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astralkoo · 5 years

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Mr. Slim Thick | Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, fluff, high school au

Warnings: sub!jungkook, dom!reader, language, reader has a major thigh kink oof, thigh riding, bondage, oral & fingering (m. receiving), unprotected sex, probably other stuff that I forget oops

Summary: getting paired up with the kid with the thick thighs from your health class for a project is probably the best thing to happen to you in your high school career.

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N; if you’ve seen this before, its because its from my book Domination from my wattpad account Bangtanbbabies, I’ve decided to post my stories from there onto here as well just for the hell of it, enjoy my lovelies ;)

it was Monday.

and you were fucking tired.

but luckily, it was the last period of the day; health.

as usual, Jimin was talking your ear off about some guy he screwed around with at a party last weekend.

as usual, you hummed and nodded, throwing out mindless 'oh really?'s and 'that's wild's as your mind wandered to somewhere different entirely.

and as usual, your eyes were glued to the door, waiting impatiently for a certain someone to finally grace the room with their presence. and finally, he did.

your body went rigid, jaw slacking, eyes widening as Jeon Jungkook slipped into your health classroom.

his body was adorned by a complimenting pair of ripped skinny jeans that hugged his lower body in all the right places, a loose black t–shirt that was cleanly tucked into his pants, put on a teasing show of the lower part of his toned biceps, and a pair of his infamous timberlands.

"y/n."

you felt yourself falter as you took notice of the thick black belt wrapped around his waist, drawing attention to just how slim it was.

holy fucking hell.

no matter how many times you saw him, you were never able to get over just how fine he was.

when he walked past your desk, you had to remind yourself repeatedly that it would technically be conserved sexual assault if you just reached over and spanked his ass.

...unless he was into that... then you were fucking golden.

but no, you refrained from touching him inappropriately (to your own disappointment) and resorted to just watching him.

you watched as he strode gracefully through the classroom, weaving his way through the desks until he reached that of his best friend, Kim Taehyung.

you watched as he grinned at him, small, pink lips molding around the words of a greeting.

you watched as he pressed his large hands against the top of the desk, leaning his body over it slightly, putting the profile of his curvy backside on full display for your hungry eyes.

"y/n."

your tongue slid over your lips, eyes zeroing in on your personal favorite part of his gorgeous body: his thighs. those babies could crush watermelons. but you'd rather them be wrapped around your head.

"y/n!"

"jesus fuck what do you want?" you hissed, whipping around to face park jimin, your best friend of ten years. "can't you see I'm trying to enjoy the walking porn star?"

"you're drooling, perv," he rolled his eyes, "literally."

you raised your hand to your lips, "am not— oh fuck." you quickly used your sleeve to wipe off your damp chin as Jimin snorted loudly.

"do you know nothing of subtlety?"

"I'm subtle," you scowled at him defensively, hands dropping against your desk with a harsh thud that drew a few eyes in your direction.

"sure, that's the reason why the only person unaware about your little infatuation is Jungkook himself, and that's because straight dudes are stupid oblivious."

you pouted, arms crossing stubbornly over your chest, "I'm not infatuated, just interested."

"yeah, in his body."

"nuh–uh!"

"yuh–uh!"

you swatted at his arm harshly, making him gasp dramatically, before he childishly hit you back. soon enough, it turned into a full blow smack war.

"ms. l/n, mr. park. if you wouldn't mind postponing your flirting until after my class, I'd greatly appreciate it," your teacher smiled sarcastically at the two of you.

you rolled your eyes, about to lean back in your seat, when suddenly Jimin's arms were around you, tugging your body into an awkward position against the arm of your desk as he all but groped you. "but, miss, you don't understand, I just can't keep my hands off of her."

your teacher grimaced, "I implore you to try, mr. park."

Jimin pouted, gripping your chin, staring intensely into your eyes. "but she's just so sexy... I can hardly contain my raging testosterone. you know, miss, a man has his needs." you gasped exaggeratedly as his hand suddenly gripped your butt, squeezing.

"naughty boy~ we were just in the janitor’s closet during lunch," you 'whispered', biting your lip, both for the little show you two were putting on but also to contain the laugh threatening to burst out of you, "do you already need more, daddy?"

he moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut. you slapped your hand over your mouth, head falling against his shoulder as your body shook with silent laughter.

that seemed to be the last straw for your teacher because she looked about ready to burst from the twenty shades of red her face was turning.

but, instead of throwing detentions in your faces (knowing she'd have to spend an extra hour after school with the two of you tormenting her), she brought her fingers to her temples, massaging roughly, muttering to herself several times in a row, "ten more years until retirement. jail time isn't worth it."

"I think we broke her," you cackled, Jimin nodding in agreement.

"alright," she shouted suddenly, slamming her hands down on the top of her desk, "enough time wasted. since I have no interest in so much as attempting to teach you hormonal reprobates, I'm going to give you a project."

Jimin and you side eyed each other hopefully, waiting for her to spit out those last words.

"and you will be working in groups of two or three,"

the class erupted into eager conversation, people turning to their friends and shooting looks across the room. you and Jimin performed your secret hand shake, cheering excitedly. until,

"that will be randomly assigned."

groans of protest and annoyance filled the room. she just rolled her eyes and pulled up a randomizer on her computer, spinning a wheel and waiting for the groups to be assigned. she turned to screen around to face the class, who quickly scrambled out of their seats to see who they'd be working with.

there were a few sighs of disappointment but no adamant protests. once you and Jimin reached the screen, seeing your names paired together, you high–fived, muttering out a, "hell yeah." but your excitement was cut short by your buzzkill of a health teacher, who quickly took notice of your eagerness.

"well that just won't work," she tsked, shaking her head disapprovingly, "for the love of all things holy and pure you two should definitely not be paired together. hold on just a moment."

"miss, you can't be serious, we were just—" you began.

"mr. jeon, please switch with mr. park and be ms. l/n's partner."

"see ya, bitch," you snorted, swiveling on your heels to face a confused looking Jungkook.

he glanced once at his irrelevant partner before shrugging and making his way over to you. you yelped as a sharp pinch was delivered to your arm.

"traitor," Jimin hissed as he stalked away from you. you simply shrugged, smirking to yourself.

for that fine piece of ass, you'd betray your bestie any day.

"hey, Jungkook," you grinned. he smiled lightly nodding in greeting as you both fell into nearby seats.

the entire rest of the class, ms. stickupherass was explaining what the project would consist of, you were completely zoned out. instead of listening, you were intensely focused on staring at the side of Jungkook's stupidly cute face.

your eyes traced the pronounced curve of his nose, fluttering over those little pink lips, following the strikingly sharp line of his jaw. this was the closest you've been to the boy since you accidentally ran into him in the hall, accidentally dropped your stuff, and accidentally let yourself admire his thighs and butt as he picked it all up like the gentleman he was.

so no, you were not about to waste this precious opportunity to listen to your teacher ramble on about some trivial project.

before you knew it, the bell was ringing.

with a disappointed pout, you began packing your belongings away.

"so... where should we work on the project?" his soft, breathy voice took you by surprise, sending shudders of delight down your spine just by the mere sound of it.

"hm?"

"when should we work on this?" he repeated with a soft giggle that had your heart doing all kinds of weird gymnastic tricks, "maybe in the library... we could stay after school if you want to?" he suggested softly

"and spend another hour of my life in this hell hole? no thanks," you scowled, nose scrunching at the suggestion. he nodded meekly in understanding, head lowering. you bit your lip lightly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, "how about you come by my place after school today, and we can get some real work done there."

he seemed oblivious to the double meaning behind your statement. instead, he took on a somewhat worried expression, eyes drifting off somewhere else.

"would your boyfriend be okay with that?"

your face scrunched in confusion, "boyfriend, what boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend. where the hell did you get that idea?"

he blinked at you, visibly bemused, "but, I thought you were with Jimin?"

you nearly choked on your own laughter as it came bursting from you lips, "please, he's about as straight as your ass looks in those jeans."

"what?"

lmao, exposed yourself bitch.

"he's gay, very gay."

"oh."

it was surprisingly easy to convince Jungkook to come to your house, despite his endearing refusals of not wanting to intrude, but you insisted. adamantly.

because intrusion was exactly what you were hoping for.

you even convinced him to let you drive him, seeing as he usually took the bus or got a ride from one of his older friends.

he looked cute as fuck sitting in your passenger seat, fiddling shyly with his fingers as his big eyes gazed out the window.

several times you had to stop your hand from reaching over the console and gripping those thick, luscious thighs. they were just fucking begging to be squeezed, and kissed, and bruised, and rode—

okay. so you might have a bit of an infatuation.

you knew it would be about fifteen million times harder to control the urge to grab him and fuck him in every position known to man once you actually had him in your house. especially with your parents at work...

it'd just be you, him, and the demon sitting on your shoulder with a massive thigh kink.

"welcome to mi casa," you sang, throwing yourself down on your living room couch, smiling cheekily up at a visibly uncertain Jungkook, "make yourself at home, babe."

you watched in amusement as his cheeks tinted a soft pink color as the nickname slid off your lips in a flirtatious purr. he faltered briefly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his cheeks filled with air, eyes flickering noncommittally around the room.

"Come on, I don't bite," you grinned, patting the seat beside you, adding under your breath, "too hard."

he lowered himself onto the couch, and you pouted at the unreasonable (it was reasonable) amount of distance he put between you two, but decided to let it be. he pulled materials out of his backpack, setting them up on the table in front of you.

"do you think you can explain what exactly we're supposed to be doing, because I may or may not have completely zoned out while she was talking," you admitted.

he chuckled softly, "well, she said were supposed to make a poster showing or explaining the positive and the negative of engaging in sexual intercourse as teenagers, and it's supposed to show us how like, sex isn't worth the risk at a young age."

haha. yeah, okay.

"so, the pros and cons of fucking?" you reiterated, brows raising. his cheeks tinted a shade of pink at your blunt wording and he nodded slowly.

"y–yeah, I guess you could say it like that."

a wicked smirk twisted onto your face. wonderfully sinful ideas began to swirl to life in your mind. you were beginning to appreciate ms. stickupherass more and more every second.

until you actually started to do the project.

"one pro? really? that's all you can think of?" you scoffed in disbelief, staring at the t–chart he had compiled. the long list of negatives far outdid the single positive he had come up with.

"there is only one positive to sex: momentary pleasure. other than that there is literally nothing to gain besides std's and regret." he muttered, matter–of–fact.

"have you ever even had sex before?"

his deeply blushing face and skittering eyes were all the answer you needed.

"you've never had sex before? are you crazy? then how the fuck can you sit here talking shit about it? that's like when people say pineapple pizza sucks before they've even tried it! It (insert opinion on pineapple pizza bc I'm not tryna start any wars ya feel), but I can say that because I've actually tried it before!"

"I know about all the risks and consequences that come with sex! it just doesn't seem worth it."

"but you're only exposing yourself to the negative. you gotta give yourself a chance to experience life and all its messy, beautiful qualities. you can't just make your mind about something you've never experienced before," you countered quickly, "sex can be... life changing."

"yeah, especially when you end up with a new addition nine months later."

"ever heard of protected sex, jackass?"

"no amount of protection is full proof."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook. you will not hit Jeon Jungkook.

of course the first guy you've ever met to not want to have sex is the kid you've been obsessing over since the first day of high school. how fucked up is that.

"listen, Jungkook," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "sex is a whole lot more than you're giving it credit for."

"I know what—"

"hear me put, okay?" you interrupted quickly, giving him a pointed glare. he sealed his lips, nodding obediently. you continued, "sex isn't always just about pleasure. it's about intimacy, connection, trust, love. it's about forming a deeper relationships with someone. why do you think some people wait until after marriage? it's about putting faith in someone, and showing them trust."

he watched you intently as you spoke, lips faintly parted, eyes wide. every word that passed from your lips, he listened to devotedly.

