't worry over the connections a 15 yr old former criminal might have, he doesn’t.

T: Where did that jacket come from? B: Oh, we were at the par- M: Don’t worry about it.

But Toza should probably talk to them about stealing before it leads back to him and gets them all in trouble.

Swearing is another matter that Toza doesn’t necessarily have a problem with, only ... they do it so much. Tiny, thin sailors, these boys. Mako makes an effort to scold Bolin for is language, ever trying to be the adult, the parent. But he’s the worst out of both of them. He’s good at holding his tongue around certain adults, figures of authority. Somehow becoming their “uncle” took Toza out of that category.

Finding out Mako could generate lightning nearly scare the life from his old body. He wasn’t ready yet, dammit. Toza was just dumping busted training dummy behind the building when boom, lightning. He’s kind of overacting. Mako wasn’t even near him and he was aiming at the water. Toza is just surprised a 15 yr old is the one behind it and is scary fucking good at it. But not as surprised as he is to find out that Mako’s the “boss’s pet project” he’s heard whispered when he was making deals the Triple Threats. He wisely doesn’t mention anything when Mako tells him Zolt taught him. 

Listen, they spent enough time around triad members to be on familiar terms. With some of, what seemed to be, their “top guys” too boot. Bolin and Mako are a little sexist. Mostly Mako. Not horribly so but more like ignorantly so. 

“”What do you mean I shouldn’t call a woman a doll/broad/skirt/babe/kitten??? (yeah I lightly looked into 20′s slang, i like to have a little fun as a treat)

They call a woman dame, maybe expect her to be girly and sexy but never underestimate their strength kind of thing. If they spent enough time around those guys to be familiar with, and grown up on the streets, they definitely interacted with the sex workers that “worked” for the triads. If not just seen them in passing.

Toza is an old bear that can still get it, but that’s not relevant. What is relevant is that he know a repressed bi teen when he sees one. Mako hasn’t been around a healthy relationship since he was eight and he’s been around mostly straight men. And no one has talked to him about anything. His “talk” was from a triad man with a woman on his lap, who was mostly out to tease/mock him. And no one ever mentioned men when they talked about sex.

So Mako pushed that shit right down. (Along with his attraction to women and his emotion’s honestly. Conceal don’t feel. Mako would be a big fan of Elsa I think.) It doesn’t help the load of self loathing the kid has. Toza is super casually gay around him but they don’t actually talk about it. (Hey he didn’t ask for kids, he literally doesn’t know how to tell Mako he needs to be kinder to himself and actually have him listen. He’s pretty sure he’d rather jump out of the building then try to think about how to approach Mako’s unhealthy need for control.)

Bolin has some issues with self doubt but Mako is surprisingly good at pep talks and reassurances. For Bolin only, Toza realizes, everyone else can fuck off he guesses. It’s mostly around his self imagine and his bending, Bolin doesn’t realize he’s a phenomenal bender for his age. 

Bolin just up and disappears one day and it’s the first time Toza see’s Mako lose his control. At first seems normal, tense and angry but not a far cry from how he usually is. But then he starts talking to Mako, asking about Bolin and he can just hear it in the kid’s voice that Mako is freaking the fuck out. Mako is just about to scour the city with Toza “reluctantly” tagging along when Bolin comes back.

He’s got a black eye and is cover in scrapes but has a good handful of coin and a bag of hot, fresh food. Apparently Bolin got dragged into a literally underground Earth Rumble and won. (Let’s be honest, Bolin would be the one to get dragged into a fight club.)

It’s the first time Toza see’s Mako actually yell at Bolin. So angry fire trailed his breath. Toza doesn’t cut in but he does feel bad for Bolin who just sits back and takes the scolding. Of course Bolin hug’s his brother the moment it’s done, apologizes for worrying him and they’re good literally the next minute.

It’s hardly the last time Bolin and Mako sneak into building all bloody and scuffed up. Mako is just much better at sneaking in then Bolin which is how he’s able to get to the lockers without anyone seeing him. Toza found him by accident honestly. Kids’s beat to shit but it’s not too bad. A little blood that needs to be cleaned up, some scraps that need to be patched. Says he’s had worst and Toza believes him. 

Toza never finds out what happen just that something in Mako snapped that day. Just was dealing with too much at one moment and was unable to push it down. So Toza had sat with Mako until his ass was numb as he rubbed Mako’s back. And Mako curled around himself as tightly as he could and cried like, well, cried like a kid who lost everything too young and was force to grow up too fast while dealing with too much at one time.

It’s the only time he’s seen Mako cry but Toza figures he handled it as rightly as he could. Handled it perfectly as far as Mako is concerned as the kid will sit with him, close and quiet sometimes. With the only signs that it’s a day that’s been too much is shaky hands and sometimes red eyes. 

Bolin is a huger and Toza absolutely has no problems with it. Crying into his shirt and blowing snot all over it when the kid is being dramatic is another matter. Toza learned that it was okay to be annoyed with this, even with Mako around. When Bolin cried, really cries he was a lot more quiet and clinged so tightly like he was holding on for dear life. He never did this to Toza but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen it. He doesn’t think either of the boys noticed when he caught them. Sometimes even naps weren’t safe from nightmares.

Okay, shit, wait I wrote so much ... I have more but this post is already long enough sjdfhgajksd

I just realized how much I love Toza or rather who I personally imagine him to be since he’s a nobody in lok and there is not enough content for him. 

And I just like to imagine Mako and Bolin are kind of shitty at that stage in their life because they literally don’t know much better. It’s the shitty people who were the ones that were willing to use them enough to keep them alive. It’s just how they had to adapt. They’re not bad just ... morally skewed. 

[angelic-holland]

Uncool // th x fem!reader

Summary: You broke things off with Tom, it broke your heart, but you had to. He’s been trying to make his peace with your decision but he can’t and needs to confront you. 

Part of my Drive North series. One shots based off of each song from the SWMRs album Drive North, find the rest of the one-shots here. Listen to the song Uncool while reading. 

Warnings: lots of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

He was drunk, and sad, and Harrison tried to tell him not to go out tonight, knowing you’d be there, knowing you’d run into him if he went out, and he would lose it. Things happen, people change. Tom didn’t think he’d changed, he was just busier than he was when you first started dating. You missed him so much when he wasn’t there, you missed him as he left for longer and longer, the time of your phone calls and distance between your texts increasing every time he left. You didn’t know how to be in a relationship with someone who was never around.

Eventually, about two weeks ago before he left for reshoots of Endgame you broke things off. You told him you didn’t love him anymore, you told him you couldn’t pretend to love him anymore. And he was a wreck. Even being with the men he looked up to couldn’t cheer him up at the end of the day. He would go back to his trailer and cry about you, which led to him coming back home after reshoots with the sole idea of moving on. That’s why he was at the club, getting drunker than he should, hoping to meet a pretty girl to make his problems go away.

“Tom, maybe cool it with the beers, you’re pissed,” Harrison observes and Tom rolls his eyes.

“Shut up Haz, you’re not my mum,” Tom says, sitting up on the stool.

“Tom, I’m just looking out for you, is this really the place you want to be? What if she’s working tonight?”

“Nah, it’s Thursday, she never works on Thursdays.”

“Tom I-,” Harrison starts but the opening tune to a song cuts him off as Tom slams his bottle against the bar.

“Why do they always play this stupid fucking song? It’s her song, I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” Tom grumbles as the Lemon Song by Led Zeppelin plays.

***

You decided to take another shift at the club, it would help pay off next month’s rent and save a little towards your vacation fund. Your friend really needed the night off so it wasn’t a problem. You got to the club, tossing on your apron, hoping to get good tips as you made your way to the bar, Brick, the DJ seeing you and queuing your song. It was something that they did every night, playing the favorite song of whoever was working the bar, give them something to look forward too before their long shift.

You notice a very drunk person at the end of the bar, motioning with his beer bottle before slamming it on the counter. You almost walk right up to him to tell him off before you realize who it is.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” You ask your bar partner, Alexis.

“Fuck if I know, he said fuck me up and got like four shots of vodka before moving on to beer. His friends been trying to cut him off but it’s not working.”

“Fucking idiot,” you mumble meeting Harrison’s eyes. He shakes his head and you nod, not planning on going anywhere near the two of them for as long as you could.

You went through the night, serving different people, cutting a few people off, your back to Tom as much as possible. When it was time for Alexis to leave you gave her a hug. As the night drew later and the club was near closing there were few people still hanging out at the bar. Most were dancing or on their way out.

Tom, to your absolute chagrin was still sitting at the end of the bar with Harrison.

You give a last call, hoping he doesn’t recognize your voice but it’s too late, he turns and noticed the red streaks in your hair, standing up and stumbling towards where you stood at the other end of the bar, getting another man his last beer.

“Hey, hey Y/N,” Tom slurs and you finally turn to face him.

“Hi Tom,” you say, giving Harrison a look, trying to tell him to get them out of here.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve seen you since,” Tom says, sitting down in front of you, “the first time I’ve seen you since the night before the morning you told me you didn’t love me and you were gone.”

“Tom, let’s not talk about this here,” you whisper, watching Randy, the bouncer from the corner of your eyes as Tom’s voice steadily increased.

“No, I think we should, I think I deserve to know, why, why you stopped, why you don’t-,” he couldn’t get the words out, his hands rubbing his eyes as he sniffled.

“Tom, come on why don’t you let Harrison take you home? Sleep it off?”

“No, I, I wanna know Y/N, please,” he looks up at you, tears in his eyes.

Fuck, you were going to have to talk about this eventually.

“Tom, just, go, okay? I don’t know what else to tell you,” you say, turning away from him to start putting away the glasses you had already cleaned. The only ones not clean were the one in his hand and the one the guy at the end of the bar was drinking from. You’d be able to get out relatively quickly tonight.

“You don’t know what else to say?!” His voice louder, the music lower and lower in the background.

You ignore him, wiping down the rest of the bar and taking the glass from the guy at the end of the bar, thanking him for the tip as he leaves.

“Tom, come on, time to go,” Harrison says as Tom pushes the glass away.

“Come on Y/N, talk to me, please, I need you to talk to me,” he’s crying now, you can hear it as your back is turned towards him, cleaning the glasses. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your rapid heart beat.

“Y/N,” Randy says; walking towards you and the pair of boys.

“Hey Randy,” you say, turning back towards Tom.

“Everything okay?” He asks and before you can answer Tom turns towards him, mumbling like an idiot.

“Everything is great Randy, is Randy your new boyfriend Y/N? Who’s Randy?”

“Randy, is the bouncer, and I want you to leave,” Randy says, crossing his arms.

“It’s fine, I’m almost done I’ll walk them out,” you say, grabbing Tom’s glass and cleaning it.

“You sure Y/N?”

“Yes, thank you Randy.”

He nods but doesn’t leave until you had finished wiping down the counter, pulling off your apron and grabbing your purse and tips.

“Come on drunky, let’s get you home and sober,” you say, as you follow Harrison’s lead, leaving out the back door so no paparazzi would catch the group of you leaving.

“You got a car?” Harrison asks and you nod, unlocking your car and Harrison helps Tom into the backseat, who’s mumbling about you and him and maybe something about Spiderman, and Randy, lots of half thought out questions about Randy.

“Tom, Randy is gay and I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say starting the car.

“But, you, I-,”

“His job is to make sure there aren’t any drunk off their ass club goers trying to hit on me or in your case scream at me.”

“I wasn’t screaming,” Tom starts and Harrison cuts him off.

“Yeah, Tom, you kinda were,” Harrison says, shaking his head.

“Oh shut up Harrison,” he mumbles, crossing his arms like a child.

“Tom, listen, let’s get you home and sober and we can talk okay?”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” Tom grumbles.

“Jesus fuck Tom, you were just complaining that you wanted to talk to me,” you roll your eyes as you drive out of the parking lot.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, wanna give you a piece of my mind.”

“Okay Tom, you can give me a piece of your mind as well.”

You ride in silence for the most part, Tom mumbling every so often as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment building.

“Alright, up,” you say as Harrison helps Tom out of your car and into the building.

***

Tom was laying on your couch, holding a trash bin while you and Harrison stood in your kitchen. Your roommate was at her boyfriends so you had the place to yourself.

“You know, Y/N, he literally doesn’t shut up about you. Hasn’t shut up about you since you broke up with him right before he left. That was cruel,” Harrison whispers, watching as Tom rolls around on your couch.

“Harrison, I, you know why I broke up with him. You know that I didn’t have a choice.”

“But you did, if you cared you would make it work.”

“I, I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Yeah, you need to explain yourself to him. He still doesn’t understand why you cut off all contact with him.”

“It was stupid okay? I’m not gonna lie, I thought cutting ties would hurt less.”

“And in return it hurt like way worse than you could’ve imagined?”

“Yeah…”

“Listen, he needs to drink some Gatorade, sober up, then you should tell him why, really why. Because he’s not stupid, but he thinks you don’t love him because that’s what you said.”

“I don’t think he wants to hear a word I have to say.”

“Maybe, but you should listen to him. He needs someone to listen to him. He needs you to listen to him.”

“Okay,” you nod, grabbing a cup from your cabinet and pouring some Gatorade into it.

“Tom? Buddy, we’ve got you something to drink,” Harrison says as you bring the cup into the living room.

“No, no more alcohol,” Tom whines, his hand reaching out to swat it away.

“Not alcohol, just Gatorade, come on, drink a little,” Harrison says as you put the cup on the coaster in front of him.

Harrison takes a seat on the chair next to the couch and you sit leaning against the coffee table by Tom’s head, watching as he shakily brings the cup to his lips.

You sit in silence as he drinks, struggling to keep his hand steady.

“Y/N, did I ever tell you how pretty you look tonight? Randy is a lucky guy,” Tom slurs.

“Jesus fucking Christ Tom, Randy has a boyfriend! He’s gay!”

“Oh, you know, you used to have a boyfriend. It was me, I was your boyfriend,” Tom mumbles putting the cup down.

“Just, try to relax, get sober.”

“No.”

“No? No you’re not going to try to get sober?”

“No, because I know I won’t be able to tell you what I want to tell you if I’m sober.”

“Tom, I think you should wait, clear your head, get a little sober before you say anything, don’t wanna say something you’ll regret,” Harrison says.

“What? Could I say something as bad as she did?” Tom says, jutting his finger out at you.

“Harrison, it’s okay, I probably deserve it,” you say, remembering when you left him.

****

“Tom, I’m sorry, I, I can’t do this anymore,” you say, pulling away from him.

“What, Y/N, darling, what do you mean?”

“I, I don’t love you anymore Tom.”

“What? Darling what did, where did this come from? I thought we were good, we were good, I thought we were good,” Tom keeps repeating.

“We aren’t, we weren’t, I don’t, Tom, don’t make me say it twice.”

“No, I don’t believe you, after everything, after all this time, you, you don’t love me anymore?”

“Yes Tom, I- I don’t love you anymore.”

“I’m-, I’ve got a fucking plane to catch, can’t we talk about this later? You, just wait, I’ll be back in two weeks, we can talk about it then.”

“What’s there to talk about? Tom, I don’t love you like I used to, I’m sorry, there’s, there isn’t anything you could do. There’s no fixing this.”

“No, no, no, Y/N, don’t go, please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry Tom.”

****

“You, you just, you didn’t answer my calls. You just, you vanished Y/N, you told me you didn’t love me anymore and you disappeared. How was I supposed to feel? You didn’t even explain yourself. You never told me why you didn’t love me.”

“Tom I-,”

“No, I’m talking, shhh,” he says, his finger pressing to his lips to shush you.

“Okay,” you shake your head.

“And we were dating for two years, we’ve been through so much, you were there for me, cheering me on at my premieres, you would kiss my nose and say ‘love you dork’ every night before we went to bed. And you mean to tell me that you just stopped loving me? Just out of the blue just like that? Because that’s bullshit Y/N. I fucking love you so much. I followed your footsteps into a fucking murder scene.”

“A what now?”

“Shhh, it’s a figure of speech. But you know, even though I love you, I don’t wanna be your fool, I don’t wanna love you if you’re not gonna love me back.”

“Tom, please let me explain-,”

“Explain what? How you told me you don’t love me and then left me after we spent the night together, after I told you I could see us growing fucking OLD TOGETHER?”

“Tom,” you felt tears prickle your eyes but you blinked them away.

“And I thought that, you know, I want to try to fix this, want to try to understand what went wrong, because I believe in us, you know. Talked a lot to Robert about what happened. You know what he told me?”

“What?”

“That if you loved me as much as I love you, you’d find a way back to me, you’d make it work, because that’s what you do for people who you love.”

“But Tom why should I have to sacrifice everything that I have here, why am I the only one sacrificing something?” You say, your voice rising.

“What?”

“Why should I be the one to fight to make it work? Why should I have to bend over backwards to visit you when you’re filming, to text you or call you at odd hours when I know you won’t fucking answer? Why am I the only one sacrificing my life here?”

“Because!”

“Because WHY?!”

“What do you have here to sacrifice? You, you’ve got a job yeah but not like you’re in college, you don’t have a family, what do you have here that would stop you from making it work?”

“Wow, just wow Tom, what the fuck? You know, you fucking know that I don’t like to talk about my childhood, about the foster homes, the fact that my mum abandoned me when I was a baby, everything, and you’re gonna use that against me? Low fucking blow,” you say, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Tom…” Harrison starts.

“No it’s fine. I deserve it. What else Tom? Got anything else you can make me feel like shit about?”

“No, Y/N, that’s not what, I didn’t mean it like that,” Tom mumbles.

“Oh? How’d you mean it? I mean yes I never went to college, school wasn’t for me, you fucking know that, school wasn’t for you either, so no I don’t have a traditional job. Neither do you.”

“No, I just meant, I meant that-,”

“And you know what? You wanna know why I told you I didn’t love you?”

He opens his mouth to say something but you ignore him cutting him off.

“I fucking knew it would be too hard, to explain everything I was feeling, everything that piled on top of each other throughout the past few months. You would be gone, months at a time, and I’d go out of my way, staying up to video call you, texting you, waiting, fucking waiting for you to respond. You’d tweet, you’d post on Instagram, but you couldn’t fucking respond to a text? You just, you stopped putting in effort, so I gave up, why should I have to put in an effort, when you didn’t give a fuck? I thought you didn’t love me anymore. And I knew, I knew the only way to break this off, to get you to give up on me would be to tell you I didn’t love you, because I figured you felt the same way.”

“I, I should’ve made more of an effort to respond. I was just so busy, why do you fucking blame me for not responding to stupid texts?”

“Oh yes your girlfriend checking in on you, telling you that she got a raise, telling you she misses you, fucking stupid right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Saying an awful lot of things you don’t mean tonight huh?”

“Yeah you wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Tom mumbles.

“What?”

“Saying stuff you don’t mean.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t love me, because no matter how much I want you to, you don’t, not really.”

“Are you, are you fucking kidding me Tom? You know who made an effort to talk to you while you were gone? Me. Who always started the video calls? Me. Who always started the phone calls? Me. Who always made sure to plan their entire day around you so you could talk them for all of five seconds? Me. But right, I don’t love you.”

He’s silent, you look up, his eyes watching your face carefully.

“You know, Tom, Y/N, I think Tom should get a little more sober, then you guys can talk about this like adults,” Harrison pipes up.

“No, you know, if you actually wanted to make an effort, you would’ve taken me up on my offer, you would’ve come with me, you’d travel with me, you’d let me take care of you,” Tom says, sitting up.

“Tom, that’s not, that’s not what I want, I, you know that I’m not comfortable with you spending money like that on me. To fly me places, shit like that. I just-, fuck Tom you know that’s a weak spot for me.”

“Why? Because you don’t think you deserve it? Sweetheart you deserve every last cent I fucking have, and I’d gladly give it to you.”

“You don’t- you wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had to live paycheck to paycheck. You’ve never had to go to school hungry, you’ve never had to worry about when your next meal was, or where your new home would be because your foster family didn’t want you anymore. You don’t get it, money isn’t something I’m used to.”

“I wanted to help you get used to it, I know you don’t like when I spend money on you but I want to, want to help you learn that money is a good thing and I’m able to use it to make other people feel good.”

“Tom, I never asked for that.”

“I know, I know and that’s why I want to give you it, wanna give you the fucking world, because that’s what you deserve.”

“No, I don’t.”

“God, I don’t know how to get it through your fucking skull, always so fucking stubborn.”

“Shut up.”

“When did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop loving me, when did you fall out of love with me?”

“Tom, I never stopped loving you, you fucking idiot.”

“You sure?”

“God, and I’m the stubborn one.”

“So you still love me?”

“Yes, I love you dork.”

[twilightmademegay]

I wrote Bella*/Edythe fanfiction

And now all you nerds get to read it. Enjoy. Give me your thoughts.

*Bella does not physically appear in this, it’s mostly about Edythe’s gaywakening.

I had heard a boy, a few high schools back, refer to me as “Snow White”. It made me laugh at the time, how this human could compare me to a dainty, helpless princess when I was perfectly capable of crushing his windpipe in one hand, if I so desired. It didn’t offend me, though. Snow White was a far kinder nickname than Ice Princess. That was a title bestowed upon me far more often.

    Either one’s fitting, I thought to myself, smiling bitterly. It was clear to me now, as I lay buried in a snowbank, that the comparisons they drew were more accurate than I cared to admit. My skin was freezing, especially now that it had acclimated to the air around me. It was also pale, and even sparkled like snow in the sunlight.

    Sighing, I ran my hands through the powder around me. It was soft, fresh and actually sort of calming. With nothing for company but the stars and some scattered pines, it was easy to forget my reason for coming here.

Well, maybe not that easy. I couldn’t stop picturing her face. Her deep chocolate eyes that betrayed thoughts I longed to hear for myself. How they filled with terror when she saw the monster she’d made of me.

I growled quietly, particles of snow puffing up into the air as I quickly flipped onto my side. It wasn’t fair. I had lived for a century and this human girl, this insignificant child, would be the one to ruin me. There wasn’t even anything special about her.