"that's not to say sex can't be dirty or heartbreaking or wrong. believe me, I know it can be anything but good. but, I've also seen how amazing it can be. if you do it right, with the right person, in the right place... shit, it can be—"

"life changing?" he finished for you, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

you chuckled, nodding. "exactly. and I'm not saying you should go out and fuck everything with a pulse. I'm just saying, sex isn't always this horrible, disgusting thing that you think it is. if it was, I doubt so many people would be having it."

all at once, his mouth was on yours. your eyes widened, body going rigid. well, you weren't expecting that.

just as quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away. he looked horrified, mouth gaping, eyes practically popping out of their sockets. it seemed he was just as caught off guard as you were.

the kiss couldn't have lasted for more than three seconds. but in those quick seconds, you had gotten a taste of him.

and you wanted more.

he began to spit it a flustered mess of an apology, "holy shit, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I—"

"shut up," you growled, grabbing him by the back of the neck and drawing his lips back onto your own.

he emitted a sound of surprise, but didn't make a move to pull away. even so, his lips were puckered and stiff. it was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. chuckling, you leaned away just enough that your lips weren't touching.

"relax, Jungkook," you murmured, pecking his lips lightly.

"I'm sorry," he managed to choke out, face turning beat red for the umpteenth time that day, "I've just never... done this before."

"you've never kissed anyone before?" he shook his head weakly, features burning with embarrassment at his admission. you smiled, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek, "that's alright... I'll teach you."

"o–okay," he whimpered, dark eyes focusing in on your lips.

seeing the need that sparkled faintly within them, you decided not to make him wait any longer. you pressed your lips gently to his, moving slowly, but with purpose. his motions gradually grew from stiff and uncertain to relaxed and fluid. you let out a sound of approval, one of your hands sneaking down to squeeze his thigh.

god damn.

he gasped in your mouth, and you dipped your tongue skillfully between his lips. a loud moan escaped his chest, the sound sending chills down your spine. you couldn't help but to wonder what he would sound like moaning your name, begging for more...

that thought alone was enough to have you tugging him closer to you, pulling his leg over your lap until he was straddling your thighs. your hands wandered to his waist, thumbs rubbing small circles. he shuddered faintly, giggling into your mouth as you hit a ticklish spot.

"god, you're so cute," you chuckled, kissing over his jaw as his head tilted back, offering you more access. he mewled as you hit a weak place.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he gasped, hands jumping up to grip your shoulders tightly.

"don't think too much, just enjoy," you purred, nipping at his collarbone playfully, "and follow my lead." the grip you had on his waist slipped down to his narrow hips, guiding them in slow grinding motions.

"o–oh," he swallowed, jaw slacking as his eyes dropped between you, watching himself grind against you. it didn't take long for a prominent bulge to form in his tight jeans, the restriction making him squirm. he let out a strangled whine, "y/n... it hurts."

you smirked, "why don't you strip for me, baby?"

his cheeks ignited in a hot crimson blush. "s–strip?" you hummed, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out from the loops, dropping it onto the floor. that may be useful later.

he nodded, "okay." you grinned, excitement boiling up inside of you, leaning back as Jungkook stood up before you. he bit his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shyly as he gripped the bottom of his black t–shirt.

"d–don't laugh."

your eyes widened, brows raising. "I would never laugh at you, I promise," there was steadfast certainty in your voice, your hand rubbing soothingly down the back of his leg, "it's okay if you don't want to do this—"

"no! no, I want to," he cut you off quickly, and you couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over you.

"okay," you leaned back, "then take it off."

with an adorable look of determination, he began to strip; starting with his shirt. you had to bite your lip near the point of blood when he slowly peeled the fabric off of his body to keep from crying out 'glory, glory, hallelujah!'. hot was an understatement.

muscular shoulders that melted into sculpted biceps. a bulky chest that screamed push up fiend and formed into a set of six tight, toned abs.

"Jesus," your mouth watered.

you couldn't stop your hand from reaching out and caressing down his body, watching as his stomach flexed under your touch.

"work out much?" you smirked up at him.

he chuckled, shrugging faintly, "it’s a hobby of mine."

yeah, it fucking shows.

once again, your eyes slid down to see his erection still standing proud, straining hopelessly. you licked your lips lustfully. seeing what was above the belt, only made you want to see what was below it a hundred times worse.

"fuck, take your pants off," you impatience was beginning to show as your hands found the zipper of his jeans. but he suddenly grabbed your wrists. you looked up at him, concerned you'd gone too fast for his liking.

but his dark, desire filled eyes and the playful smirk on his lips told you otherwise. "please... let me," he murmured, you nodded in a slight daze from the look he was giving you. releasing your wrists, he slowly pushed his jeans over his hips, letting them slip teasingly down his thick thighs, before they finally pooled at his ankles, where he had earlier kicked off his timbers.

you groaned softly, nearly melting at the sight of his bare legs in front of you. shaved, they were fucking shaved. you could see the taunt muscles bulging underneath his soft skin. and holy fuck his thighs, his thighs, his fucking thighs. tan and big and bite–able.

shit, they were even hotter than you imagined.

"you... you can touch me... if you want..."

his soft, bashful voice broke you from the trance you'd put yourself in, and you quickly snapped your stare away from his thickness and up to his face. he looked shy again, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, cheeks rounded, raised, and tinted by a subtle pink, eyes big and shiny in the most endearing way imaginable.

how the holy fuck were you supposed to say no to that.

in less than a second your hands were back on his thighs, rubbing, squeezing, savoring. his skin was warm and tight under your greedy hands, tensing every time your fingers grazed a particularly sensitive area.

just touching suddenly wasn't enough. leaning forward, you grazed your lips over the hem of his tight boxers, biting gently at the flesh just below it. he trembled, moaning softly as you placed a flurry of kisses and light sucks on his legs.

thigh kink? confirmed.

you were so close, you could see his erection growing by the second. and shit was that a turn on. with a twinge of reluctance, you detached your mouth from his thighs, peering up at his slack jawed face with a smirk.

"you look good in black, Jeon," you teased, lightly tracing your index finger over his boner.

"please, y/n," he moaned, his knees beginning to grow weak underneath him. as much as you would have loved to have kept teasing the hell out of him, there were far more important matters to take into consideration.

pulling away from him, you shifted over to make room for his large body on the couch. "down," you demanded.

he all but launched himself onto the couch, before staring at you like an obedient puppy awaiting his next command. you were already power hungry enough as is, and now he was looking at you like that? the fuck was he trying to do to you?

he yelped in surprise as you planted your hands on his shoulders, shoving him back. he fell, head landing near the arm rest, torso propped up on his elbows, legs parted, one foot resting on the floor. he looked like a work of art laid out like that. you could just devour him.

you crawled on top of him, trapping his head between your hands. "do you know how long I've wanted you, Jungkook?" you muttered, brushing your nose over his. he shook his head, breathing heavily as you positioned one of your knees against his crotch. "do you know how long I've wanted to have your gorgeous body underneath mine? too fucking long."

he moaned out as you pressed into him, at the same time capturing his mouth in yours in a wet, sloppy, hungry kiss that had his mind reeling. his large hands gripped your jaw, one of his legs hooked over your hip, keeping you close to him. he loved feeling you.

"do you know how much of a tease you are?" you growled against his mouth, biting his bottom lip. "shit, you have to know. walking around in those tight jeans, showing off that tight little ass. you love it, don't you? having everyone's eyes all over you."

he was panting as his hips began to slowly grind against your leg, desperate for friction. "I– I never realized—"

you cut him off with a hand around his throat, tsking softly, "don't lie to me, baby. liars get punished." shit, y/n don't get too kinky on him, it's still his first time, you silently reminded yourself. but he seemed to enjoy it enough, because his grinding became rougher and faster, to the point where he was essentially dry humping your leg.

"f–fuck, punish me," he moaned out, clenching and unclenching his fists in your hair. you choked.

he was asking for it. literally asking for it. if it was any other guy, you would have already jumped his bones.

but this was Jeon Jungkook, your not so secret obsession since the beginning of high school. he was underneath you, horny, hard, and asking you to punish him. and yet, you still weren't sure.

on one hand; you wanted to fuck his shit up. you wanted to feel him writhing, hear him crying out, see him sweating. you wanted to wreck that boy. fuck him into oblivion, until he was seeing stars.

but on the other hand; he was still a virgin. he had no experience whatsoever, and had only just had his first kiss that day, with you. you didn't want to hurt him–hurt him his first time. you didn't know if he could take it.

Jungkook must have seen the conflicted expression on your face, because he made a soft noise to bring your attention back to him.

"please–," he whimpered, spreading his thighs with a needy moan, "please, be rough with me."

w—

was your life a joke to him?

"shit, Jeon," you huffed out a strained chuckle, "you're really fucking me up here."

he whimpered again, looking up at you pleadingly. "I can handle it, I promise. I want more. I want you."

was this the same guy that said the only things you can gain from sex are std's and regret?

it wasn't hard for him to shatter any tiny amount of resistance you offered with a single look. you nodded faintly, smiling as his face lit up. "don't be afraid to tell me to stop, okay? I don't want to get too carried away."

he hummed, head bobbing in acknowledgment.

"words, baby," you scolded.

"yes, I promise," he breathed, eyes honing in on your lips, "can you kiss me again?"

as much as you wanted to tell him this was serious, you still couldn't bring yourself to say no. you kissed him again, slowly this time. you chuckled at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips. "impatient thing, aren't you?"

he opened his mouth to respond, but could only manage a gasp as you began to trail your mouth down his body, until you were face to crotch with his throbbing arousal. you looked up at him with a cocked brow. "want them off?"

you had barely finished the question before he was rapidly nodding his head, biting his lip as he hummed desperately. chuckling at his eagerness, you slid your fingers under the waistband on his black Calvin Klein's, and tugged them down.

his erection swung out of it's confines like a god damn baseball bat, slapping against his stomach hard enough to make him flinch slightly. you don't remember ever seeing a guy that hard before. and you'd barely even touched him.

"impressive, baby," you purred, soothing your hands over the inside of his thighs. pressing a slow kiss to his hipbone, you murmured, "you're already so hard for me... it makes me wonder..."

your fingers glided closer and closer to where you knew he wanted you most, but never touching him. frustration blossomed on his face in the attractive shade of crimson.

"if I could make you come without even touching you."

he cried out, desperately shaking his head, "no, no please– I can't. please touch me. I need you, plea—" he cut himself off with a thunderous moan as your hand wrapped around his dick and began pumping quickly.

you smiled cheekily up at him, "since you said please."

he was already slick with his own pre cum, hot and throbbing in your palm. spluttering moans escaped his lips as his body tried to process the pleasure of your smooth, rapid strokes. little need be said that it was a lot for his virgin cock to handle in that moment.

his head jerked up when you suddenly pulled away, staring down at you with furrowed brows and hopeless eyes.

"you wanted me to kiss you, right?" it was more of a rhetorical question, and you didn't really give him the chance to reply anyways before your mouth was on his dick.

Jungkook cried loudly, throwing his head back as you french kissed his tip.

"f–fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he whined between harsh onslaughts of gasps and moans, tightly grabbing the armrest above his head. you hummed in admiration as his chest broadened and his skin tightened with the stretch, putting his taut pectorals on full display.

every flick and twirl of your tongue sent tendrils of pleasure shooting through his body in hot, wet, glorious waves. his back arched off of the couch cushion every time you sucked, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening.

you watched, ego practically bursting out of your head at how responsive he was. every thrust of his torso, every tremble of his legs, every gorgeous sound that thrust itself from his lips went straight to your core. he was undeniably intoxicating.

he suddenly threw his legs over your shoulders, ankles locking on the small of your back. you moaned around him as you realized the position he'd just put himself in. your hands crawled up his flexing thighs, gripping them tightly.

talk about a dream come true. literally.

you applied some vigor to your motions, bobbing your head eagerly and twisting your tongue around him. you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth, the fluid leaning from his swollen cock lathering your tongue. that combined with the sounds he was making, beautiful, high whines, signaled that he was close. but you weren't done yet.

all at once, you pulled away, panting slightly but smirking nonetheless.

"w–why did you... s–stop?" he gasped, brows furrowing as he looked down at you desperately.

"because I want to show you another trick I learned during one of my rendezvous," you purred, kissing down his thighs to soothe the orgasm you prevented him from experiencing, "if you're up for it?"

"if it feels anything like that, I'm down," he was quick to agree, pulling his legs off of you as you sat up.

"I'm happy to hear that..." your eyes wandered below his dick, and your eyes glistened with excitement. before he could put two and two together, your fingers were tracing his lips. "do you mind sucking?" you asked. he shook his head, and you chuckled at his big doe eyes, sending you silent pleas, "then suck, baby."

he obediently took your fingers into his mouth, small lips delicately wrapping around them. you hummed in appreciation, loving the way he looked with your fingers in his mouth.