That’s a lie, I reminded myself, and you know it. Her silent mind had intrigued me at first, yes, but any curiosity was swiftly blotted out by her cloyingly sweet scent, how I so desperately wanted to sink my teeth into her lovely neck and taste-

I sat up immediately, taking deep breaths of the fresh air. She’s not here now. It’s over. You’re fine. I was not fine. I could easily run back to Forks tonight, climb through her bedroom window and take what the monster inside me craved. Even the memory of her smell was enough to make my throat burn with desire, to make my fingers twitch in impatience. It would be so easy. But I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Just imagining the disappointment on Carlisle’s face, not to mention Esme…

I groaned. I needed to compose myself. Just look at you! Obsessing over Bella Swan like every mouth breathing boy at your school. Where’s your dignity, Edythe? It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. She was beautiful, in her way. She had an… interesting face, all sharp contrasts. Delicate bone structure, but wide eyes, full lips. Her skin was almost as pale as mine, but her hair was a deep brown, even darker than her eyes. I chuckled softly. With that coloring, maybe she was Snow White. But what would that make me? The evil queen? I certainly couldn’t be prince charming. Mike Newton was already vying for that role, as irritating as his attempts were. When we first came to Forks his constant and often vulgar thoughts about me had been an annoyance, though nothing I wasn’t already used to. But when I recalled the way he thought about Bella, a dark feeling came over me. Jealousy, my mind supplied easily, but I dismissed the notion. I would never harbor anything short of resentment for Mike Newton, so what was there to be jealous of?

The sound of snow crunching in the distance brought me out of my musings. Tobias, no doubt, coming to find where I’d run off to. I cringed. He was nice enough, but his interest in me was obvious, even without the glimpses I had into his head. The feeling was not mutual, but I still felt bad every time I brushed off his advances.

“Ah, Edythe!” He exclaimed once he drew nearer. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Hello, Tobias.” I smiled faintly as he took a seat next to me.

What is she doing all the way out here?

“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. “Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with my thoughts.” I added the last part hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t.

I always forget you can do that! “My sisters told me to leave you alone, but you seemed upset, so…” He trailed off, and I didn’t bother with a reply, choosing to look up at the stars instead. I should ask her what’s bothering her.

He took a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I interjected before he could ask the question out loud. “It’s nothing.” He scoffed.

“Are you sure? Because it doesn’t sound like nothing. You even have this little crease between your eyebrows.” He reached out slowly, like he wanted to smooth it out, but I threw some snow at him before he could. He laughed, shaking his long blond hair out and hitting me in the face. I glowered at him. “Oh, come on, Edythe. Lighten up, will you? There must be something that’s bothering you.”

“Besides you, you mean?” I grumbled. He simply held up a finger, stroking his chin in thought.

Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Is it boy trouble? Finally found someone special back home?”

I had never been more grateful that I’d lost all ability to blush. “No, Tobias. No one back home.” I tried to ignore the hopeful tone his thoughts took on after that.

Here goes nothing. “Don’t worry. I know you’ve only got eyes for me.” He grinned widely at me, confident and smug, but I simply stared back at him, unimpressed. He deflated a little, averting his gaze.

“In all seriousness, Edythe…” He sighed, then looked back at me. You know how I feel about you. Just give me a chance. Please.

This was why he always made me feel guilty. Beneath all the bravado, he was earnest. A good man. But not one I could ever want.

“I’m sorry, Tobias.” His eyes saddened. “Look, you surely must know that you’re a wonderful person, and incredibly handsome, too. You’ll find somebody that will love you, I’m sure of it. It just won’t be me.”

He smiled ruefully. You know I had to try. No hard feelings, honest.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I added, “It’s not just you. I’ve never felt that way about any man.”

Huh. His mind suddenly filled with thoughts of Rosalie and Eleanor. “Maybe you should stop trying to find a man, then.”

I furrowed my brow at him in confusion, looking into his mind to see why he put a slight emphasis on man, but he shook his head at me and smirked. Good night, Edythe, he thought, before singing some pop song loudly in his head to drown out his thoughts as he ran away.

I flopped back down into the snow once he was out of sight. Well, that was weird. What did he mean by “stop trying to find a man”? Maybe he was telling me to resign myself to a life of loneliness? As if I hadn’t already come to that conclusion long ago. And why would he be thinking of Rose and El? What did they have to do with my inability to find-

“Oh!” I gasped, sitting bolt upright. He must have assumed… My sisters had always preferred women, and they found happiness in each other. Did he think that I? No. No, that was preposterous. I didn’t have any aversion to it as a concept, even I wasn’t that old fashioned. The love between Rosalie and Eleanor had always seemed so natural to me, so right, that I could never understand why some people resented it. But for me? I was over a hundred years old, wouldn’t I have figured that part of myself out by now? No, Tobias was wrong. I just hadn’t found anyone that I liked, that was all.

    I slowly lowered myself back down. It was only natural that Tobias had come to that conclusion. I had, after all, just told him that I had never been interested in a man. But that wasn’t just to spare his feelings, even if that was my intention in saying it. I thought back on all of the men I had met over my many years, and not one of them jumped out at me as a romantic interest. I couldn’t even recall a passing attraction.

    My thoughts then turned to Tobias. He was objectively gorgeous, perfect, like all of those who shared our condition. I imagined he was also quite handsome in life. Tall, broad shouldered, a kind face. If any man were fit to be my mate, it was Tobias. And yet, he stirred nothing within me. But his sister Irina, on the other hand…

    I shook myself. Stop. What are you thinking? Clearly, my mind only went down this path because Tobias had planted the idea in my head. I shouldn’t have even entertained the possibility. Of course, Irina was beautiful. It was just as objective a fact for her as it was for Tobias. But did I give Tobias a second look? Did I look over his body like my eyes roamed across the sharp lines of Irina’s collarbones, the dip of her spine. Did my gaze ever rest a moment too long on his mouth?

    This time, I stood up. I began to pace back and forth, so quickly that I ran ruts into the snowdrift. I had no romantic feelings for Irina. I did not feel devotion for her like Carlisle felt for Esme, I did not desire to protect her like Jasper did with Alice. I did not look at her with the same soft eyes that Eleanor had for Rosalie. I was not in love with her, of that that much I was certain. But lust? Simple attraction?

    I abruptly stopped moving. “Oh, my God.” I breathed. “I’m gay.”

    Before I registered what I was doing, I was already running south. I thought about the pretty girls who would approach me every time we moved to a new school. How pleased I was that they wanted to be my friend. I realized now that it was much more than that. I remembered the time I found a copy of Le Fanu’s Carmilla at the library and read it three times a night, every night for a month, and how I bought my own copy that was now heavily marked up. It was the only piece of vampire fiction I had ever enjoyed. Perhaps I had seen myself in it?

    I stopped about fifty miles north of Seattle and leaned against a tree. It occurred to me that I was on my way back home, most likely to inform my family of my revelation. They were the people I cherished most in this existence, and I desperately wanted to share my discovery with them. I especially wanted to talk to Rose and El, the two people in the world that would understand this best.

    But oh, I had almost forgotten why I wasn’t at home in the first place. Bella Swan. I ground my teeth in frustration. Was one girl really going to keep me from my family? At a time like this? No. I was a lot of things, yes, but not a coward. I would not allow her to keep me from where I belonged.

    So what if she smelled delicious? I had plenty of experience keeping my thirst under control. So long as I avoided her like the plague she was, I wouldn’t be tantalized by the perfume of her blood, the inviting rosiness of her cheeks, the aggravating silence of her thoughts… I could make it through another year or two before we moved on, and she could continue with her mundane human life. Maybe she’d even marry that loathsome Mike Newton.

    There it was again. That pang of jealousy.

    But suddenly, I understood it.

    “Oh, shit.” No, I could not even consider that right now. It could only be a passing attraction, like Irina. Perhaps the mystery of her mind and her mouthwatering scent had mixed together and caused some sort of confusion with my feelings. I could not afford to like Bella Swan. And neither, quite frankly, could she afford any further attention from me.

    In any case, it was a problem for later. Right now, I needed to go home.

    It wasn’t long before I reached the house. I slowed to a stop as I got to the end of our long driveway and found Alice waiting for me on our front steps. She sprung to her feet as I approached, smiling and throwing her arms around me.

    I am so proud of you. I love you so much. She pulled away, but still held me by my shoulders. And I missed you. Are you going to stay this time?

    “I think so, Alice. I hope I can, at least.”

    Wonderful! She grinned, exuberant. Now, don’t let me keep you. You have some news to deliver.

    “You didn’t already tell them?” I asked.

    “Of course not,” she laughed. “You only get to come out to them once. I could never take that from you.”

    I would have had tears in my eyes, were I still able to cry. I pulled her into another crushing hug. “Thank you.”

    She giggled, pushing me towards the door. Go on!

    I decided to start with my father. He was my creator, in a sense, so it felt right to tell him first. I knocked gently on his office door.

    “Come in.” Carlisle looked up from his desk as I entered. “Oh, Edythe! Welcome home.”

    His thoughts were a mixture of relief to see me back safe and worry for the reasons I had left in the first place. He had already made up his mind to move the family if need be, which made me wince. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

    “It’s good to be home. Listen, Dad, I’m here because there’s something I need to tell you.”

    He looked closer at my eyes and I saw a flash of relief in his mind when he realized they were not the brilliant crimson he had feared. He had thought, briefly, that I’d given in and murdered the girl. I couldn’t say I blamed him, though his ready forgiveness for my imagined sin almost shamed me more than his anger would have. It strengthened my resolve to do nothing that he needed to forgive.

    “No, it’s not-” I paused, taking a deep breath I didn’t really need. “Dad, I’m a lesbian.”

    Shock flashed across his face, but as I listened to what he was thinking, I realized that he wasn’t surprised for the reasons I expected.

    “You already knew?” My voice was shriller than I intended, so I cleared my throat before trying again. “All this time, you knew?”

    You didn’t know? He attempted to school his expression, but couldn’t control the quirk in the corner of his mouth.

    “I just discovered it when I was up in Alaska,” I admitted sheepishly.

    I thought she would have figured it out by now. Maybe Rosalie was right, maybe she is a “clueless lesbian”.

    I was about to ask him if everybody in our family knew but me, but the place his thoughts trailed off to gave me a different question to ask.

    “Father,” I began calmly, trying to control my voice. “Please tell me you did not turn Rosalie into a vampire because you thought I was lonely and needed a girlfriend.”

    Carlisle lost his humor quickly. “That was a long time ago, Edythe. Edythe? Where are you going?”

    I was already at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going back to Alaska to bury myself in the snow forever. Goodbye, Carlisle. Great talk!”

[sapphiresea]

2, 4, 9, 26 :)

lgbt+ ask game

2.  how did you discover your sexuality, tell your story?  oh, gosh.  this is going to be long, and i’m still glazing over all the mental health problems i had that largely stemmed from trying to be someone i clearly was not.  

looking back, it seems like it should have been obvious from the outset, really, but it was a process getting to understand and accept my sexuality.  you have to know, i was very young when ellen came out, and i had no idea what the words ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ even meant at the time.  no one explained it to me, either.  i just knew that everyone around me was suddenly saying those words and they were whispered or demeaned, so i knew they were bad immediately.  from as far back as i can remember, i held the view that lesbians were disgusting and bad, and that shame buried really deep inside me for a very long time.  it was easier to never think about it and pretend than it was to ever let it be a conscious thought.

when i was a kid, i just couldn’t fathom actually wanting to be with a man.  i thought relationships were just a matter of custom and doing what was expected because that was how you could have children and a family.  my barbies married ken, but then ken went off to war and she spent all her time with her best lady friends.  i chose my crushes with internal pro/con lists.  i complained often that i hated romcoms because the women were always so dumbly chasing after men and they should just get over it.  i could talk about female celebrities for days but ask me my favorite male celebrity, and it was just tumbleweeds.  it didn’t even register as strange when, after my first real kiss with a boy, i had to brush my teeth three times and then called my best friend to tell her that kissing boys was disgusting.  that just fell into my belief that we were only with boys because we had to be, and because i didn’t allow myself to consider that there might be other options.  i was such a textbook baby gay, but there were only two moments that really penetrated into conscious awareness, and they were so jarring that i remember them even now.

the first was when i was 13 years old, and i was sat in my music class when my teacher, seemingly out of no where, decided to lecture us about gay people.  i have no idea what was going on before that because it was a spring day and the sunlight from the window was making my hair look red and i was busy daydreaming about dying it all red.  i only snapped back when kids started laughing because someone said, ‘gay.’  it wasn’t a negative lecture.  in fact, she was telling us we had to be more accepting of people, because she had heard a lot of slurs being thrown around and didn’t like it.  she told us, “about one in ten people are gay, which means that at least two, if not more, of you are gay.”  my very first thought was, “i wonder who the other one is.”  and then, cue panic attack.  i spent the whole rest of the day on the verge of tears trying to convince myself that i was being crazy for even thinking that.  

the second was in the food court of north hill mall around christmas time with the other steph and robyn.  it was around christmas because we were all wearing ridiculous elf and santa hats.  we got off school early thanks to a spare period and were picking at takeout lunches when robyn started a rant out of no where about how she couldn’t understand why men found boobs to be attractive.  i then became very aware of where my eyes were looking and attempted to focus them anywhere but on my friends in case they could tell how suddenly uncomfortable i had become and thought i was looking at their boobs.  they didn’t think that at all, by the way.  but steph was agreeing with her and they were going on and on about how unattractive boobs were and steph was throwing in occasional comments about the attractive aspects of the male form and i was just nodding along turning even redder.  now it’s not that i really felt strongly about boobs or anything.  it’s really just that in that moment, it became painfully clear to me that at least one of the biggest things i had always told myself that everyone experienced was not so ubiquitous an experience as i had initially thought.  

actually considering the possibility of straight –– despite the efforts of a therapist i saw twice and then refused to see again as soon as she suggested i might be not-totally-straight (oh and totally in love with one of my friends) –– didn’t come until a couple of years later.  it was a new crush of mine, crystal chappell, who was on days of our lives at the time.  ooh, i fell hard for carly manning, and i had to look into her other filmography.  on twitter and on a forum on her website, people were discussing something called ‘otalia’ and insisting i watch, so i did.  that single-handedly changed the trajectory of my life.  otalia were the first f/f couple i had ever seen and allowed myself to relate with (i saw willow/tara but was way too deep into the closet to even let myself pay attention to them).  over the course of the next few months, my attitude started to shift and a series of bad attempts at dating men, coupled with a new crush on a friend of mine, made me realize that i was definitely into women.  i identified as bi for a little while, but within the year, it became pretty clear to me that i had chosen the wrong label and my attraction to men was just a craving for external validation and what i had considered normalcy at the time.

out of internalized homophobia and an illness that screwed with my hormone levels, i identified as ace and aro off and on for awhile.  (don’t jump on me, that’s just my experience and i’m not attempting to get into discourse here or generalizing that to anyone else.)  but one day, i found that had shifted.  i started watching more lesbian media and engaging with other wlw and stopped being afraid of the word ‘lesbian’ like i had been.  and nothing has ever felt so freeing in my entire life.

4.  who was the first person you told, how did they react?  i think the very first person i ever told was a close online friend who was like my internet grandma.  i knew she was safe because she, too, is gay.  so i kind of just slipped it into a late night conversation on skype and nervously told her i thought maybe i was into girls, and she was the most accepting a person could be.  the next day, i told my friend over text while i was in walmart with my mom.  i remember thinking from the way we interacted that it was possible she was lgbt, too, and being so, so nervous to be the first one to say it.  but i was right.  and she became my first girlfriend.  so those were really great experiences, actually, and i’m glad those were my first ones.

9.  who are your favourite lgbt+ ships?  oh man, so many...  wayhaught, for sure, are my #1, but i also really love otalia, giani, hollistein, petramos, logan/lara, trishica, and a number of non-canon f/f slash.

26.  what identity advice would you give your younger self?  gosh, i don’t even know.  like i said, i was so deeply in the closet for so long that i’m not sure i would’ve been able to hear it.  if i could go back to when i was a kid, though, before all of this, i think i’d tell myself that ‘lesbian’ isn’t a bad word, and that, not only do i not have to be with anyone i don’t genuinely want to be with, but that it is possible to be with a woman, and that it’s okay to make that choice instead of hurting myself trying to bury it.

[dillydedalus]

what i read in march

several antigones & some other stuff

call me zebra, azareen van der vliet oloomi

oh boy. i really wanted to like this one, but uh. nah. so this book is about zebra, a young iranian-american from a lineage of ‘autodidacts, anarchists and atheists’, still traumatised by her childhood experience as a refugee (incl. her mother’s death on route). when her father dies years later, zebra decides to retrace the route of her exile thru barcelona, turkey, and back to iran. this sounds great! the beginning is good! but zebra is a quixotic figure (don quixote is unsubtly flagged as THE intertext several times), delusional about her own importance, obsessed with some kind of great literary mission and obnoxious & condescending & egotistic as all fuck (she looks down on students but treats her realisation that like, intertextuality is a thing, as this grand revelation when like..... we been knew since Lit. Theory 101) - and this is intentional & part of the quixotic thing & in general i approve of abrasive & bristly & difficult female characters BUT i expected there to be a gradual process of realisation where she sees that a) maybe her entirely male lineage of geniuses ain’t all that, c) her mission is uh.... incomprehensible. instead, once she reaches spain, she gets bogged down in endless pretentious bullshit and a #toxic relationship that takes up way too much space. knowing that all of that is likely intentional doesn’t.... make it good. also the writing is pretty overwrought for the most part & not even your narrator’s voice being Like That excuses plain bad writing, like the  absurd overuse of ‘intone’ and ‘pose’ as dialogue tags. i see the potential and i see the point & i liked some of it but uh. not good. 2/5, regretfully, generously

in the distance, hernan diaz

i don’t really go for westerns or man vs wilderness stories but damn i’m impressed. despite the violence & deprivation and sheer amount of gross shit, this story of a swedish immigrant getting lost in the american west for decades remains at its core so human, so tender, so sad (honestly this book is SO SAD, yet sometimes oddly hopeful), so evocative of isolation, loneliness, and the desire for human connection. 4/5

notes on a thesis, tiphaine rivière (tr. from french)

god, if i ever considered doing a phd i sure don’t anymore. this is a short graphic novel about a young woman’s descent into academic hell while writing her dissertation about labyrinths in kafka. it’s funny, the art is expressive and fanciful, and it is incredibly relateable if you’ve ever tried to actually write your brilliant, glorious, intricately constructed argument down, battled uni administration or had a panic attack over how to phrase a harmless email to a prof. Academia: Not Even Once. 3.5/5

red mars, kim stanley robinson

this is a very long hard sci-fi novel about mars colonisation & terraforming, discussing the ethics of terraforming, the potentials of a truly ‘martian’ culture, and how capitalism will inevitably fuck everything up, including outer space. all of this is up my alley and i did really like the first half (early colonisation efforts), but the 2nd half (beginning of terraforming, lots of politicking) was a slog - i liked reading about how terraforming was going, but the rest was just bloated, scattered and confusing. also there’s a tedious love triangle the whole time. 2/5

dragon keeper (rain wild chronicles #1), robin hobb

i love robin hobb she really can write a whole 500+ page book of set-up, characterisation and politicking and make it WORK. anyway, this has disabled dragons, a quest for mystical city, lots of rain wilds weirdness, a dragon scholar in an unhappy marriage, liveships, a sweet dummy romance, and uh... a lil penpalship between two messenger bird keepers? not much happens but it’s so NICE & so much is going to happen. also althea & brashen & malta turned up & i screamed. 3.5/5

season of migration to the north, tayeb salih (tr. from arabic)

this is a seminal work of post-colonial arabic literature, a haunting tale of the impact of colonialisation, especially of cultural hegemony in the education system, the disturbing dynamics of orientalism and sex, and village life in a modernising post-colonial sudan. it’s important, it’s well-written, it’ll make you think, but fair warning, there is a lot of violence against women - it has a point but still uh... wow. 3.5/5

dune, frank herbert

SOMETIMES.... BOOKS THAT ARE CONSIDERED MASTERWORKS OF THEIR GENRE.... ARE WORSE. so much worse. the writing in this is atrocious (”his voice was charged with unspeakable adjectives”), herbert somehow manages to make court intrigue and plotting UNBELIEVABLY DULL and sure, it was the 60s, but i’m p sure people knew imperialism was bad in the 60s! the main character, the eugenically-engineered chosen one or whatever, literally spends years among the oppressed & resisting natives of a planet ruled by a space!empire and at the end he’s like ‘i own this planet bc imperialism is Good Actually’. emotionally neglecting/abusing your wife, who you (!!!) decided (!!!) to marry for political reasons bc you’d rather marry your gf is also Good Actually (cosigned by the protag’s mother....) the worldbuilding is influential for the genre, sure w/e, but mainly notable for there just.... being a lot of it, the whole mythology-science makes No Goddamn Sense, all around this is just Bad. Bad. 0.5/5 i hope the Really Big Worms eat everyone 

dragon haven (rain wild chronicles #2), robin hobb

this healed my soul after toxic exposure to dune. anyway w/o spoilers: everyone is very much In Their Feelings (including me) and there’s a lot of Romance and Internal Conflict and Feelings Drama and Complicated Relationships and Group Dynamics and also dragons, which are really like very big, very haughty cats who can speak, and a flood and a living river barge with a mind of his own (love u tarman!). it’s still slow and languid but so so good. also: several people in this have to be told that People Are Gay, Steven, including Sedric, who is himself Gay People. 4/5

an unkindness of ghosts, solomon rivers

super interesting scifi story set on a generation ship with a radically stratified society in which the predominantly black lowerdeckers are oppressed and exploited by the predominantly white upperdeckers, mixed in with a lot of Gender Stuff (the lowerdeckers seem to have a much less stable and binary gender system than the upperdeckers) and neuroatypicality. it’s conceptually rich and full of potential, but just doesn’t quite stick the landing when it comes to the plot. 3/5

sanatorium under the sign of the hourglass, bruno schulz (tr. from polish)

more dreamy surreal short stories (ish?). i didn’t like this collection quite as much as the amazing street of crocodiles, but they are still really good, even tho you never quite know what is going on. featuring flights of birds, people turning into insects, thoughts about seasons and time, fireman pupae stuck in the chimney, and the continuing weird fixation on adela the maid. 3.5/5

angela merkel ist hitlers tocher, christian alt & christian schiffer

a fun & accessible guide to conspiracy theories, focusing on the current situation in germany and the current boom in conspiracy theories, but also including some historical notes. i wish it had been a bit less fun & flippant and more in-depth and detailed bc it really is quite shallow at points, but oh well. also yes the title does indeed translate to ‘angela merkel is hitler’s daughter’ so. yes. 2.5/5

the midwich cuckoos, john wyndham

fun lil scifi story in which almost all women in sleepy village midwich are suddenly pregnant, all at the same time. the resulting children, predictably, are strange, creepy, and possibly a threat to humanity. i get that it was written in the 50s but it is strange to read a book where almost all women, and only women, are affected by A Thing, but all the main characters are men & no one tells the women ‘hey we think it’s xenogenesis’ -  like realistically 80% of women affected went to the Neighbourhood Lady Who Takes Care of These Things like ‘hello, one (1) abortion please’ and the plot just ended there. i still liked it tho! 3/5

antigone project

antigone, the original bitch, by sophocles (tr. by fagles)

god antigone really is That Bitch. that’s all i have to say. 4.5/5

antigone, That Bitch but in french, jean anouilh

the Nazi-occupied france antigone. loved the meta commentary on what tragedy is and how antigone has to step into the Role of Antigone, which will kill her “but there’s nothing she can do. her name is antigone and she will have to play her part through to the end”. i didn’t really like (esp. given the ~historical context) the choice to make creon much more sympathetic, trying to save antigone’s life from the beginning. hmm. 3.5/5

antigonick, anne carson

look, antigone really is That Bitch and you know what? so is anne carson. best thing i’ve read so far this year, don’t ask me about it or i’ll yell the task of the translator of antigone at you. 5/5

home fire, kamila shamsie

honestly i really wanted to like this bc politically it’s on point and an anti-islamophobia antigone sounds amazing, but it just doesn’t succeed as a book/adaption. it spends way too much time in build-up/backstory (the play’s plot only starts in the second half of the book!), waaayyy to much time on the weirdly fetishistic antigone/haimon romance, and even the most interesting characters (ismene & creon) don’t fully work out. sad. 2/5

currently reading: the magic mountain by thomas mann, but i should be done in a week or so! also: the paper menagerie by ken liu, a collection of sff short stories

[summerseachild]

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I rewatched season 3.