"that's right baby, use your tongue, make them wet," you groaned, pushing them deeper. he silently complied, tongue shyly swirling around them, cheeks going concave and he sucked gently. all the while, his eyes, wide and glistening, looked into yours, hungry for approval.

Jesus Christ, have mercy.

"you'll make me come in my pants if you keep this up," you joked, biting at the inside of your cheek. that statement only seemed to add fuel to the fire, because before you could process what he was doing, he had you fingers knuckle deep in his mouth, sucking them like his life depended on it. now, it was your turn to go slack jawed.

when it got to the point where you could feel the arousal beginning to drip between your thighs, you drew your fingers from his mouth. you shuddered with glee at the sight of a string of his spit connecting the tip of your finger to his lips. hot. hot, really fucking hot.

"damn, baby. you're good with your mouth," you chuckled breathlessly, trying to ignore the sexy way his brows rose in suggestive arches at your statement.

"I can be even better if you give me something hot and wet to eat."

well fuck you too, Jeon. now my ovaries have exploded, thanks a whole fuckin' lot you little tongue slut.

"maybe if you behave yourself, yeah?" you all but growled, feeling the heat in your body increase tenfold. and then he had the nerve to smirk at you. as if you weren't turned on enough. now you had to show him who the fuck was in charge here. "you're asking for it, Jeon."

he chuckled shortly, biting his lip. "then give it to me."

welp. there goes taking it easy his first time.

in seconds, you had his hands pinned above his head and the belt you had discarded earlier wrapped tightly around his wrists. he groaned at the feeling of the taut leather pulling at his delicate skin, loving the sensation of being restrained more than he thought he would.

"such a spoiled little brat, aren't you?" you snarled, grabbing one of his legs and forcing it up over your shoulder, holding the other against his chest. he bit his lip, eagerly nodding in agreement. "making demands like that. shit, you want it so bad? then have it, baby."

he cried out as the tips of your wet fingers slowly penetrated his virgin hole. hot, salty tears pooled in his eyes at the foreign stretch. you placed soothing kisses down his neck, murmuring sweet, encouraging words against his skin.

"tell me to stop if it's too much," you uttered, feeling his body trembling and tensing beneath you.

he quickly shook his head at that, "I'm okay– I'm okay... keep going... please keep going."

you praised him quietly, continuing to ease your fingers into him. his back arched deeply, forcing your chest together so firmly not even a piece of paper could slip between you. his head rolled to the side, panting lips pressing to his bicep, prominent bunny teeth biting into the flesh as his brows scrunched.

beautiful didn't begin to describe him.

"you're taking my fingers so well, baby," you cooed, thrusting your fingers shallowly, slowly in and out of him at a consistent pace, allowing his body to adjust properly. you could tell he was still in some pain, but it was quickly melting from his feature, being replaced by something entirely different.

"y/n," he drawled out a low moan, hips steadily beginning to roll in time with your fingers.

oh, you knew what that meant.

"you want more?"

he nodded quickly, whining for emphasis. you only grinned and continued your now painfully slow motions. he groaned in frustration when he tried to grind his hips down, only for you to grab them and pin them down. this was becoming torturous. this shallow pleasure and weak stretches weren't enough to get him anywhere. you know that. and now so did he.

face blossoming in a deep red, he weakly squirmed against his restraints in order to lift his head. "y/n, I can handle it, please! I need— shit," he squeaked loudly, eyes popping open almost comically when your fingers suddenly pushed deeply into him. his entire body jolted and you felt him clench around you.

"relax. you said you could handle it right?" he could only nod, words evading him as you pulled out, only to plunge right back in. the motion sent his head into a fuzzy state of euphoria that he'd never had the pleasure of encountering before.

it wasn't long before you were pumping into him at an arm numbing pace. your bicep and wrist ached, but you really couldn't care less. not with how utterly, stupefyingly gorgeous he looked.

hands bound above his head, which was thrown back as his strained throat shot out whorish moans. sweat making his rippling skin shimmer like an ocean at sunset. every muscle in his upper body was flexed and on full display for your greedy eyes, bulging and trembling.

"you look like you're about to just burst, Jeon," you teased, biting your lip at the sound of your palm connecting with his toned backside with sharp smacks.

wet? nah bitch you were drenched.

"w–wa... wait–wai... wait!" he gasped and moaned as your skilled fingers brought him closer and closer to the edge. you immediately still, quickly drawing your hand away from him.

"did I hurt you?" you asked, concern shining in your eyes.

"no, no it felt good. really good, fuck. I just..." you furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for him to continue, "I don't want to come from your hand."

your brows raised, "oh?"

"I want you to fuck me."

oh.

a massive smirk split your cheeks. "don't have to tell me twice," you swooped down, kissing him fiercely. you moved the undo his binds, letting the belt hit the floor with a soft thud. with his freed hands, he reached down and helped you tug off your pants. you were both far too eager even bother taking off your underwear. you moaned softly as his slender fingers pushed the fabric to the side, grazing your wet lips.

he gasped, looking up at you with wide eyes. "you're so wet."

chuckling, you ground against his lingering fingers, moaning soft at the sparks of pleasure that followed. "mm, all because of you, baby." he blushed deeply, biting his lip to contain a wide smile. he hadn't realized he was affecting you just as much as you were affecting him.

he took you off guard as he slid his fingers against you, lightly pressing against your core, applying pressure to your sensitive clit. you jerked, legs quivering beneath the weight of your body. "easy, I'm not trying to come before I even get to feel you inside of me. I've waited too long for this."

in one swift motion, you sunk down on his erect cock. you gasped as he moaned in shock, both of you taken off guard by just how good it felt. you hadn't expected that much of a stretch, his dick filling you flawlessly. he hadn't expected you to be that tight, squeezing and clenching around him. he thought he was overwhelmed before, but this was an entirely different ball game. hehe, literally.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Jungkook choked, hands searching hopelessly for something to grab onto but unable to decide what he wanted to hold onto.

you chuckled breathlessly between soft moans, rolling your hips in slow figure eights. "God's got nothing to do with this, baby." You gripped at his muscular shoulders for support as you rode his dick.

truth is, he felt a thousand times better than you thought he would. he wasn't massive, but he was the perfect size for you, just thick enough to stretch you out without causing any real pain and long enough to reach that perfect, sensitive little spot inside of you with ease.

"fuck you feel so good," you groaned, throwing you head back as you sped up your pace, bouncing with renewed stamina.

Jungkook keened, feeling already himself teetering on that edge. but he didn't want to finish, he didn't want it to end. the feelings, the sensations you were giving him were unlike anything he'd ever faced before.

"y/n— I think I might–" he began to warn you, but his words got lost in gasping moans and hopeless whines. you got the message though, especially at the feeling of him throbbing and twitching inside of you.

"then I'm going to need you to touch me, baby," you guided his wrist to your aching pussy, moaning loudly when his fingers made contact with your swollen clit, "f–fuck right the–there."

he whimpered, wanting to please you just as much as you were pleasing him. "how?" he asked desperately, hips reflexively jumping as you clenched around him.

with your hand laid over top of his, you were able to lead his long middle finger in drawing small circles, until he was doing it all on his own. "oh shit, yeah– yeah, just like that... just like that." he couldn't hide the smile that grew at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your mouth gaping in silent moans as his touches worked you closer and closer to your undoing.

but you wiped that smile off his face when your hands landed back on his chest, brushing his nipples and making his back arch upwards. you tested it again, this time with gentle pinches that had him crying out in euphoria, bucking into you hard.

"oh? you like that? you like getting your nipples played with? how cute." you managed, tweaking his hardened buds with a sadistic smirk. he sobbed, tears of pleasure rushing from his eyes. it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back. but he refused to come before you.

forcing his mind out of the euphoric haze, he put his hands and hips to work, drilling into you with every ounce of strength he had.

he managed to hit your sweet spot with every powerful thrust. and before you knew it, you were coming faster than you'd ever come before, vision filling with blinding stars, body going rigid above his and trembling uncontrollably. your walls constructed around him as you came with the most mind numbing orgasm you'd ever experienced, and that was just enough encouragement to have him exploding inside of you with a loud cry.

"fuck– fuck, y/n, fuck," he moaned, riding out his high with hard, sloppy thrust. you could only manage a weak whimper from oversensitivity, slumping on top of him, completely and utterly spent.

you laid them for at least five minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath and collect the wits that had just seemed to implode.

unexpectedly, you let out a bellowing laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as his lazily looped around your back. "shit, Jeon. didn't know you had it in you," you giggled airily, kissing his shoulders in a surprisingly tender gesture.

he smiled, giggling along with you. "you brought it out of me."

"oh, I'm flattered, gorgeous," you cooed playfully, plastering kisses across his cheeks. he lightly swatted you away, squirming as you tickled at his sides.

with a soft sigh, you pushed yourself off of him. he watched in confusion as you grabbed his clothes off the floor, handing them to him. you chuckled when you saw the worried look on his face, leaning down to press a reassuring kiss to his lips. "as much as I enjoy cuddling after a good fuck, you should probably ditch before my parents get home. they’re not always so welcoming to strangers."

his shoulders relaxed, realizing you weren't just going to kick him to the curb after giving him the best afternoon of his life.

"understandable," he swiftly tugged on his shirt, followed by his pants and messily stuffed book bag. he turned back to you with a hopeful glimmer in his dark eyes, and a shy blush coating his cheeks. it was amazing that he was still so bashful after having just fucked your brains out.

"you'll... you'll text me... right?"

you laughed softly, cupping his jaw and drawing him into one last kiss. "how could I not?"

he grinned giddily, pecking your lips in his excitement. "okay! okay, good!" He coughed quickly, trying to cap his happiness, "I mean— cool, cool. very cool. I'll see you tomorrow. have a good— uh, night!"

you shook your head with a soft smile as he darted out the front door, closing it gently behind him.

"I might just have to keep you around, Jeon."

#jungkook #sub!jungkook #sub!bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts reactions #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook imagine

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aesthbaby · 4 years

Text

Ghost

Summary: Do you remember the episode Demonology where we learned of Emily’s past? What if I told you, you were apart of it. After years of silence on her end, you end up meeting her again.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Prompt: here

Warnings: Cursing | Sadness | Typos

Word Count:

Masterlist

An: Dedicated to my hundredth follower. Ahhhh I'm too hype about this! I also made a slight change to the prompt but everything else is the same :) Anon, I hope you enjoy.

Indignation

The screaming crawls up the walls of her oversized, child hood home to shake her ear drums. The thunder only adds fuel to the fire that is the rage possessed by both Prentiss’ as they continue their screaming match.

“Don’t you dare walk away when I’m talking to you!” Elizabeth’s voice matches the rain. The way she stomps behind her daughter looks almost comical.

“Back off mother.” She mumbles this more to herself than her mother.

She stops walking, planting her feet firmly on the Brazilian Chestnut flooring. “I will not ask you again.” She comes to a stop, takes a breath, and slowly turns to her mother. Not meeting her eyes, of course, because it’d hurt too much to see the hate in her eyes. “Look at me.” The mother growls. She slowly moves to meet her mothers eyes and finds nothing but rage there; energy matched to the thunder and rain outside. “You will not see that-” The derogatory term gets caught up in her throat.

Taking a step towards the elder, “What?” Daring to ask the question to which she already knows the answer. “What do you want to say mother?” Her jaw tightens, a sign that Emily knows all too well. “Spit it out.” Its taking everything in her not to raise her voice again and spew the word out for her mother.

Elizabeth takes a breath of her own before replying. “You are not to see that girl again or so help me, I will make sure she goes back to where she came from.” Before Emily could object, she speaks again. “That is final Emily.” Her voice holds strong, and suddenly the storm ceases its assault.

All is quiet in the Prentiss house yet the tension remains; so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Disregard

The next morning you arrive to school earlier than usual, but for good reason. Some random college hoodie wrapped loosely around your torso and a dainty neck tucked under it. Your school uniform has never fit you quite right because of how late in the year you transferred, you know...left overs. Phone is going absolutely crazy in your shirt pocket but now isn't the time, you’re looking for somebody. You’re looking for her. Mr. Ricci’s voice can be heard on your left, telling a group of guys its time for class. Emily...where the hell are you?