The story so far: For those of you following along, I’ve been gearing up for watching the GoT I haven’t seen (the back half of season 5 and beyond) by rewatching the stuff I HAVE seen. It’s been... an experience. I’m coping with my fury by squeeing over the things I loved and foaming at the mouth over the things I hated. 

The finale aired between my season 2 and 3 rewatch, and I am full of snark, but everything is also hilarious.

3x01

1. GHOST IS THE GOODEST BOY. Also everyone BE NICER TO SAM. Every time I see Kit and Rose together on screen I go, “Awww they’re gonna be married.” So happy this show brought them together.

2. Ciarán Hinds as Mande Rayder was SUCH epic good casting. I want to watch all of Rome now.

3. Davos is a salty old cat with nine lives and I was SO happy to see him alive. And then he RISKS ONE OF THEM being loyal to Stannis. That’s some Ned Stark levels of honor.

4. Michael McElhatton’s voice is so amazingly creepy I love and hate it all at the same time.

5. That first scene we get with Tyrion and Tywin is A LOT. Tyrion just wants a little bit of recognition and it’s SO SAD. (Also how did Tywin have the lions put up in his office so soon? SO EXTRA.) And wtf is up with Tywin intimating that Tyrion might be a bastard? So glad they dropped that. Who ended up Lord of Casterly Rock though? DOes AnYoNE EveN CaRE?

6. Sansa and Shae playing the game with the ships is... so cute. We overly imaginative people have all had that friend like Shae who’s like WHAT IS THE POINT OF PRETENDING.

7. Ok teenage Drogon cooking his food in midair before eating it was pretty cool.

8. Is that the Stranger on the wall of the building where Margaery talks to the orphans? In the middle of the seven pointed star? It looks CREEPY.

9. The epic Queen-off between Margaery and Cersei IS ON. (For the record Cersei’s armor dress is FANTASTIC.) Also, Jack Gleeson saying “charitable” like it’s a word in a foreign language he’s never heard before is GREAT.

10. You can see the seeds of Missandei being a fantastic diplomat for Queen Daenerys. :( Also, I wonder if Jorah knows she speaks Valyrian as he watched all of this unfold...

3x02

1. I wonder if what Talisa says about how Westerosi are viewed across the narrow sea, as barbarians who smell, is accurate. It makes sense...

2. OH SHIT THEON GETTING TORTURED IS IN THIS EPISODE I WAS NOT READY

3. Latest on a List of insults Brienne puts up with from Jaime: “giant towheaded plank.” He is such a shit. And the way he SWITCHES on a dime from so obviously baiting her to being DEAD serious with the “we don’t get to choose who we love” line... so very him.

4. Sansa and the Tyrells! Those gardens are SO incredibly pretty, and Diana Rigg is SO GOOD as Olenna. May I have half her wit when I’m her age. Getting info out of Sansa on Joffrey was SMART.

5. I love that we get a sense that there are different cultures and languages North of the Wall.

6. HOLY SHIT HI MACKENZIE CROOK I FORGOT YOU WERE IN THIS YOU ADORABLE STRING BEAN.

7. Reeeeeds! Jojen and Mira were so exciting when we first met them...

8. BROTHERHOOOOOD Without Banners SO COOL. And underused.

9. Jaime and Brienne are AT A BRIDGE and NOTHING IS OK enjoy the hand while you have it ,Jaime my love.

3x03

1. Lannister family musical chairs is SO GREAT and Tyrion and Cersei have SUCH BITCHY FACES AT EACH OTHER.

2. They tell Chuck Norris jokes about Brynden the Blackfish, don’t they.

3. Stannis: Men have been trying to kill me for years. Me: Well maybe they need to send a WOMAN TO DO IT. (yeeeeaaaaah Brienne)

4. Dany is a woman with a plan and watching Jorah and Ser Barristan freak out about her possibly giving up one of her dragons is kind of funny.

5. I had forgotten how COMMITTED Ramsay is to his “helping Theon” ruse.” Fuuuuuck.

6. Jaime losing his hand DOES NOT GET ANY EASIER TO WATCH.

3x04

1. Jaime Lannister and the No Good Very Bad Deathwish huuuurts meee. It’s so good Brienne was around.

2. Varys and the sorcerer in a box.... SO CREEPY. Do we ever get resolution on that?? Anyway it made me flat out terrified of the implacability of Varys’ revenge at the time, and Conleth Hill PLAYS IT.

3. The Sept is SO PRETTY way to go CGI folks. That whole scene is just GORGEOUS with the light framing Margaery and Joffrey and Cersei moving in and out of shadow...

4. Theon’s “all he had to do was be” re: Robb hit me RIGHT IN THE FEELS also wow show Theon was really Gay For Robb and you will not convince me otherwise. (Watching him pour his heart out to Ramsay makes me physically ill... whYyYYy am I sober...)

5. I still maintain that show Brienne is WAAAAAY meaner than book Brienne about Jaime’s “leave me alone I’m dying” phase in ways that are really out of character and I HATE IT. Also losing a HAND is not “a little bit of misfortune.” And SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT.

6. Cersei being like “I’ve been listening more than your sons” to Tywin. And Tywin being an ASSHOLE in response instead of FUCKING TELLING HER HOW TO DO BETTER with Joffrey makes me so angry.

7. “If Robb Stark falls Sansa Stark is the key to the North” YOU DON’T SAY VARYS

8. I am... sadder than I remember being about Jeor Mormont dying.

9. I. Like. Anguy. What HAPPENED to him? Also Beric is... intense, but I love him. (And Thoros was IN THE KEEP the day the baby Targaryens died?)

10. And ARYA GETTING TO TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT MYCAH TO ADULTS WHO LISTEN YES GOOD.

11. Dany hands that Dragon over COOL AS A CUCUMBER WHAT A QUEEN and theN the reveal that she SPEAKS FLUENT VALYRIAN AND DRACARYS AND I THINK I LOVE HER EVEN MORE OUT OF SPITE THIS TIME

3x05

1. Sandor Clegane trying to CHOP HIS OWN WOODEN SHIELD OFF HIS ARM because it’s on fire... wow. That whole scene is IMPRESSIVE. That was a fight that was TRIGGERY AS FUCK for him with all the fire and he still came out on top.

2. This is the episode where Jon and Jaime both get baths! Jon’s was a lot more fun. He got to have sex first. Jaime’s is preceded by being like “take any more of my arm than you have to and die” to Qyburn and a lot of screaming.

3. I CAN BE YOUR FAMILY ALSHAKDHSAG I AM SO ANGRY ARYA AND GENDRY DON’T END UP IN THE SAME PLACE. IT DIDN’T HAVE TO BE SCHMOOPY IT JUST NEEDED TO BE TOGETHER.

4. Every time I see Catelyn looking empty and far away in these scenes I see the Lady Stoneheart that could have been.

5. ROBB DON’T TRY TO BE YOUR DAD LISTEN TO YOUR MOM AND WIFE AND UNCLE. UGH RICHARD’S ACTING IN THAT EXECUTION SCENE THOUGH IT HURTS ME.

6. Beric Dondarion’s voice is amazing. I’m noticing voices more this time around...

7. Shireen Baratheon! What a precious little Princess! Her friendship with Davos is the best thing ever and SHE DESERVED BETTER.

8. Jaime and Brienne in the bath is funny when Jaime’s a shit until it gets very very serious and everything hurts and both of them are better actors than this show deserved. Jaime remembering URGING AERYS TO SURRENDER PEACEFULLY MAKES WHAT HAPPENS IN THE END HURT. He... hasn’t told that story to many people in its entirety and aaaaahhhh my feelings and him telling Brienne MY NAME IS JAIME I CANNOT WITH THEM.

9. Grey Worm is so handsome, and the more I see of Jacob Anderson in the behind the scenes stuff the more awesome he gets.

10. Ugh Cersei my love don’t be so smug about Tyrion and Sansa (Also Tyrion BRINGING UP TYSHA HOLY SHIT I FORGOT) Cersei and Tyrion both look so miserable at the end of that scene I just want to FUCKING THROTTLE TYWIN. Which is how I felt in the books here so KUDOS TO ALL INVOLVED.

3x06

1. I LOVE that we get to hear the Faith of the Seven’s version of “Jesus loves me” and I love that it’s Sam who sings it.

2. Meera holding Jojen while he has his vision/seizure like she’s done it a thousand times before... so sweet. I love that taking care of those who need it is just... part of who she is, and we need more people who are caring AND badass.

3. I forgot that Arya got an archery lesson from Anguy and I love it.

4. Melisandre being like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RAISED BERIC SIX TIMES to Thoros is great. Who knows what any of that means now but in the moment wow. Also WTF I FORGOT THEY GAVE GENDRY TO MELISANDRE

5. Ygritte asking Jon if he’s staring at her ass while climbing is so great. Way to know how good you look, girl!

6. Everyone at Riverrun: GROW UP EDMURE.

7. Jaime Being like BRIENNE DO NOT STAB BOLTON I GOT THIS = friendship goals

8. Cersei and Tyrion talking about their impending miserable marriages and not being entirely awful to each other gives me a bit of joy even as I weep for all of them.

9. I laughed for a long time at Varys line calling the Iron Throne “The Lysa Arryn of chairs.”

10. That last shot of Jon and Ygritte kissing is SO PRETTY. Everything at the top of the wall is, really.

3x07: GET BEHIND ME WENCH DON’T YOU SEE THE BEAR

1. Oh GRRM wrote this one. Cool.

2. Brynden Tully calling Walder Frey a wet shit is delightful. I love him so.

3. Do we ever find out if Talisa was telling the truth about writing to her mother? Or any sort of mention of her again since she’s nobility in Volantis and it might be a thing that she got murdered? No?

4. TORMUND TALKING ABOUT FOREPLAY IS HYSTERICAL HE IS THE BOYFRIEND BRIENNE DESERVES

5. Protective Dragons are Protective

6. Please TAKE OUR SHIP AND OUR GOLD AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF ESSOS: the Yunkai emissary, basically.

7. Poor Gendry. What a way to find out your dad was King Robert... Melisandre has a flair for the dramatic.

8. Jaime is bad at goodbyes especially when Brienne called him Ser Jaime instead of Kingslayer.

9. Ygritte threatening to blacken Jon’s eye if he tears her hypothetical silk dress.. THIS is how you write a badass girl who also likes pretty things.

10. Jaime jumping into that ring and continuing to throw his influence around for Brienne... yes good. He’s lucky that bear didn’t get his FOOT TOO though. And that last “Sorry about the Sapphires” to Locke as he’s leaving.... he just can’t help himself he HAS TO POKE PEOPLE VERBALLY EVEN WHEN IT’S DANGEROUS.

3x08: the One with the Other Other Wedding

1. Travels with Sandor and Arya is such a good show.

2. Davos trying to read is SO CUTE. And Stannis coming to Davos for advice and free him says a lot about a Stannis’ character at this point in the show.

3. Hey! It’s the first Daario!

4. Tyrion tried so hard to be kind. I’m glad he and Sansa seem to end on good terms.

5. Cersei being like “I see how you are trying to be my friend and I want NONE OF IT” to Margaery and then telling the story of house Reyne is a power move.

6. Joffrey moving Tyrion’s step stool at the wedding  was a DICK MOVE but I love the look Tywin gives people who are laughing. (And Tyrion And Sansa making the best of a bad situation and Sansa weakly smiling at him when he makes the the joke about the wine before the ceremony is sweet)

7. NOBODY CARES WHAT YOUR FATHER ONCE TOLD YOU YES CERSEI MY QUEEN 👑

8. Tyrion pretending to be drunker than he was to get him and Sansa out of that room and away from Joffrey and the bedding ceremony is SO SAD but smart.

9. Sam cooing and fussing over that baby is the sweetest thing ever.

10. SAM KILLING THAT WHITE WALKER IS LIKE NEVILLE KILLING NAGINI CHANGE MY MIND WAIT YOU CANNOT HE’S SO BRAVE AND I LOVE HIM

3x09: The Rains of MY TEARS ABOUT THE RED WEDDING

I have a RUM and coke ready to go let’s do this

1. Robb asking Catelyn’s advice after he didn’t listen toher about Theon and the Ironborn :...(

2. Those POOR FREY GIRLS are they ok? I hope Arya didn’t kill any of them since they didn’t ask to be Walder the Worst’s daughters and granddaughters.

3. Grey Worm stepping into a leadership role ❤️

4. So... was Castle Black abandoned at the END of Jahaerys’ reign? I feel like the castles were mostly manned at the beginning of his reign? Gotta check on that.

5. In which Jon and Arya are both concerned about innocent small folk.

6. I FORGOT HOW CLOSE ARYA GETS TO THE TWINS

7. I ALSO FORGOT HOW CLOSE BRAN AND RICKON GOT TO JON. And... So much warging and direwolf action!

8. Daario Grey Worm And Jorah make a badass team gotta say.

9. HOLY SHIT MY WIFE JUST POINTED OUT THAT ROSLIN IS ANNE FROM THE MUSKETEERS. I knew I loved that face in a way I hadn’t before when she took off that veil!

10. Byyyyyyeeee Shaggy and Rickon and Osha!

11. Robb and Talisa decided to name the baby Eddard  right before shit went down and I am NOT OK.

12. Fuck me that song HERE WE GO FOLKS.

13. Ugh Catelyn figured out what was about to happen right before. I had forgotten that. All the things that weren’t ok any of the other times are still not ok.

14. GREYWIND NO and now the crying

15. Catelyn with her knife to that Frey girl’s throat is so desperately sad Michelle Fairley BROUGHT IT and I hate everything

3x10: Of Course I’m watching this right after the Red Wedding what do you suggest I do instead? Sit on the couch and cry? (Because that’s definitely what I was gonna do if I didn’t start the next one.)

1. I never noticed Sandor picking up the FREY banner very intentionally smart man. Which I am choosing to focus on because...

2. if I never see Robb’s body with Greywind’s head again it will be too soon.

3. Tyrion and Sansa talking about how to get back at people who laugh at them like they’re friends ❤️❤️❤️

4. Any man who must say I am the king is no true king TELL IT LIKE IT IS TYWIN.

5. Tywin: 1 Joffrey: -15 I’ve been waiting for that throwdown for a while now.

6. Tywin really believes what he’s saying about putting family first. And that STORY ABOUT NEARLY DROWNING TYRION OMG.

7. Ugh Sansa knooooows about the RW and Tyrion just walks away because he’s the last “family” she wants to see.

8. Scary stories at the Night Fort! Like the Rat King... Bran’s a good ghost story teller.

9. WHAT A TRANSITION TO WALDER FREY after all that talk of guest right

10. Can’t wait for dogs to eat Ramsay because Theon’s pleas to be killed turns my stomach and make me see red all at once LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU BASTARD

11. Oh jeez this is where we get the Reek thing in the show. Theon says his own name twice before Ramsay hurts him enough he calls himself Reek and Alfie is SO GOOD I HATE IT

12. Oh right Sam & Co are in the Nightfort too!

13. Yarra not being ok with Balon abandoning Theon GIVES ME LIFE. She’s just so disgusted with her dad AS SHE SHOULD BE.

14. Greyjoys DO NOT DO AS THEY ARE TOLD and I love Yarra.

15. Don’t talk too much shit about highborns Gendry You’re gonna be one.

16. Varys and Shae talking is SO INTERESTING. I... think Varys has some points, and I think she should have listened, taken the diamonds, and peaced out of King’s Landing.

17. That Cersei and Tyrion scene where they talk about her children keeping her alive HURTS MY SOUL SO MUCH.

18. Arya stabbing the fuck out of that Frey bragging about sewing Greywind’s head on gives me SO MUCH SATISFACTION. Also Sandor being like “TELL ME next time we’re gonna do murder, ok kid?” Is THE BEST.

19. I love that Davos is the one we get to see reading the letter Maester Aemon writes.

20. DAVOS MAKES A CHOICE AND IT’S THE RIGHT ONE. Do you know how to swim?? No. ... Don’t fall out. 😂

21. Jaime is hoooooome in King’s Lannister and I have Lannister feels spilling ALL OVER THE PLACE.

22. Oh right and Dany has a whole bunch of people calling her mom in whatever variety of Valyrian they speak in Yunkai. That was a thing. 

[lids-flutter-open]

gay goth boy trans ftm4ftm story chapter 4 under cut. 

content warning: f*g used by gays in punk songs/underage substance use

Chapter 4

Goat Mansion already had a lot of people sitting outside when I got there, which was way too early. The sun was still on the edge of the horizon. I parked my car two streets away, since I don’t like being a designated driver for more than my friends. I walked over to the house, approaching from the street side, and saw the gaggle of people from half a block away. They were sitting on the sidewalk and gathered in a little circle near the fence that divides Goat Mansion space from the edge of the public lands by the train tracks. The teenage goth kids were fraternizing with some crust punks and some people who might have been homeless teenagers from the group that lives in the train tunnel downtown. I didn’t recognize anyone, which made sense because OVID was coming from out of town so probably brought out different fans. One of the teenage goth kids had a thing of cheap boxed red wine but had taken the wine bag out of the box and was passing it around to her friends, having everyone chug, shouting BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD. One of the girls with her let the wine overflow her mouth and run down to soak into her black mesh shirt. They were all about my age or a little younger. I thought it looked like fun, but I don’t like drinking, so I didn’t get too close as I made my way around the house to the back. I knew people would be starting a bonfire. 

Bonfires in late summer are hard, because lately there’s been a burn ban for longer and longer into the autumn. This September, there hadn’t been enough rain to totally put everyone in the clear. And nobody wants to start a wildfire. But Goat Mansion has a rock pit that’s pretty big, and it’s easy to put out the fire with sand and water if it gets too much or starts sparking. When I got there, Acorn was piling the logs up and working with a piece of flint to spark it. Xie doesn’t use any gasoline because, again, too much risk for a big burn that gets out of control. 

“Hey,” I said to Acorn. “Seen anyone from Rocketpizza yet?”

Acorn turned. “Oh, hey, James,” xie said. Xie nodded hir head towards the sliding doors at the back of the house. “Just Ian. I think he was with Ken earlier, but Ken said something about 4Lokos and walked to the store and hasn’t come back.”

“Who’s buying Ken 4Lokos? That sounds like a bad start to the night,” I said. “Has anyone here brought up that sober space thing they’re trying at Fleur’s North? Suggested having a sober only show sometimes?”

“No, we’ve always kinda been a party house. Not likely to change. Somewhere needs to be messy. People don’t like it, they move. Why?”

“There’s definitely some visible and intense public underage drinking happening out front right now.”

“Shit,” Acorn said. “Is it those goth kids?” Xie pushed hir hair out of hir eyes. Acorn has really long hair and a beard that increases in both length and glossy volume every time I see hir.  Xie wears mascara to shows. Tonight xie had on a Carly Rae Jepsen shirt and a plaid skirt. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Nobody from Compton, but definitely under eighteen. You want me to go tell them to come back here and be more discreet?”

“Just like, get them some water and tell them to chill. They’re gonna pass out before the show even starts, or start moshing and hurting someone. I hate when there’s too many teens at shows. No offense,” xie added. “I forget you’re a teen because you’re chill.”

“I don’t drink much. If I did I’d probably be rowdier. It is a teen band tonight. Or like, two, actually. With Quince Quest.”

“Maybe I’ll make some food and cultivate a chill pre-show vibe and get some calories in the kids. Some bread. It’s not that I don’t want them to enjoy music.” Acorn prodded the little fire that was starting in the pit. “Just like, read the agreements for the space that we put on all the doors of the space, you know?”

The agreements, for Goat Mansion, on all the doors, were as follows:

NO NAZIS OR RAPISTS.

DO NOT fucking come to a show looking to start a fucking fight. 

NO COPS

Don’t get fucking wasted before 10 PM. 

Don’t touch anyone without asking

NO SMOKING OR DRINKING ON THE STOOP. Come to the backyard.

DO NOT MESS AROUND ON THE STREET! Come to the backyard.

IF YOU MAKE A MESS HELP CLEAN IT.

IF THERE IS NO TOILET PAPER, OR THE TOILET FLOODS, PLEASE YELL FOR ASSISTANCE. DO NOT SNEAK AWAY. 

FOR REAL ABSOLUTELY NO DRINKING OR SMOKING ON STOOP. FOR REAL. THERE IS A BACKYARD.

It was a pretty concise list that covered most things that anyone cared about. And it was pretty easy to follow, though of course I had no way of knowing if any nazis or rapists ignored the first bullet point. 

I went around the corner of the house and into the kitchen. I filled a big old plastic pitcher that seemed relatively clean with tap water and grabbed a sleeve of plastic cups from under the sink. I knew where everything was here, even though I didn’t have any friends who lived here any more except Acorn. Last year I had been the one to clean the kitchen for the first time in a decade and stock it with plastic cups. If you don’t have cups everyone ends up drinking out of the tap like dogs or just getting disgustingly dehydrated. 

“Hey,” I called to the goth kids, stepping out on the front porch, “You all look like you might need some water soon.”

“Thanks,” the mesh shirt girl said. 

“You’re starting early. Can you bring the party around back? We don’t like annoying neighbor people too much. They call the cops sometimes,” I said. “There’s more room back there, too.” I felt okay bossing them because none of the goth kids would have the nerve to question the authority of someone who was wearing safety pin earrings like they were. 