As the day progresses you still see no sign of the brunette until now. “Emily!” Running up to her you deliver a swift punch to her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?” When her eyes meet yours they puffy, like she’s been crying. “Em- I-”

“First of all, ouch. Secondly, I can’t right now.” She turns to walk off with her lunch in hand, but you quickly pull her back by her elbow.

“You ‘can’t’ right now? What the hell is wrong with you?” Its taking everything in you not to become overtly emotional. “And where have you been?”

“Y/n I’m sorry but I really can’t right now.” She pulls away from your grip. Leaving you more confused than before.

You scuff at her wording. “You never calls me by my first name...” Its always been her thing, starting with a joke about how she has another friend by the same name as you so she had to call you something else. The next day was the same, avoiding you at all costs.

But it didn’t stop there.

It felt as though you were left on a physical manifestation of ‘read.’ Her name with the red heart emoji attached, did not pop up on your phone for what seemed to be months but in reality it had only been a few weeks. If she were to simply pick up the phone you would have been able to tell her about your unforeseen departure time. Due to sudden changes in international studies, you had to leave and the academy needed their student back. The one of which you exchange places with in January. Tears spring to your eyes at the thought of leaving. Not only are you leaving her, but also leaving this city you got to call home.

Sunny days always seem to appear at the wrong time, your departure day. She’s not here to see you off, hasn’t been around for a while. Can you really blame her? She doesn’t even know you’re leaving because she wont pick up the fucking phone. It doesn’t matter anymore, your time is up and so is her’s. A line of black and white kittens sprint across the cobblestone streets and that right there is what makes you break down in tears. Seeing the delicate kittens run after a mouse while tripping over their own feet. Random yellow flowers peaking through the stone which you’ve never known the actual name of. That one girl in Chem that would bake cookies for the class on Fridays. Your host dad taking you to his favorite café that served an increasing number of Cuban smokers. Going to eat gelato after homeroom with that one guy who would always make Golden Girls references. Then there was Emily, the girl that gave you a dainty gold necklace for valentines day. The girl that got a random jock to stop harassing you. The person whose lap you’d lay in on Saturday mornings at the park, is the same person who randomly started to ignore you. Maybe you could have fixed things with her if you had more time. You were supposed to have until June but suddenly everything shifted and all you were told is that you needed to come home, promptly. You couldn’t wait for her any longer, not even sure why you thought she’d come in the first place. Casting one last glance over your shoulder before stepping into the buzzing airport.

At least meet me half way.

Hereafter

"I don’t think so.” You laugh at your friend’s proposition to set you up on a blind date. “I am absolutely content with the way I choose to live my life.” Shifting a bit on the new couch that hasn’t been broken in, resulting in the stiff cushions.

He lets out this weird scuffing noise. “No you’re not. Remember last weekend when we tried to pull an all-nighter but your sleep deprived brain betrayed you?” At your nonchalant shrug, he continues. “You started rambling about just wanting to find some well educated, fun loving, female in this world full of bureaucratic straight men. Your words, not mine.” You throw a pillow at him but he swiftly doges it. “But you couldn’t have said it better.” These recent years have been a series of unfortunate dates that have ended in you lying about having to leave early for something.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend you should be getting home to?”

“Not tonight, I’m all yours. Apparently she has her knitting circle tonight.”

“That's what you get for dating an older woman.”

“Its a five year age difference! What is wrong with you people?”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Nothing, as long as you’re both legal and she’s good to you, its fine by me.”

“Shut up!” He screeches. “Oh shit, don’t you have a meeting in the morning?”

“Yes sir.” He stands to take your glasses and plates in the kitchen but you object. “Leave it,” At his confused expression, you continue. “Cleaning helps me relax so I figured I’ll wake up early so I can do that and reduce my stress levels by at least ten percent.”

“Dude, you’re seriously weird.”

“Say another bad thing about me and I'm sending you home.”

Throwing him a few pillows from the hallway closet and a comforter just for him to scream, “Its too hot in this cottage core apartment!”

Its not even cottage core themed?? Its just cozy with a plant or two. Am I expected to live in an ice cold home? I feel like he’s just saying this because I’m gay.

Your prepared outfit hands on the back of your bedroom door, mocking you. Making you reconsider the entire thing and simply not go but it feels as though you’d regret it if you didn’t. Maybe not, who knows?

And with that as your final though, you drift off to sleep.

You wake at the amazing time of 6 A.M to see your guest gone with a note on the couch:

I cleaned up the mess from last night and I also did the dishes in your sink. Not sure how u slept through all of that...I made a fruit salad for ur breakfast and a normal one for lunch.

Good luck with your meeting!

And one of those old fashioned emoticons at the bottom corner. Idiot.

You eat the food he left from the fridge, brush your teeth with the news playing in the background, and continue on with the normal morning routine.

Gathering your lunch and the little items you feel like you’d need, phone, charger, paper work, and keys; you know, the works. Finally heading out to your destination with nothing but ambition, you run into a slight problem.

Overlapping breakfast with an old friend of yours. “Hey, babe, I am so sorr-”

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The positive voice rings through the phone like velvet sheets after a cold shower. “You missed our reservation!” Have to admit hearing them whine is pretty entertaining. “You had one job. One!” You guys met some years ago over some random online forum, arguing over some random movie. You don’t talk as much as you’d like but breakfast is always on the menu--mostly in February.

“Quick question, am I allowed to apologize?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, “Yes you may, but only in fruit baskets and coffee.”

“I got you, next time though. I’m on my way to something right now.”

“Something...” In comes the teasing undertone. “Does this ‘something’ have a name?”

Bursting into a fit of laughter at what is implied and replying, “Definitely not, its a work thing.”

“Speaking of work, I have to go. Ciao!”

Just in time to end the call, you pull into the designated parking deck from the email. Going through all of the security procedures was hell but blatantly necessary; the rest was gravy. Floating through the rest of the building gave you a slightly stressful feel because of all the men walking around with perfect suits and casting no glances your direction. When the glass doors labeled BAU appear, you take a deep breath and walk in with confidence. Taking in the buzzing sound of agents at work all around you. Agent Hotcher’s office is glaringly obvious: higher up than the rest, perfect overview of the hive, and in direct eye sight of the entryway doors.

Delivering a swift knock to the office door you hear a faint invitation from the inside. Walking in with a smile and straight back you are greeted with a man in a dark navy blue suit and a stoic look to attached to him. It first starts with the small talk of your experience, early life, skill sets, and what not.

“Agent Hotchner, might I speak out of line for a moment.” He gives you a skeptical look before nodding. “I understand the nature of this meeting but I am not completely sure why it was conducted.” His furrowed brown is not a good sign, making you correct your structure a bit. “Right, well,” God his stare is fucking intense. “What I mean to ask is, why am I here?”

That was bold.

“Agent, are you not aware that this is a Career Analysis Assessment?” As it slowly sinks in an O-shape forms with your mouth. Now you feel like a complete idiot in front of this prestigious, tight suited, man. “You were unaware? Its fine if you were,” You let out a sigh at the confirmation. “I have a tendency to write my emails with an excessive amount of four syllable words so one could see where the confusion originated.” You let out a nervous laugh at the realization that this is basically a job interview.

“I see that you’ve spent time studying abroad.” Indicated by the recommendations from your Italian Psychology teacher. “Why not join the CIA?”

“Dare I say, they make me nervous?” He cracks a small, very subtle, smile at the admission.

“What made you want to leave Human Resources?”

“I got tired of analyzing decisions with nothing but dead bodies and messy crimes and having my primal focus be the agents and not the victims or perpetrators. Using what I’ve learned as material for agents in training when I could have prevented it from happening.”

“Well said, but I need to be completely transparent with you.” This can’t be good. “I will admit that I have serious reservations about adding a Human Resources officer to my team.”

Shit let me stop him before this spirals. He thinks I’m a spy. “Sir, with all do respect, I have no intentions of being a bureaucratic spy. I’d also like to point out that I wasn’t that high on the HR totem pole to the point where I had an explicit say on what happens to agents, who is hire, fired, or how they’re trained. I analyzed and compromised while expressing my findings to an unbiased extent. If I wanted to be a spy I would have joined the CIA.” Besides, Head Quarter’s is the one that does all of that internal investigation stuff, not HR.

He doesn’t say anything or make any sudden movements for a good minute. I fucked up. That spy line was too far. “I’d like to offer you a position on this team, so long as you can start immediately.”

“Yes, of course I can! I don’t have much office supplies besides a pen or two and-”

“Its fine,” He stands from his seat and straightens the dark blazer. “I’ll have one of my agents show you around.”

From across the bullpen you spot a familiar blonde. “Oh my god!” The file in her hand falls to the floor. “Its you!” She practically squeals.

“Penelope, I didn’t know you work here.” You give your old friend a tight, unapologetic hug. She said she worked as a tech analysis but you always assumed it was for an activism group or a tech firm, not the FBI out of all things. Despite having such interesting jobs, you never talk about work with each other. She knows you work for the government but not which. Although knowing how good she is at uncovering people’s secrets, there’s a good chance she already knew you work for the FBI too.

“What are you doing here? Like physically here. I thought you were in Florida.”

“I have to get back, can you take care of Agent Y/L/N for me?” Hotchner says before rushing off without an answer.

And there she goes with the snooping. “Actually, I left the Florida office and went to California.”

“Oh.” Her face twists a bit. “And now you’re here?”

“I thought you were the woman behind the curtains, the all knowing.”

“And wonderful!” She points with her perfectly painted finger.

In comes a slim man with a messenger back, making a click in your mind. “Now where have I seen him before...” Turning slightly to follow his trail.

“That’s our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Unbelievable. “He’s twelve.” The young agent’s head snaps toward you and Penelope, “Does he have super human hearing too?” She introduces you to the Doctor who is, as expected, socially awkward in many ways. A man named David Rossi of whom you’ve met at least once during a few Bureau seminars; last you heard he had rejoined the BAU after retirement. Jennifer Jareau is gorgeous with a nurturing nature about her, she immediately recognizes your name from exchanged paperwork but that’s about it. The introductions are brief, everyone seems to be busy with their own things. “Penelope your team is kind of small.” You quietly mention to her.

“Oh!” Guess the realization that two people are missing, finally clicks in her head. She starts walking in the direction of a staircase so you automatically follow her. “This is Derek Morgan.” Standing in front of a round table is a tall man with a really toned body. “Derek, this is Agent Y/n L/n from Human Resources.” His eyebrow arches up in suspicion.

“Oh no I’m not here for anything bad, I’ve actual been transferred into the BAU. Working behind a desk and watching as others do the work I can’t, wasn’t working out for me.” Definitely won’t trust me until I save his life or something. “I’ve heard of you, one of the Academy trainers has shown a few videos of you.” He smirks at the implied compliment and finally holds his hand out for you to shake.

“Where’s...” Pen trails while looking around.

“Oh she’s getting coffee.” The darker man points behind himself.

“Who’s getting coffee?”

Reconciliation

Maybe we wouldn’t be so short handed if they sprung for better coffee. Emily thought to herself while stirring the flavorless, dark liquid. What if they attach a coffee shop to the building? Imagine how much money the shop would make off of overworked agents. But then I feel like we’d start developing a true addiction to this stuff. Her thoughts are interrupted by the approach of foot steps. She meets Derek’s figure and smiles at the resident goofball of the BAU. Followed by Penelope’s pink centralized outfit with feathers. Then there’s you, just as beautiful as the last time you saw each other. If not more. Your hair shines amongst the florescent lights, paired with the perfectly tailored outfit and jewelry. The same eyes that would brighten her day as they met. An almost unnoticeable bounce in you walk, same as it were years ago. As you step towards her there is a flash of gold on your wrist that sends a ping to Emily’s heart, its the necklace I gave you in high school.

Intersect

You would have know about Emily’s transfer here from a few years ago, had her paperwork gone through the HR department but apparently it went straight to the top because this is definitely a surprise. Once you realize its actually her you stop dead in your tracks. Can’t be.

“Y/n,” She stutters out your name in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Emily, I work here.” Ripping the band-aid off like this is an every day encounter; seeing your unofficial ex who you were never actually with in the first place but had the same characteristics as a high school couple. Yeah...that.

She also blurted out a ‘no you don’t’ before Garcia interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

You both snapped your heads to her simultaneously. “We don’t.” Also said that part at the same time.

“Right.” She drags. “I’m sensing some unresolved tension...”

“What are-” Em tries to object.

“So we’re going to go.” The tech analysis grabs the sleeve of the darker man and practically sprints off in the opposite direction. Morgan having a dumbfounded look on his face.

It feels like you’re at a stalemate, who will make the first move. What will the emotions be? Are they going to fly? Because I’d like to throw a few verbal punches her way. Who does that to someone? I thought I was over it but clearly the wound is still open. Great now watch her blame me for X, Y, and Z,

“I’ve missed you.” She barely whispers, sounding a bit broken yet insincere. Its like she’s detaching herself from the narrative. So unexpected that you almost think you’re imagining this. Why would she say that? This is not the Emily you remember.

Anger bubbles up in your throat ready to unleash upon her entirety. Instead of bursting into flames right on the spot, in the middle of your new place of employment you take a deep breath. Words of disbelief dance on your lips before speaking. “You did not.” She tilts her head like a curious puppy. Who am I even talking to?

“What do you mean?” And just like that she’s whisked away by a guy in a suit of whom you do not recognize. Your jaw clinches in a desperate attempt to keep your cool, wondering what the hell is going on.

Realization

Besides the surprise of seeing Emily, your first day went great. Everyone kept checking up on you and you couldn’t tell if it was because they were trying to be friendly, excited to have a new teammate, or nervous of your background. “She used to work for the FBI Human Resources Branch.” You heard the skinny one tell Morgan when they thought you weren’t listening.

JJ and Penelope invited you out for drinks but all you really wanted to do was lay in your bed with a face mask and a bag of chips. Waving a farewell to the blonde women and head to your car, but a few feet away you feel a presence. You quickly loop around in search of the energy with your hand on the top of your gun. “Woah woah.” Emily holds her hands up in surrender.

At the realization of who it is you take a breath and clip your gun back in place. You give her a “what the hell look” before straightening your outfit.

“Were you going to shoot me?”

She’s met with wide eyes from your end. “Maybe?! Who sneaks up on someone with a gun?”

“I didn’t ‘sneak’ up on you.”

“Emily, you wear all black and walk like a feather. What were you expecting?” The buried anger is starting showing through.

“Okay,” She does a weird hand movement that kind of looks like she’s trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just thought we could talk.”

“Talk...” You’re not really following.

“Yes, I’d like to talk.”

“Emily what are you asking? I’m lost.”

She take a moment to figure it out before answering. “For a second chance, I’m asking for another shot.”

You uncross your arms at the admission, letting them lazily fall beside you. “Em- I-” She can’t be asking what I think she is. “Its been years. More than a decade has passed since-” The words suddenly die on your lips

“I know,” And it looks like there’s a slight glimmer in her eyes, implying the presence of suppressed tears. “I’d just like to explain.”

“Explain?” You bite, tasting the bitter flavor of annoyance.

“Yes, I at least owe you that.”

And that’s how you ended up here, with her. In a cozy, minimalistic loft at nine in the afternoon with a coffee table separating the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing to break the silence, and this time it actually sounded sincere. “If I could have explained everything to you back then, I would have.”

You lean forward, closer to her and push the rather large vase off to the side so she has to be vulnerable with you. Nothing to help her hide from herself. At her confused face you lean back in your seat and nod for her to continue.

“My mother was always a difficult woman and although she has gotten better over the years, things were at their worst when she found out how much time I had been spending with you.” The brunette takes a minute before admitting the next part. “She was responsible for your early departure. I tried to stop her, give you more time but she’s relentless.” She waits for your reaction but when met with nothing, she continues. “She threatened me by putting our connection on the line, which in retrospect I now realize was impossible to save. She had already made calls to get you out of the country by the time I could sever what we had. I never wanted to hurt you or end what we shared.”

“And what did we share, Emily?”

Her tongue darts from between her lips, doing that weird little biting thing she’s always done since we’ve known each other. It sparks something in you that you haven't felt in a while. “I think you know. The fact that you still wear the necklace I gave you, bracelet, means you never really forgot.”

“I liked it where I could see it, but Em you could have called, texted even.”

“I couldn’t I was scared. Then after you left I started to distance myself from everyone and everything was really going downhill.”

“How so?”

“I got mixed up with peer pressure and boys.” This doesn’t sound good. “At one point I did anything I could to fit in.”

“What does that mean?” There’s a moment when a tear wells up on one of her eyes, but not dropping. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I-” She tries to speak but nothing comes out. “I couldn’t tell my mother and the church wasn’t happy with my actions.” It suddenly dawns on you, like a smack in the face. You want to make her stop and just hold her but this needs to come out. “I couldn’t call you because it would hurt too much. I hated myself at that moment more than I ever have.”

“And you haven’t dated since?”

She sniffles and lets out a little laugh at that. “God no, I’ve dated people but I haven't dated another female since. It felt wrong, like I was replacing you or something.”

“You owe me nothing. You were just trying to protect me and I see that now.”

“I knew better, its been so long and when I heard you joined the academy I-”

“Wait, you knew and didn’t say anything?”

“Y/n I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other that attempt to move on.” Silence fills the room and its not the comforting kind. Its the tense, I need to do something, kind.

“Do you feel anything?” You dare to ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Were your feelings lost in transit?”

“They froze the day you left, and thawed the day I saw you again. Today.”

“So its not over.”

She appears to contemplate your statement. “No, its not over. We have a chance to start over.”

What now?

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*★*･･*･'･*:..:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*:. .｡.:*☆

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lunetheaveragefan · 4 years

Text

one day...

Hi! This is the beginning of the first fanfiction that I’m posting here! I hope people like it!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of anxiety/a panic attack. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,691

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

CHAPTER ONE

Virgil Tempest is having a bad day.

First of all, he’d woken up late. 30 minutes late, to be exact. That left him only 10 to get ready for school, so he didn’t have time to put on his foundation. Now, the feature he hated most about himself — his freckles — would be visible for all to see.

Secondly, his favorite hoodie was in the wash, so he had to wear his old, plain black one that he hadn’t worn since at least seventh grade. It was buried in the way back of his closet, wedged between a leather jacket he’d completely forgotten he owned and the suit he had only worn once, at a funeral for some distantly related family member.

Thirdly, he forgot his headphones at home in his rush, and so now he had to suffer the whole day, unable to block out the noise of his idiotic school. He thought he had a spare pair in his backpack, but when he looked once he got to school, there weren’t any in sight.

Earlier, he thought it couldn’t get any worse, but he is sure now that it was just building up to this.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Roman Princeford apologizes loudly from above him. To say Virgil dislikes Roman would be an understatement. Roman has a ridiculously pompous name and a personality to match. The star theater kid, popular king of the school, and friend to everyone. Well, everyone except for Virgil. Even Virgil’s only friend, Logan Wise, a class-A nerd, likes Roman.

Needless to say, Virgil doesn’t see Roman’s appeal. Maybe, if Roman could stand to be a whole lot less arrogant, say, every day, or if he stopped being so excessively extra, or if he just took the time to do something other than theater and bragging, he might be tolerable. The key word there being ‘might.’

“It’s fine,” Virgil mumbles from the floor, where he had landed after Roman knocked into him while Virgil was walking. Roman had been talking to his usual group of fans, taking up most of the hallway since pretty much everyone wanted to listen to him, and had thrown out an arm in one of his usual grand gestures and pushed Virgil right over. He’d landed on the floor, books strewn everywhere, being watched by the whole hallway. Of course, it’s more crowded than usual thanks to the tall tale Roman was describing that apparently no one could afford to miss out on. It didn’t help that Roman had decided to make a big deal out of it, either.

Wishing this terrible day could just end already, Virgil shifts to a crouch and begins to gather his books. To his utter dismay, Roman bends down to help him. Annoyed as he is, Virgil can’t get up the courage to tell the other boy to leave him alone. Even so, the work goes quicker with the other boy helping, and, as much as he would hate to ever admit it, Virgil appreciates it.

They both reach for the last book on the ground at the same time, and their hands knock into each other.

“S-Sorry,” Roman says, and Virgil thinks he hears a stutter in his voice. Roman Princeford, the theater prodigy who never messes up a line, stuttering? But when Virgil looks up at Roman, there’s a blush working its way across the other boy’s tan cheeks. Strange. This close, Virgil can see the bluish specks in the other boy’s green eyes.

Roman must feel Virgil’s eyes on him, because he looks back at him, handing him his last book. Dread settles in Virgil’s stomach as he realizes that Roman must be able to see his freckles. Just as he remembers, Roman’s eyes drop to the other’s nose, where the freckles are the most noticeable. Shit, Virgil curses.

Yanking the book away from Roman, Virgil turns away and stands up, and Roman soon follows suit. There’s a redness on both of their faces now, but on Virgil’s pale skin, it’s much more visible. How long was I staring at his eyes? He shakes his head, letting his dyed-purple bangs fall over his face.

Resituating his books in his arms and weaving his way through the people, he starts the walk to his next class, art.

“Have a nice day!” Roman calls from behind him. Virgil sighs and pulls up his hood, wishing now more than ever that he had his headphones.

“Whatever,” he mutters, but the whole next period, all he can think about is Roman Princeford’s bright green eyes, tan skin, and wavy blond hair.

I must be going crazy, he decides. I mean, I know I’m gay, but gay for Roman Princeford, of all people? I don’t know him at all, and from what I’ve heard — and experienced — he’s not someone I would ever get along with. There’s no way I could possibly have a crush on him.

Right?

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

At lunch, Virgil drops down in the seat next to Logan with a thud.

“Greetings,” Logan states professionally. “Am I misperceiving your body language and demeanor or was your day thus far below average in terms of relative happiness and unpleasantly abnormal?” Virgil looks at him around his bangs, puzzled.

“What?” Is he even speaking English? Virgil wonders.

“Pardon me, I forget that you are intellectually compromised when it comes to my copious vocabulary. Let me rephrase,” Logan proclaims. He clears his throat and lays his hands on the table, his fingers pressed together to form triangle-like shapes. “Did your day suck or are you just being your—” Logan waves a hand at Virgil’s body— “regular grumpy asshole self?”

Virgil is taken aback for a second before he rolls his eyes.

“Roman fucking Princeford bumped into me in the hallway, and then had the nerve to say, ‘Have a nice day!’ afterwards in that disgustingly cheery voice of his!” Virgil complains, poking at his food. He doesn’t really intend on eating any of it; the school’s food is terrible, and besides, he isn’t too hungry anyway. He has some crackers in his bag if he really needs something to eat later.

“I do not understand why you antagonize him so often, but I suppose if you refuse to change your opinions of him, there isn’t much I can do on the matter.” Logan pauses, and Virgil has a feeling he knows what’s coming next: one of Logan’s rare discussions of emotions. “But you shouldn’t just assume that everyone is out to hurt you, Virgil.”

Yup, there it is. Virgil likes Logan’s company because he isn’t too tied up in his emotions, unlike Virgil. He knows the facts, and that’s relieving when Virgil is in the midst of a period of overwhelming anxiety. But sometimes, Logan thinks he knows what’s best for Virgil, especially when it comes to matters concerning Roman Princeford.

Scoffing, Virgil crosses his arms and leans against the back of the chair. “Whatever,” he sighs.

Logan takes a deep breath, obviously trying to calm his temper, which has a habit of getting out of control, and responds, “Virgil, this is unhealthy. You have—” But before Virgil can find out what Logan thinks he has to do, another voice cuts Logan off.

“Heya, guys! How are you?” Virgil looks up to see a shorter student standing there. This new kid’s hair is a mess of amber curls, tumbling over his forehead and slipping behind his round, wire rimmed glasses. Tan skin covered in freckles and a round face gives him a youthful look, but Virgil knows that he’s a junior just like him.

His name is Patton Hart, and Virgil, surprisingly, doesn’t hate him.

Patton is known for being one of the kindest people in the school. No matter who it is, Patton will find a way to cheer someone up. Back in December of their freshman year, Patton helped Virgil calm down during a panic attack around finals. Virgil harbors no ill will towards the kid, but it’s still strange that he’d show up at their table randomly.

Then, Virgil remembers that Patton’s best friend is the one and only Roman Princeford.

Roman probably sent Patton to tell me something. Damn, I hate that stuck up asshole. Before Virgil can open his mouth to ask Patton what he wants with them, since Logan and him are the only ones anywhere near, Logan talks first.