“No problem,” the girl holding the blood bag of wine said. She giggled to her friends, probably about how messy they were being. 

I sat around with the goths by the smoking baby bonfire and smoked a bowl alone before I saw Ian. He was walking quickly around the corner of the house, looking like the human embodiment of that cat meme where the cat is grimacing. I got up and jogged after him. 

“What’s the deal with Ken?” I asked, catching him by the elbow. “Heard he like left and didn’t come back?”

“Don’t fucking ask,” Ian said. He had glitter makeup on, which I thought was cute, if a little 2012. He looked really good. “Ken’s fucking gone as far as I’m concerned. Which is whatever. We knew this day was coming.”

“Wait, Rocketpizza is still performing, right?”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “Some kid from Centralia who’s playing drums for Quince Quest is here, she said she’d do drums for me.  We went over the basic stuff with the songs earlier. She can’t be any worse than Ken would be. He was getting plastered at noon when I went over there today. I have no idea where he is.”

“Dude, that fucking sucks,” I said. 

“I mean, you guys were all absolutely correct about him. I’m stressed right now but I’ll be fine.”

“Where’s swimmer boy?”

“We broke up.”

“Shit, dude.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll process with you tomorrow.”

“You need help with merch?”

“Yes, absolutely. Later, though. No point right now. After the show. Right now we’re doing music setup shit since we’re on first.”

“At least you’ll have a crowd.”

“These druggy Seattle kids?” Ian rolled his eyes.

“They’re just drunk. I’m working on hydrating them.”

The sun was going down, and more people were arriving. I put Ian’s merch in a taped up box underneath the table by the door that had been set up to collect people’s pay-what-you-can donations to Goat Mansion. I wanted to talk to him more, but it was clear that wasn’t gonna happen. I sat with the table. Acorn was drawing smiley faces on the hands of people who paid. People who didn’t pay and didn’t get smiley faces wouldn’t get kicked out, but they might get snarked at by someone if they were being obnoxious and they wouldn’t be allowed to drink any house alcohol. Everyone expected the show to start one to three hours after the posted start time, but everyone turned up at the time on the posters anyway to smoke or catch up with people or drop their backpacks and walk eighteen blocks away to the store to buy beer. The sun slanted through the windows like liquid gold and someone put a VHS of Fire Walk With Me on in the living room, where it already smelled like cigarettes. It was all cis men in there, who seemed like they all knew each other and might be shitheads, so I stayed outside once the merch was set up. Everyone in the backyard was vivid shades of gold and pink and brown against the bright green of the trees. The smoke was rising more and more out of the fire pit. That was when I saw the guy from King David’s. Orsino. He was getting out of a pickup truck.

His hair was still fucked up and wispy orange and crackly from bleach, and he had a fucked up little mustache still, but he was wearing a different stupid shirt. This one was black, had a big gray alien head on it, and it said ROSWELL. It was tighter around his chest and stomach and arms than the dolphin shirt had been at the diner. He was wearing ripped up pants that terminated just below his knee. They looked like they’d been chewed by dogs. His calves were thick and covered in dark hair. He had on hiking boots with wool socks. He didn’t see me. As soon as he got out of the car, he turned back and started talking to someone on the driver’s side of the car. He was still somewhere between pretty hot and extremely hot. 

I saw the person get out on the other side of the car and realized that it was Jukebox. Jukebox had a guitar case with them and stuck around for just a second before heading into the garage, where I knew that Ian was setting up. Orsino said something to them and then walked toward the house, lighting a cigarette as he went.

I wondered what Orsino’s personality was like. I didn’t know Orsino at all. But I felt something about him already—something sort of like what Therese feels for Carol when she first sees Carol in The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith or Carol (2015). When her eyes go wide and she knows it doesn’t matter what happens next, because the important thing has already happened. She’s seen her. Or maybe that was dramatic, but like, I was a little stoned. I wondered if I should go say hi. 

“James!” Opal shouted at me from across the yard. 

I looked over to see Opal and Barb and Goober coming towards me, accompanied by a dude I didn’t know. Opal was wheeling their chair over the mangled grass. I hoped that there weren’t any nails around that might puncture the tires.

“Oh hey,” I said, waving. 

“Jamie!” Barb rushed in and gave me a hug. She has pink short hair and lots of sun freckles and deep wrinkles around her eyes. If you ignore her skin, she looks like she’s about sixteen. She’s always sort of manic and I think she’s really smart but you probably have to wait until four in the morning for her to start talking about smart people things. She reminds me of a version of my mom that took up dance and punk music and boxing instead of becoming a teacher. 

“This is Duke,” Opal said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the man. I looked up at him. He didn’t look trans. He had a really curly head of long back hair and a thick beard and a lot of tattoos and smiley eyes. He looked like a biker that a country singer would date.

“Sup,” Duke said. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re meeting everyone tonight,” Goober said, throwing her blond hair over one shoulder. “James works at Compton House too, with the teen council thing.”

“Hey Duke,” I said. “Nice to meet you. You like OVID?” I gave him a man handshake, with a firm grip. He looked like he would respect that.

“Yeah, since they got started I’ve come to almost every show,” Duke said. “Me and Stacey go way back.”

“Barb used to date Stacey, right?” I asked. “Is that how you guys know each other?” I wasn’t going to allude to the fact that Barb and Duke were fucking. 

“Kind of,” Barb said. She sat down on a stump next to me. “I love that we’re all here at this show together. I feel a great kind of continuity.” She grinned up at Duke, who looked at her with the most disgustingly lovey gaze I have ever seen in this world. I looked at Opal, who shrugged. 

“You seen Ian yet?” I asked Opal. 

“No. What’s up?” Opal could tell in my voice that something was wrong. 

“Ken is drunk somewhere and Ian is gonna do the show with a replacement drummer,” I said. 

“What? Who?”

“Some kid from the other band. Quince Quest.”

“The fuck he is. I’m gonna drum for him. I have to join his band,” Opal said. They started rolling their chair backward and pivoting it toward the garage.

“Maybe later,” I said. “Not tonight. He’s stressed. Swimmer boy troubles. Drummer troubles. Too much. He’ll snap at you.”

“I know his songs, dude,” Opal said. “I know he’s stressed, but I can do it better than a quince kid. I’ve been practicing on the drums at Barb’s.” 

“Do you need help getting to the garage?” I asked. There was a lot of gravel between here and there.

“I’m good, dude.” Opal turned away from me, and I felt a little abandoned.

“Do you want backup?”

“Let them go talk to him,” Goober said. “You’ll be all touchy feely and Opal will just boss him. That’s what he needs.”

“You said it,” Opal yelled over their shoulder. 

Duke turned to me. His eyes were irrepressibly crinkly. “So James. Barb talks about you and Opal and Compton House all the time. How long have you been on the Compton House teen council? What do you think of it?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to give this guy too much of a leg up on the competition if he was really applying to be director. “I mean, it’s very important. We did an awareness training for a church two weeks ago about mental health and teens. I feel like I’m connected to local politics and stuff, even if it means I know the dirt about everyone.”

Barb laughed. 

“You remind me of me. I was involved in the first committee for Ladyfest when it happened here in 2000,” Duke said. “I was on security. I sat in on all the meetings for planning.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Continuity.” 

I looked away from Duke and Barb, hoping they’d see someone they knew and go talk to them. 

***

It was two hours later when word spread slowly through the mass of people that the show was starting. The sun had gone down and I had three mosquito bites, even though it should have been too cold. There was standing water in one of the barrels behind Goat Mansion, and that always meant the mosquitos survived longer here than anywhere. Everyone but me was getting drunk. I hadn’t gotten any closer to Orsino, though he’d caught my eye just before everyone went down to the garage and crowded in through the single side door. I thought I saw him smile, but I could have been wrong. 

The room was dark and ugly and packed. There are lights on the stage and then a tangle of wires near the stage that some fire safety expert was supposed to probably evaluate at some point after the Ghost Ship fire, but I don’t think it ever happened. There’s a lot of random piles of shit near the door that should be a main point of egress, and people sit on it like it’s benches at a ball game. It’s definitely not structurally stable. The lights that shine down on the tiny little stage are beautiful. Tonight there was pink and red gels over them, so it looked like a sex party or a weird pretty Hell. 

Ian was wearing his fishnet arm wraps, a lot of glitter, and Goober’s leather miniskirt that that she’d worn to Pride in June. His wrists were covered in bangles. His chest was bare. His hair was sort of flopping over his face. He was fumbling with a lot of wires onstage. Opal was behind the drums. I hadn’t actually heard Opal play before, since they’d only started after they moved to Barb’s house. I didn’t know if they were good or not, but I guessed that they might be if they were going up. Opal was pretty clear-headed and wouldn’t put themselves on the spot if they thought they’d fail. Devon had on his normal clothes and looked pissed as fuck, but he was tuning his bass just the same. 

“ROCKETPIZZA!!!!!” Barb yelled. Some of the goths yelled too, as did the cis men who had been watching a movie inside. There were suddenly a lot of people around me, and I was worried about my feet getting stepped on by the dudes with the steel toed boots. I’m not dumb enough to wear non-sturdy footwear to a show, but I’m small.

Ian looked into the crowd, squinting. I don’t know if he knows Barb’s voice well enough to recognize a screech. He dropped some wires and stepped to the mic. 

“HEY BITCHES AND BABES AND FAGGOTS,” he yelled into the crowd. His voice got soft on the last word. There was a mix of cheers and uncomfortable muttering. Ian was oblivious to the latter. “HOW ARE YOU DOING?”

Barb and Duke both bellowed at the stage, incoherent jumbled exuberance. Old punks at least know how to bellow. 

“I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’M DOING,” Ian yelled into the mic, which twanged painfully over the speakers. “MY BOYFRIEND AND I JUST BROKE UP AND I LOST MY OLD DRUMMER BECAUSE HE IS A DUMBASS.”

There were some confused boos and apologetic noises, particularly from the goths near the front of the stage. All the teen goths were pretty far gone. I saw one of them swaying in her heels.

“BUT THAT IS OKAY,” Ian continued. “ROCKETPIZZA DIED TONIGHT. I LOOK GREAT. OPAL LOOKS GREAT ON DRUMS. GIVE IT UP FOR OPAL.”

I yelled at the top of my lungs, feeling like it was a kind of weird ecstatic prayer. The guy with a beard next to me moved away from me in surprise.

“WE ARE A NEW GROUP NOW. OUR NAME IS MISS SAN JUAN AND THE DUSTIES. YOU’RE HERE TO WITNESS THE BIRTH OF A GOOFY NEW QUEERCORE BAND. ISN’T THAT EXCITING?”

Ian was good at riling up a crowd. People were getting more interested in this seventeen year old twink yelling at them. 

“ALSO YOU WILL PROBABLY WITNESS THE DEATH OF MY VOCAL CHORDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO SCREAM MY GUTS OUT. THIS IS A NEW SONG. IT IS CALLED FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE.” Ian shook his head and smiled and blinked in the way that had made me fall sort of in love with him when we were fifteen. 

The drunk baby goths went hog wild, and I screamed at the top of my lungs again and whistled through the gap in my teeth, like my grandmother had taught me to do when I was five.

Then Ian opened his mouth to sing. 