“Hi, Patton!” His voice is so upbeat and joy-filled that Virgil has to look over at Logan to make sure he did, indeed, speak. In the seat next to him, Logan’s face is lit up with a smile, and he looks so…well, not-Logan. And, wait, is that a blush on Logan’s cheeks?

Virgil raises his eyebrows in shock and blinks a few times to make sure what he’s seeing is real. When nothing changes when he opens his eyes, Virgil ignores the strangeness of whatever’s happening next to him and looks back at Patton.

“Hey, Patton,” he greets. “What do you need?” He tries to keep his voice annoyance-free, so not to hurt the other kid’s feelings. Patton’s a little puffball of innocence and positive energy, and the whole school has made an unspoken agreement to keep it that way.

“Oh, I just came over to talk to Logan about our science project!”

“We were paired together as lab partners today,” Logan explains, still with that wide smile on his face.

Weirded out by the scene unfolding in front of him, Virgil pokes at his food one last time and decides he’s not so hungry to risk getting food poisoning.

“Alright, then,” he says, standing up, “I’ll leave you guys alone so you can talk about your nerdy physics stuff.”

“Actually, Virgil, it’s chemistry we’re taking,” Logan informs him, some semblance of his usual professional manner returning.

“Well, it’s still science, and it’s still nerdy, so my point stands.”

Patton giggles, and Logan seems to blush, but at this point, Virgil doesn’t trust his own eyes.

“Well, goodbye, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, waving. Virgil laughs at Patton’s use of ‘kiddo’ even though they're in the same grade and waves back. Telling Logan that he’ll see him later, he turns and dumps his try, finally exiting the noise of the cafeteria.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

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mycatshuman · 4 years

Text

Fright Night But Make it Gay

Chapter 2 : Human Is Too Pretty It's Illegal

First/Previous | Next | More

Pairings: Prinxiety, Intrological, Moceit

Warnings: panic attacks, let me know if I missed any

🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻

Virgil had existed for a long time. Existed. Not lived. He wasn't alive. But he also wasn't necessarily dead either. He just kind of was. And his being had been in existence for a while. So there really wasn't a lot that surprised him anymore. He had been all around the world. More than twice. He had experienced nearly everything the world had to offer. It's cultures, environments, it's people. He had a few lovers and acquaintances here and there, but for the most part, he was alone. All on his own.

Along with being not quite dead or alive, Virgil was also immortal. Humans called what he was many things, the most simple definition was a vampire. Because of this, he had to move often to keep suspicion off of him. He didn't want any unwanted attention. He just wasn't that kind of person.

Luckily, as the world progressed into the 21st Century and touch screen phones came into existence, people became more eqngrossed in their phones and less and less concerned themselves with the business of their neighbors. It made it a lot easier for Virgil to live in a place without people noticing his lack of aging. Of course there was the occasional Karen who couldn't learn how to mind their own business but for the most part, Virgil was able to live comfortably in one place for more than five years. Lessing moving was good for him. He wasn't all too comfortable with things changing all the time.

As of late, existence for Virgil had become kind of boring. Things didn't really cchange.it was too much of the same things day in and day out. Sure there were small differences from day to day but things had become kind of dull. He had been alone for a while, deciding to take a break from people and isolate himself for a few years on top of a mountain. But now, Virgil actually found himself missing a little adventure. Interacting with people online was nice but sometimes he craved a cuddle. Was that too much to ask?

So, he decided it was time to enter the physical human world again. Virgil could never have guessed that the adventure he was so craving would come in the form of a hot as hell theater human living next door to his newest house.

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

Virgil randomly picked an area on the globe for him to move to before picking another random area on a map of that area. He repeated these steps until he had a nice little college town. After that, he worked on renting some storage and a hotel room in the town until he was able to find a suitable home in the market. He almost considered going through college again until deciding it was not for him. He was only just starting to fully immerse himself on the public again, he needed time to readjust. Maybe in a year or so he would be ready.

Surprisingly, it didn't take Virgil long to find a suitable house that he could move into. It was a nice old Victorian house. And it was relatively close to the college so if he did ultimately decide that he would go in for another degree, it wouldn't be a long commute for him. He quickly purchased the house and set up a date for the move.

Virgil moved into his new home on a stormy weekend in early September. It was in a relatively small neighborhood near the college he had been looking at. He had played for a moving company to move his things from the storage unit he had rented and into his new house. He did feel a little bad for making the movers work in rain for the better part of the day but he knew that if he moved on a sunny day, he would forget to reapply sunscreen every hour and he didn't know how to explain to people he was supervising that he was a vampire and burned easily. He also wasn't really in the mood to get a severe sunburn anytime soon. But he had paid them fairly well and bought them pizza for their drive, so he only hoped that made up for moving things in the rain.

As they drove away, he was able to truly appreciate his new home. I think I'm going to like it here.

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

It had only been a few days since he moved into his home. Unlike normal people, he didn't spend any time unpacking anything aside from the essentials. He just sat. Moving took a lot out of him. Even if he wasn't the one moving everything, it still took its toll on him. Talking to strangers, having them move his things, the anxiety with just that alone would wear out his social battery for a day. But the worst part of the entire moving process was the adjustment. Virgil had to take two whole days just getting used to the noises and movements of his new home and neighbors. He had to actively adjust to the new environment otherwise he would be woken up because of some noise that scared the hell out of him and threw him into a panic attack only to find out that it was just somebody opening their mailbox or something. (Virgil had learned his lesson from the last time it happened.)

But by the end of the first two days, Virgil was comfortable enough to begin unpacking and organizing. And by the time a week had passed, Virgil could say he had settled into the environment nicely. He was comfortable and things seemed to be going well, no one had come to bother him. There wasn't a mob outside gunning for his head. Things were good.

Then it happened.

Virgil was just bringing in some blood bags from the vamp market, minding his own business when he suddenly heard someone screaming about a vampire next door. Immediately, Virgil dropped his cargo and slammed his backdoor shut before pushing himself flat against the wall. He froze in fear as he heard the yelling again. It sounded from behind him. Oh my Selene! Did they see me?!?! Did they see the bags?!?! Are they coming for me?! No! No! No!

Whoever had yelled, however, did not come banging on his door with a torch and pitchfork. Virgil listened intently and picked up on faint, tired sounding voices as someone told whoever had yelled that it was just a dream and to go to sleep.

Virgil let out a sigh. He wasn't completely in the clear. He still didn't know if they actually saw him or not. But he also wasn't in immediate danger either. He leaned down slowly to pick up his box of blood bags so he could put them away. He would be on high alert for the next month. At least until he was sure that it was indeed just a dream. Although, he had to recognize that the supposed dream was oddly specific. He couldn't just blame it on coincidence. That could cost him greatly.

He also couldn't help but wonder how his neighbor would react if they found out he was an actual vampire. The thought terrified him. Images of horrible deaths that could be inflicted on him flashed rapidly through his head. If only he knew how opposite the reaction would be to what his anxiety riddled brain told him would happen.

-----------

The next morning, Virgil went about his business while keeping an ear on his neighbors house. He faintly heard them talking about vampires again. Most of them didn't believe the other guy. (Thankfully) But then Virgil heard the guy say that the vampire was going to bite him and then they were going to get married. Virgil froze. What the fuck?

Virgil got lost in his thoughts after that only to startled out of it when he heard a knock at the door. Virgil frowned and moved to the door and peeked out only to nearly have a heart attack. Oh no! He's hot! Slowly, he worked up an ounce of courage and opened the door. "Yes?" He asked quietly.

"Um, Hello. I'm Roman Belmonte and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood with some homemade cookies."

Virgil eyed Roman suspiciously. "Mm." Roman learned forward a little and Virgil shrunk back a little.

"Oh, who am I kidding," Roman exclaimed. "These aren't homemade cookies, they're just store-bought." A chuckle. "I was just trying to impress you, I caught a glimpse of you when you moved in and well, what can i say, you're gorgeous." And then he had the audacity to flash Virgil a flirtatious smile.

On the inside, Virgil was shouting "No! Stop! I'm already gay!" But on the outside, Virgil somehow kept his composure. He snorted. "I don't know, I mean you're hot as hell but then I found out that you didn't even make me homemade cookies and I don't know if I'm willing to date a guy who won't even put in the effort to make homemade cookies. What, are your kisses gonna be store bought too?" Virgil opened the door more and motioned for Roman to come in.

Roman's jaw dropped. Score one for Virgil! Then he licked his lips. "A date? I don't remember mentioning anything about a date...but if you're offering."

Screw you and your handsome face! Virgil snorted. "Princey, Princey, Princey, so naive," He said, in an effort to keep his composure. "You're going to have to do more than flirt with me to get a date with me."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

Virgil grinned. "Sure, pretty boy."

"Be prepared to go on a date with me," Roman said with a grin. Virgil rolled his eyes as Roman handed him the cookies. "I know they're just store bought but they're still good."

Virgil watched as the other turned to leave and frowned. "Wait." He waited until Roman was facing him again. "You don't even want to know my name?" He asked. "That's going into the cons." He was only teasing. And the flush that spread across Roman's face was worth it.

"I-well-uh, what's your name?"

Virgil smirked. "Virgil. Good luck in that challenge, Princey." He watched Roman leave with a smirk before closing the door and burying his face in the cookies and let out a high pitched squeal. "Oh my Selene! How did I do that?!?!?"

Virgil leaned back and slid down the back of his front door. He sighed somewhat dreamily. "I have never, in all my years upon this earth, been flirted with like that." Virgil stared at the boxes scattered around the foyer. "Wow," he breathed. Long had he forgotten about the fact that his next door neighbor suspected he was a vampire. He was too busy in his gay panic. He had been flirted with. It was going to take him a bit to recover from that being the gay mess that he is. Little did he know the other was in the same boat.

----------

Virgil stared at his phone in utter horror. "What…Roman are you there?" He already knew he wasn't. He had heard the line go dead. What's going on? What is Roman's family doing? It took Virgil a few more seconds for things to fully register. What if they had found out what Virgil was!?!? Virgil jumped up and quickly tried to figure out where Roman was. As soon as he figured out, he was out the door.

Only to come back in and get his car keys. It was daylight out and he couldn't very well run without risking getting spotted. Plus, he was too worried about his boyfriend to put sunscreen on. Virgil quickly climbed into his car, a nice '67 Chevy Impala, and started the engine and set his GPS to Roman's location. He was really lucky that Remus had forgotten to check to see if Roman's location was on.

"Don't worry, Ro. I'm coming. I'm your Prince Charming this time."

🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻

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notquitedailyamy · 4 years

Text

Black and Yellow

Since visiting Derek Jarman’s Prospect Cottage in Dungeness last month, I’ve sat down on several occasions intending to share the experience with you. But distilling my thoughts wasn’t easy! The place left my head so full of thoughts and stirred a lot of emotion in me, and transcribing the singular magic of it into words felt beyond me. Each time I’d lose the tousle with my brain, and clap the laptop shut again.

Then I found the following starting point; a quote from Howard Sooley, photographer and friend of Derek Jarman, that described the setting I found myself in, on arrival to the cottage, perfectly.

“Pulling up on Dungeness Road, I stared out of the car window on to a post-apocalyptic nuclear vision: a long, snaking road strung with a line of black fishermen’s cottages like tar-covered fairy lights; a beach strewn in a mess of seemingly abandoned fishing boats and huts, which looked like they’d just tumbled from the sky and landed randomly among the sea kale that inhabited the beach.

— Howard Sooley for Gardens Illustrated

And now, I think, with that striking scene set, I can continue...

Discovering Derek Jarman

On one particular stay at my aunt and uncle’s house in Cheltenham years ago, there was an addition to the mantelpiece in my bedroom: a dried sprig of sea kale in a narrow white vase. My aunt recounted how she and my uncle had lately travelled to Dungeness, a headland on the coast of Kent, and how she had found the pretty bit of plant blowing across the shingle there. They had been to see the cottage and garden of a man whose name I did not then recognise, Derek Jarman; “a very special place”. And, I was told that in the front room there was a book entitled Derek Jarman’s Garden, from which I could learn more.

From my aunt’s introductory account, to each article and interview I have since read or watched regarding Derek Jarman since, I have found him only to be described in the fondest, most admiring manner. Those who are aware of his story, or who were lucky enough to have had their lives directly touched by him, laud his generous spirit and remain in awe of his remarkable array of talents, from film-maker to set designer, from optimist to activist, from gardener to diarist and author. He is remembered not only as being one of the most influential figures of 20th century culture, but also for his breathtaking humility, prolific activism for gay rights (via protest as well as his artistic output - much of which served as a manifesto for open homosexuality), inspiration and support for young and aspiring film makers and creatives. Award-winning costume designer and friend of Jarman’s Sandy Powell sums up his inherent warmth of character and contagious passion for whatever he turned his hand to in a recent interview with Phillips Auction House:

“Derek said to me that there was absolutely no point in going to work every day unless you went with the same excitement as if you were going to a party. With him, I’d get to work every morning and I would be so excited about going to work.

[...] He just immediately made you feel comfortable, and you were never ever made to feel inferior. Even on a film set, he’d be sat there, waiting for the next setup, and I remember there were times when he would ask the person who was sweeping the floor of the set what he thought. He’d talk aloud about his ideas. He’d set something up and say, "What do you think about that? Should we do this?" and he’d actually listen to what that person had to say. Anybody. He’d listen to what any of us had to say, and I think we were all treated completely equally"

— Sandy Powell, interviewed by Phillips

My aunt located her copy of Derek Jarman’s Garden for me later that day - a smallish, unassuming publication, on the verge of being swallowed up by the heaving art library that surrounded it (my uncle and aunt are both artists themselves). I was enthralled by it, poring the pages for the rest of my stay.

^ Derek Jarman at Prospect Cottage. © Howard Sooley

Having spotted a ‘for sale’ sign whilst filming close by, Derek Jarman sought refuge in his Dungeness fisherman’s cottage after being diagnosed as HIV positive in 1986. He dedicated himself to creating a paradisiacal and sustaining garden in the salty, exposed shingle which skirted his new home.

“Dungeness was England through the looking glass, not William Blake’s bucolic vision of a Jerusalem in this ‘green and pleasant land’. Stark, barren, the sun searing down or rain whipping across the landscape – everything seemed to be dying. Bleached by the sun, ripped by the wind, eaten by salt, laid bare and exposed by the enormity of the sky. A world stripped to its bones, abandoned and motionless except for the dried seedheads of sea kale blowing like tumbleweed in the shadow of the power station. The images are etched in my memory.”

— Howard Sooley for Gardens Illustrated

...a pretty tall task then . But that’s what he did. Choosing a spectrum of plants that could stand up to the testing climes of his “Ness”, largely low-lying to endure high winds, others that were already indigenous of the area, Derek Jarman transformed Prospect Cottage into a defiant monument of imagination and hope.

An unforgettable day in Dungeness

Gradually the landscape flattened, the villages became fewer and further between, then villages became hamlets, and then there was nobody, save the odd remote farmhouse - we wondered how far they must have to travel for groceries! Then human presence came almost to a standstill, and it felt like we had gatecrashed a sci-fi movie set. Fencing lined the road, periodic signs warning people away from the military firing range, still not a soul to be seen. We weren’t tempted to trespass - it was all pretty spooky!

And then, on the horizon, a giant appeared. The jagged grey silhouette of Dungeness A and Dungeness B - not one, but two massive nuclear power stations. We popped Boards of Canada on the stereo. I challenge you for a better accompaniment to such a sight.

“The nuclear power station is a wonderment. At night it looks like a great liner or a small Manhattan ablaze with a thousand lights of different colour.”

— Derek Jarman, from Derek Jarman’s Garden

We continued along the silent road a while longer, and then suddenly it was there. Years of wondering about the garden, and then there it was, right there, just by the side of the road... no fence, no gate, no borders or barriers of any kind. No separation from the outside at all.

I was relieved to see a handful of people around, though it still felt astonishingly desolate. We pulled up right outside the cottage, amazed it was that easy.

A jewel in the string of tiny rustic dwellings, and a David to the looming Goliath backdrop of the two nuclear plants, Prospect Cottage bursts with vitality and vibrance. Emanating a kind of otherworldly, magical quality, it flourishes where all else is bleak, tangerine coloured Californian poppies and sunshine yellow window frames laughing proudly.

“At first, people thought I was building a garden for magical purposes – a white witch out to get the nuclear power station. It did have magic – the magic of surprise, the treasure hunt.”

— Derek Jarman, from Derek Jarman’s Garden

Just as there are no borders, there are no strict lines or flower beds to speak of. Santolina, valerian and the odd red hot poker rise straight from the sea-worn shingle floor, while sea kale sprawls in patches. Hemispheres of gorse and vertically pegged driftwood add degrees of height, while talismanic stone circles and flotsam sculptures ensure the eye is never short of interest. Jarman would comb the beach every morning for new metal treasures, rocks and interesting things washed up by the sea. He’d always reap the biggest rewards following a storm.

“The stones, especially the circles, remind me of dolmens, standing stones. They have the same mysterious power to attract.”

— Derek Jarman, from Derek Jarman’s Garden

“The sticks and sculptures [...] also had the unexpected gift of providing much-welcomed perches for the migratory birds that navigate over the ness every year. Rare warblers from Russia would stand and catch their breath, staring in at the kitchen window. Then, without warning, they’d lift into the air, catch the wind and be off again to some far and distant land.”

— Howard Sooley for Gardens Illustrated

^ Derek Jarman also scoured the land around the nuclear power plant for bits and pieces to use in the garden, some of it detritus from the Second World War

Already I had felt the enchantment of Derek Jarman’s living legacy exuding from those pages of my aunt’s book, but experiencing it in the flesh was on a different level. It’s as though he left a message there, everlastingly poised and waiting to be received by anyone who visits.

Standing amidst such a unique and spectacular achievement, by a man who had been dealt such a cruel fate, made me feel incredibly appreciative for all that I have, all that is so easy for me. His life was cut too short, but undoubtedly lived more fully than many who have reached a much older age.

It also gave me new confidence that in my own creativity I am doing something worthwhile, and that by staying true to myself and not allowing conformity to stifle my output, I can add my own dose of originality and something truly unique to the world.

^ Poppy seed heads

“He was just really encouraging to all young people, and I think that’s what this house could be. It’s this really open house to encourage people to come and be creative and get as much as they can out of it, and I think he would have wanted that.”

— Sandy Powell, interviewed by Phillips

^ Indigenous sea kale

Long live the legacy

The future of Prospect Cottage was recently left up in the air following the passing of Keith Collins, Derek’s companion during his years in Dungeness, and in whose hands he left the cottage following his death in 1994.

The Art Fund launched a campaign to save the property from being sold off and falling into private ownership. The £3.5 million required was raised in just ten weeks.

“Securing the future of Prospect Cottage may seem a minor thing by comparison with the global epidemic crisis which has recently enveloped all our lives. But Derek Jarman’s final years at the Cottage were an inspiring example of human optimism, creativity and courage battling against the ravages of illness. In that context, the success of this campaign seems all the more apposite and right for its time.”

— Stephen Deuchar, Director of Art Fund

“Prospect Cottage will become not a memorial encased in amber, but an active memory. Not an ossified monument, but a breathing testament to a life still awaiting future collaborators”

— Douglas Fogle for Art Forum

^ The frontward outlook of Prospect Cottage

The whole place is jaw-droppingly unique, the garden itself a post-modern feat of ingenuity. Eerie, exciting, bleak, inspiring... only describable to a point. I implore you not to trust my interpretation and instead go and marvel at it for yourself! And prepare to have it stay with you long after...

Suitable Song -

Annie Lennox’s performance of “Every Time We Say Goodbye” from the AIDS fundraising album Red Hot & Blue. The video features footage of Derek Jarman as a child.

youtube

Sources -

https://www.gardensillustrated.com/gardens/country/howard-sooley-prospect-cottage-derek-jarman/?image=1&type=gallery&gallery=2&embedded_slideshow=2

https://www.artforum.com/slant/douglas-fogle-on-derek-jarman-s-imperiled-prospect-cottage-82157

https://wildabouthere.com/derek-jarmans-garden/

https://www.artlyst.com/news/derek-jarmans-prospect-cottage-saved-nation/

https://www.phillips.com/article/54833655/sandy-powell-derek-jarman-charity-auction-prospect-cottage

#derek jarman #gardens #gardening #inspiration #creative minds #art fund #derek jarman's garden #sandy powell #howard sooley #dungeness #shingle

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queerbutstillhere · 4 years

Note

Hi how are you? Yo remember that Jercy fluff piece with them realizing they’re gay for each other and both going ‘oh’. If you are up to it please make a part 2 it was so cute and I want them to like confess or something I stg you are such a good writer and your stuff is so cute thankssssa ❤️❤️🥰🥰

HI! Thanks for Asking!!! I’ve been wanting to write a part two to this for a while!!!! Click the link just below for part one!

Part One!

It had been two weeks since their sleep over.

Neither one had addressed anything, but the sad pining from across the dining pavilion and the mildly sexual sparing fights and the constant flirting was driving their friends insane.

(So insane that they had literally made a bet on when the two were going to get together. Nico and Annabeth said it wouldn't be until the last day of summer camp, while Will and Grover insisted it'd be within the first few weeks.)

The truth of the matter was neither one of them had any idea how to handle this.

Sure they had both been in relationships, but that was with girls, plus what if the other one didn't feel the same? Coming out to themselves had been a whole thing on its own, let alone coming out to their friends. Percy had told Annabeth first, and she just smiled and ruffled his hair. Meanwhile Jason nearly had a breakdown, bursting in on Will and Nico(who had been trying to have a nice evening in) and just ranted to them for nearly twenty minutes. They had heard so much about how hot Percy was in those twenty minutes. Nico had responded bluntly with "then go fucking kiss him, you dumbass".

"But what if he hates me after!" Jason had cried, truly distraught.

"He's not going to, trust us, Jason," Will had assured him.

Jason had promptly ignored their advice and returned to wallowing in self misery and hopeless pining. If only he had known it wasn't hopeless.

Percy, on the other hand, was accepting this rather gracefully. He wasn't terribly surprised he was bisexual, or pansexual, whatever. He'd spent enough time in Camp Jupiter, working out with hot Romans to have begun to realize that he wasn't just attracted to women. The problem was that he was hardcore crushing on his best friend. The boyscout, Jason Grace. Who was probably straight.

Why was his life a constant wheel of disappointment?

So, with the two idiots hopelessly in love and hopelessly dancing around each other, their friends abandoned the bet and decided to start playing matchmaker. Their rules were simple, however. They would not outright tell one that the other was crushing, because it was Percy and Jason's job to come out to the other. Even if it was so painful to watch.

There were so many times when they had arranged a group hangout, and then everyone else bailed fairly early, in the hopes that they would get talking and confess. But alas. It had yet to happen, and they were nearing mid July.

The turning point came when a group of them were hanging out around a campfire, late at night, and Percy, having forgotten that he hadn't told everyone, just spoke without thinking.

"I'm thinking about coming out to my mom."

There was a brief pause of silence before Will spoke.

"Yeah? How do you think she'll react?"

"Dunno, I think she'll be okay?" Percy said, glancing up from his intense staring into the fire, and then looking over at Jason.

Jason's blue eyes were the size of the full moon behind him, his mouth hanging open.

"What?" Percy asked with a laugh, and then it hit him.

Jason didn't know.

"Oh," he said softly. "Yeah I'm . . . Bi or something."

"O-oh," Jason squeaked out, voice cracking uncharacteristically. "Cool."

Nico suddenly burst out in laughter, immediately getting yelled at by Will and Katie Gardner. Percy frowned at them, before glancing at Jason, nervousness filling him. What was Jason thinking? He was chill with Nico and Will, surely he'd be okay with Percy being Bi?

Surely.

Jason was freaking out. Very silently. He did know how to keep his chill. But he was struggling. Because his brain was a screaming mess of "oh my gods he's bi. Oh my gods I might actually have a chance with him. Oh my gods-". Listen, he's just a chaotic, messy disaster bisexual, he doesn't know how to do these things.

It took nearly two days for him to bring it up, and even then it was just to Nico at breakfast.

"How long have you guys known he was bi?" Jason asked softly.

Today Nico was sitting with him. Will had pulled a late night at the infirmary and was still asleep, so Nico had no reason to sit with the Apollo cabin. The big three kids usually sat together, but Percy had gone home for the weekend, so it was just Jason and Nico sitting at what would have been the Cabin 1 table, but had just become the joint table.

"For like, weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me!"

Nico shrugged, pushing around his eggs on his plate. "Wasn't my place? You remember when Eros outed me?"