(insert here: a piece of torn notebook paper, with the title: FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE LYRICS)

THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA SHAKE ME 

FROM THE POOL OF BLACK INK

ATOP YOUR FIRE ESCAPE

I BREATHE IN THE STINK

OF YOUR SMELLY BALLS

I FEEL NOTHING AT ALL 

THE PLANETS WERE ALIGNED

NOW WE’RE BADLY COMBINED

SOLO QUIERO LLEVAR TUS BRAGAS

SOLO QUIERO TOCAR TU BOCA

SOLO QUIERO TENER TUS LLAGAS

PARA TERMINAR ESTA EPOCA

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

WE ARE SMASHING THE WORLD

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

YOUR DEPRESSED BITCH GIRL

BOY 

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

BOY

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

FILL MY MIND WITH SMOKE 

SMOKE IT IN YOUR BONG

GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE

SO LONG SO LONG

WE DON’T WANT IT OR NEED IT

I NEED YOU TO BEAT IT

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

FUCK 

(end paper)

When Ian’s set ended fifteen minutes later, the pit had fully opened up. 

People were swaying and had been punching and pushing into each other. I’d gotten slammed against the wall twice and had been shoved into someone’s armpit four times. Which was like, not normal for an opening band. Usually people just stood awkwardly staring with their PBRs in their hands, rocking a little or jamming their heads if the band was good. But some combination of everyone already being wasted and of Opal’s drumming—which was actually really good—and of Ian jumping fully into the air…everyone got electrified somehow. I felt my B.O swelling up toward the ceiling with everyone else’s and the heat from us all supercharging the air like it was some kind of ancient magically charged sweat house made of old cedar in the deep wilderness of the Russian steppe. Ian’s glitter was dripping down his chest in waves. I felt my own shirt soaking with the sweat. My lungs hurt from yelling, and I was reeling still. I watched Ian turn and unplug his amp and walk offstage just before the crush of bodies trying to get out into the cold air totally obscured my view of him. I tried to keep my head above the crowd, thanking god that I wasn’t super sensitive to noise, smells, or sensory overstimulation.

“That was incredible,” a voice behind me said. I didn’t recognize it. I turned slightly. Jukebox January was behind me, smiling. Their chin hairs were darker than I remembered them.  They were shorter than me. They had smudged pink eyeliner in one long band around their eyes. Their shirt was torn so I could see one of their nipples through the fabric.

“Yeah,” I said. “It got so hot in here so fast. We gotta wait a bit for the air to cool down before yours, huh.”

“That set!” Jukebox exclaimed. “Like, that was phenomenal! So good and raw but also like, they’re real! They’re so good. We gotta get this kid a record deal so fast if he wants to sell out! He’s your friend, right?”

I smiled. I felt so happy for Ian. He loved OVID. Tonight had been hard, but it was going to turn out so good for him.  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m James. We go to school together. I’ve known him a long ass time. He’s so good.”

“What’s going on with the band?” Jukebox asked. Their teeth were all showing in their smile. “Some shuffling stuff? Do you think the current situation will hold together? They literally sounded so so good.”

“I literally don’t even know,” I said. “But he loves you, he loves OVID. Like he and his  followed you to the Gorge this summer and then down to the Bay when you were on tour. You should talk to him.” I was glad I was able to be so chill when my heart was pounding into my ears from the adrenaline. 

“Let’s go,” Jukebox said. “I gotta touch base with my bandmates in a second but I wanna give him props. What’s his full name? Does he go by Miss San Juan? Or she?”

“Ian,” I said. “Ian Arroyo. And he uses he/him, at least for now.”

“Cool. What about you?”

“James,” I said. I led Jukebox out into the yard. The cool night air with the smell of decay and everything hit my skin and my mouth all at the same time. It was a second before I saw Ian over by the truck with Opal in the dark. Opal was smoking, and Ian was moving something in the bed of the truck. I screamed loud and high pitched as we got close so he could hear me. 

“That was incredible, bitch!” 

Ian turned. He smiled weakly. “I’m so so so shaking,” he yelled back. His bare chest was getting goosebumps in the cold. He was so beautiful. 

“Look who I brought,” I yelled, thrusting a thumb back at Jukebox, who lifted a hand in greeting. Ian stood up immediately. He leapt over the side of the truck bed to land on both feet in the gravel in front of us. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” Jukebox said. “That was incredible. I wanted to make sure you knew. I’m Jukebox.”

“I know,” Ian said. “I can’t wait for your set. I’m so so tired but I’m gonna stay here till the end.”

“I literally haven’t ever played drums live before,” Opal said.

“You were great for all that,” Jukebox said.

I turned away from them and turned toward the bonfire. I tried to make out through the dark who was still here that I knew. People were dancing a little near the fire and there was a cluster of lit cigarette ends floating in the shadows just beyond my field of vision.

“Come hang out with me,” Jukebox was saying to Ian. “My friends are over here. My girlfriend Robin was loving your set too, but she has issues with moshing so had to step out when it got intense. Someone threw a bottle and it nearly hit her.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Opal said. 

We moved over toward the patch of the yard where Jukebox’s friends were. I could smell the smoke and the blackberries and the wood and sweat and smoke and I felt like I was still on some kind of crazy high. Orsino was sitting there, like I knew he would be. There was a space next to him on the log he was sitting on. He looked up and smirked at me and I sat down next to him without a second thought. 

[kitlcuis]

[ mitch grassi, demiboy, flexible pronouns, 20 ] SEDATED by HOZIER? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of CHRISTOPHER 'KIT' LOUIS. maybe because they’re ETHEREAL but also ABSTRACTED. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since SEPTEMBER of 2018 in APARTMENT 203 and have 1 ROOMMATE.

tws – substance use/abuse, toxic relationships, & v brief mention of homophobia

here is darling kit. he’s slightly more of a mess than his sweet little face may give off and i hope you accept a bit of chaos here because… kit does not come quietly! anyways!! also this is a lot longer than i intended so skip to the bottom if you’d like a SUMMARY

hails from one of the northern states on the west coast. he grew up in a strict religious household which felt stifling and limiting from as early as age 4 when he had to wear a bowtie to easter mass when he wanted to wear one of the cute flowery bonnets the girls got to wear

christopher had a very rigid childhood for this reason. his family lived comfortably but it was only perfect on the surface. underneath the glamour of the picturesque family unit there were cracks – splintering shards that would eventually drive a wedge between the louis parents and their only child

kit knew pretty early on that he wasn’t straight – ironically enough, getting the idea from all the anti-gay rhetoric from the church. it gave him the keywords he needed to uncover things like homosexuality and genderfluidity. he also knew to keep it quiet and kept himself securely closeted

figured it was meant to be a secret – kind of like the secret affair his father was having! or the secret gambling problem his mother was so desperate to hide and blamed on faulty record keeping!

basically, the crux of kit’s childhood is that it sucked and he never felt like he got to be a kid. he was smothered.

kit’s first breaking point came at a young age. he had a childhood friend from church who he had gotten super close to. this friend was very whimsical and sweet – flamboyant some would say but hey! they were children!!! kit was very amazed by this friend’s ability to just BE HIMSELF!

his parents, however, were less amazed and especially as the two grew to be preteens and stayed just as close (maybe even sharing an innocent kiss as friends), they got more and more concerned. so concerned, in fact, that eventually, they insisted kit end the friendship. it was devastating, especially since this friend had been teaching kit so much about self expression and confidence and just :’(

but he listened and buried his anger, saving it for only a few short years later when it would all come to a head.

kit had his first “real” romantic kiss at age 14. the boy was older and cooler and kit knew he couldn’t go back into the closet after that. he brought that boy home a few more times, half hoping to get caught just so he wouldn’t have to come out. eventually things fizzled out but kit had had a taste and now he wanted MORE

more boys made their rounds through the louis residence and it wasn’t until kit was doing a little more than kissing that he was finally caught. it was as bad as he’d expected, the shouting match. what he HADN’T expected, though, was the ultimatum. stop this ‘gay business’ or move out. he was only a teen still? couldn’t they even do that, legally?

luckily – or unluckily as it would be – kit had met someone older who had a place of his own in california and he offered to let kit come and stay with him. they’d start dating and kit would even say this was his first love.

it wasn’t some fairytale though – it never was. showing his love for his new beau became sexual extremely fast and would start including doing favors for his friends and coworkers too. kit let it happen because at least he was free of his parents and living with someone who loved him

he put up with three years of increasingly toxic conditions in his relationship with his boyfriend essentially capitalizing on his willingness to please, not knowing that would soon run out.

if you stifle kit too completely, he breaks and that’s what happened.

one day, he snapped, he took his things and left. he was completely homeless and streetbound but he was living life according to his own choices for once and it came with a kind of thrill that kept kit motivated!

he turned to sex work of his own volition, finding it as a stable way of making money, despite the dangers involved. it was all he felt he was qualified for and he was good at it. without need of any authority over him, he made decent money at it and started skulking around seedy bars in the outer LA area for men who would take him home for a good time

that’s where he met his now-boyfriend, julian. before julian, kit would’ve sworn he’d never find someone, never get a crush, never fall in love. one night and kit was questioning everything. a few more and he was hooked harder than any drug could ever get him.

eventually, though, him and julian did fall in love and they’ve been dating ever since. he stopped his sex work entirely & the drugs julian enjoyed slowly became a part of their time together and that’s still very true today. they’re kind of as dependent on it as they are on each other.

kit knows most things about julian’s past and julian knows most things about kit’s past. they’re kindred spirits, both getting their starts way too young and both finding hardships along the way. kit has never smiled as much, laughed as much or loved as much as he has since finding julian so while jules will swear up and down that he’s ruined kit forever by getting him hooked on all kinds of substances, kit thinks julian’s saved his life

they were following one of kit’s elated impulses and taking a road trip from coast to coast and back again on all the money they had left in this run down little jeep station wagon thing when it broke down in north carolina

they got it up and running enough to make their way up to baltimore but then the jeep gave up completely. they sold it for parts and that + julian’s drug money was enough to pay a deposit on an apartment of their own

so now they’re here!!

they’re living on the bare minimum / mattress on the floor type of struggling but they are in love and that’s what matters right? 

SUMMARY – a rough childhood and an even rougher teendom eventually led to one toxic ex boyfriend and a life on the streets. kit found renewed purpose with his now-boyfriend julian who also happened to turn him into a gleeful little druggie along the way. living with no money but a whole lot of love. okay now

PERSONALITY – enigmatic might be a good way to describe kit. he’s fidgety and easily startled, a very frail little thing. he’s off in his own head a lot of the time and he genuinely has a hard time focusing on things. VERY guarded in that you won’t get a peep out of him and his personal life unless you want to talk about his boyfriend who he’ll wax poetic about for hours if you let him. otherwise, he’s social and chatty but about nothing of substance, flirty but with no intention of following through and impulsive to a fault. he’ll make you think you’re his best friend for the evening but not remember you in the morning. only those super close to him get to see a sweet vulnerable side to kit, the rest see this feigned alluring aura and nothing more

PLOTS

party friends – a MUST

some loose circle of friends in general for him and julian!

a good influence ( gonna be a song connection eventually )

protective friends ( though misguided bc he won’t really listen )

smoking buddies

honestly i think it’d be funny if someone didn’t like him bc he flirted with their boyfriend

and alternatively, the boyfriend he flirted with

someone with an instant crush / love at first sight bond with the very taken kit

someone who can develop into his best friend

aaaaaand people him nd julian kinda corrupt. they’re a chaotic force as a duo so rip

oh ig eventually he’s gonna try to make cash the only way he knows how so thats… a possibility

if YOU have any ideas, lemme know!