"Oh, right. Shit. . . "

Another shrug from the younger teen. They sat in silence.

"Are you gonna tell him?"

"What!" Jason asked, glancing up at Nico, who was now done with his eggs.

"Percy? Are you gonna tell him you're not straight?"

"I dunno. I dunno what I am."

Nico frowned, reaching to steal Jason's bacon. Jason didn't complain.

"What do you mean."

"It's like…. It's hard to explain. Like." Jason sighed, turning to face Nico. "Katie is really pretty, right?"

Nico turned to look at their friend, shrugging lightly. "Yeah."

"But I'm not like… attracted to her, or really, any woman? And when I realized I thought, oh, maybe I'm gay, but like. Malcom is really handsome. And I'm not attracted to him either."

Nico's gaze swung to the co-counselor of the Athena cabin. Then he looked back to Jason, frowning lightly.

"So then I was thinking, maybe I'm ace?" Jason continued, rambling now, more than anything. "But bro, Percy is hot as hell, and I'm incredibly attracted to him. So I'm just confused."

Nico was silent, staring down at the table.

"Demisexual?" He said randomly.

"What? What's that?"

"It just. . . Demisexual's don't really experience sexual attraction unless they have a strong emotional bond with someone. It's kinda what you just described to me."

Jason stared at him with wide eyes."Holy shit."

Nico smirked slightly, collecting his dishes and standing. "I gotta go get Will, but feel free to come chat during lunch."

"Yeah," Jason murmured, staring at the table and Nico walked away.

Mind blown.

By the time Percy got back Monday, Jason was mostly through his crisis. He had spent most of his free time Sunday researching sexualities and mostly demisexual. He felt that Nico had been right.

Percy came jogging over after his return Monday afternoon. Jason was in the middle of sparring with a kid from the Ares cabin when Percy called him over.

"Hold on," Jason told his opponent as he stepped back.

He still fought with the Roman style, and it drove the Greeks insane, Percy most especially.

"Yeah, sure," the younger camper said with an amused smirk.

Jason turned away and walked over to Percy. He was wearing an orange t-shirt and what looked like boardshorts, as well as sandals, and a couple bracelets that ran up his forearms. He was grinning, sunglasses pushing his messy black hair up.

"Hey, boy scout," Percy hummed, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Percy, how was your weekend?" Jason asked, throwing an arm around Percy's shoulders and leaning on him.

Percy groaned dramatically, tilting his head away. "You're gross!" He exclaimed, yet slipped his arm around Jason's stomach, turning and leading him away from the other kids who were sparing in the small arena.

Jason couldn't ignore the flutter in his stomach as Percy's strong arm pulled him in tight against his side.

"My weekend was great. Estelle was so stoked to see me, we went to the park all day Saturday while mom and Paul went out grocery shopping."

"That's great!" Jason exclaimed, thinking faintly that he couldn't wait to see Thalia.

"Yup, and I talked to mom and Paul. . ."

Percy had stopped walking but hadn't let go of Jason yet, swaying them back and forth lightly.

"What about?" Jason asked, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to remember.

Percy looked down at him, looking amused.

"What?" Jason asked with a slight laugh, head tilted to be able to look at Percy comfortably.

"I was coming out to them this weekend?"

Oh gods Jason was an idiot.

"Fuck, I forgot!”

Percy laughed, eyes crinkling slightly. Jason's heart fluttered as his friend grinned down at him.

"Did you have a busy weekend?"

"Uh, a little? Nico and I hung out most of Saturday, Sunday I was in charge of activities."

"Oh yeah? It's good that you and Nico are so close," Percy hummed out.

"Yeah. He's a good kid. Wiser than his age."

"That's for sure."

They looked up at each other in silence for a bit, neither speaking, they were incredibly close, Jason could probably just lean in and kiss him…

Two things happened at once. First, Jason watched Percy's eyes flicker down to his lips, as he licked his own and started to lean in. And then they both heard the explosion from across camp.

"Oh shit," Percy exclaimed, pulling away.

Annoyed shouting could be heard.

"Harley," they both said at once, then laughed.

"I got it," Percy said, pulling away. "See you 'round!"

Jason watched him jog away and just then processed that Percy had been about to kiss him.

Thursday night at campfire was the next time they were actually anything close to alone. They were sitting together, off to one side, munching on their smores and listening to campfire songs.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?"

Jason looked over at Percy, realizing suddenly that Percy was looking at him and not the campfire.

"What?"

"Come on, we're counselor's aren't we? Let's abuse our powers," Percy told him, standing and offering his hand to Jason.

Jason put his clean hand(his other one had marshmallow on it) in Percy's and let himself be pulled up. Percy snagged a bag of marshmallows and led Jason towards the lake.

"Why'd you get the marshmallows?" Jason asked with a laugh as he sat on the dock.

"The nymphs like them."

Percy ripped open the bag and pulled a few out. He held his hand out and a few nymphs popped out of the water, snatching them and then disappearing.

"Huh. . . " Jason said softly, staring at the ripples in the water. Percy kicked off his shoes and then sat next to Jason, dangling his feet into the lake.

They sat in silence for a while, shoulders just barely brushing, Percy occasionally giving the nymphs more marshmallows, occasionally eating one himself.

"Hey, Percy."

"Yeah?"

"I think. . . " Jason stopped, clearing his throat. He was staring at the water, watching the way it rippled around Percy's ankles. "I think I'm demisexual."

Percy was silent for a bit, then looked over. "Okay. . . Could you explain that to me?"

Jason smiled slightly as they made eye contact, he carefully explained it to Percy, who listened silently, absorbing this information, his feet kicking through the water as he thought.

"Thank you for telling me, Jason," Percy said softly, putting his hand on Jason's thigh. "And I support you completely."

"Thanks," Jason said softly, smiling at Percy.

Percy grinned back, offering him a marshmallow then looking back over the lake. Silence stretched over them, they could faintly hear the campfire songs drifting over.

"Percy?" Jason said softly, trying to get his attention.

"Yeah?"

Percy looked over at him, and Jason leaned in, quickly kissing him. Percy made a slightly surprised noise but was instantly pressing back into him. Jason pulled away first, just far enough that he could look at Percy in the pale moonlight. Percy swallowed, licking his lips before leaning in and kissing Jason again, hand resting on his leg.

"Wow," Jason breathed out.

Percy started laughing, falling back to lay on the dock.

"Hey!" Jason protested, hitting his friend's stomach.

"I'm sorry! But we kiss and what you have to say is 'neat'?!"

"Shut up! I didn't think you actually liked me back!!!"

Percy just laughed and shook his head, looking up at him.

"Jason, you were literally my gay awakening."

Jason felt his eyes go wide. "Oh-"

Percy grinned at him. "You remember that weekend you spent the night at my house?"

Jason nodded.

"That's when I realized I was attracted to guys, and specifically you."

"Oh. . . " Jason said, yet again.

Percy nudged his hip. "And here I was worrying you did like me like that."

Jason made a noise that can only be typed as 'ajdjshdhs', shaking his head rapidly. "No. You're- you're the first person I've actually felt this way towards in. . . Well a long time."

"Really? Not even Piper?"

Jason shook his head. "That was a weird situation . . ."

Percy shrugged. "Yeah, you're right."

He sat up and turned to face Jason, crossing his legs. Then he laughed again, shaking his head.

“Wow.” He whispered, mocking Jason.

"Shut up!" Jason yelled, lunging and shoving the still laughing Percy off the dock.

Send me a prompt!

#thanks for the prompt!#thanks for the ask!#send me asks #send me prompts and shiz #send me prompts #prompt ask #asks open #korey answers #queerbutstillhere writes #queerbutstillhere #jercy fluff #jercy #jason grace #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #Heroes of Olympus #coming out #pining

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johnlockfeelz · 5 years

Text

Encounters

Okay so this is my first attempt at writing a one shot, and posting it. I’m only posting it cause my friend @realrandomposts told me I should. Sorry in advance for this cringe fest you’re bout to go on!

Stiles Stilinksi knew he was gay when he was fifteen years old. Fawning over the most popular girl in school, before suddenly finding himself VERY interested in one of the lacrosse players put that into perspective rather quickly. He and his best friend Scott talked things out and came to the conclusion that Lydia was merely a crush, not even a serious one at that, whereas his crush on Danny was extremely persistent and serious.

Being gay wasn’t that hard for Stiles. Despite living in a small town, everyone was surprisingly supportive of his sexuality, especially the people that truly mattered to him, like his father and friends (Danny not so much, but only because he got annoyed with Stiles’ terrible attempts to flirt with him pretty quickly.)

Stiles worked in the local Clifton’s, which was basically Beacon Hills’ version of a Walmart, albeit a little smaller. Still had the same functions however. Stiles himself worked in the Apparel department, a department usually designated for females but Stiles supposes to the managers, a gay male is basically the same thing. Assholes.

Stiles was actually having an okay shift that day, for once. No customers being rude, not being overloaded on returns from the customer service desk, that he had to retag and fold and put back in its place.

The day went south, when he saw him. Coming in early that afternoon to start his shift, he’d just clocked in and was headed to the swinging double doors that led out to merchandise floor when what Stiles could only deduce was a god walked by him. The man had to be at least 6”2’, and a wall of pure muscle, topped with short, gorgeous dark black hair that Stiles instantly wanted to run his fingers through.

He was on his phone as he passed Stiles, so he didn’t see his eye color, but man did Stiles want to suddenly know everything about this guy. Of course, he wouldn’t though. You see Stiles is a very awkward twenty year old young man, he never grew out of that phase in his teenage years, so if Stiles found someone attractive, he made sure that said person would NEVER hear from him so that he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of them.

His method, however sad and pitiful, was working well for him until about an hour before the end of his shift that night.

Every other Apparel associate, including one of his best friends Lydia, had already left for the night. He was the only one that was scheduled to 11pm that night. He was in the women’s athletics department, fixing a rack of sports shorts, when he saw a shadow out of his left peripheral. He looked up just in case it was a customer that he had to smile politely at, and made direct eye contact with the god from the back room this afternoon. Now meeting his eyes, Stiles could see that they were a hypnotic chocolate brown that Stiles felt he could just drown in.

Upon realizing that he’d actually looked into the most attractive person he’s ever seen eyes, Stiles’ instantly widened and dropped back down to the rack he was working on, barely scraping his view across the name tag on the man’s chest that read ‘Derek’, before he fixed one last hanger and instantly flew back to the fitting room to finish cleaning the rooms, not noticing how Derek’s eyes stayed on Stiles’ figure until he disappeared around the corner.

Any day Stiles worked following that mishap, he made absolutely sure that Derek was no where to be found. He didn’t want to accidentally see him again and end up embarrassing himself in front of that beautiful man by being his awkward self, as that’s all Stiles knows how to do.

Lydia thought the situation was hilarious. “Stiles, it’s just a guy! You don’t have to avoid him like the plague.” Lydia laughed two weeks later, as she leaned against the fitting room stall, staring at Stiles on the other side as he put the phone he’d just answered back in this cradle.

“You don’t understand, Lydia!” Stiles moaned, resting his head in his hands. “I made eye contact with him! DIRECT eye contact! It should be obvious why I can never let him see me again.”

“But it’s not.” Lydia shrugged. “So what? You looked a hot guy in the eyes, it’s not like you murdered his family.”

“That’s precisely why I can’t ever let him see me again. I looked him in the eyes. A man like that, you don’t just MEET his eyes without permission. You just don’t, Lydia! He’s godly, you don’t look gods in the face and get away with it! What if he’s offended now?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, fiddling with her name badge. “Honestly Stiles, you’re thinking too much into it. You’re blowing things out of proportion.”

“Maybe I am.” Stiles responded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop avoiding him. It’s not that hard, either. I only see him like three times a week. He’s a fresh CAP2 associate, I never deal with CAP associates.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head. “I’m headed back to the men’s basics. Jennifer wants that entire section zoned and the deeper I go into it the more I want to kill myself.”

“Wait, real quick!” Stiles called out after her, pulling the fitting room keys off his forearm and the walkie talkie out of his back pocket. “It’s time for my break, can you watch fitting room until. I get back?”

Lydia held her hand out, catching the keys as he tossed them to her, instructing him to leave the walkie in the fitting room stall.

Stiles pulled his phone out the minute he got to the break room, sitting down at an empty table. He didn’t notice the tall dark and handsome guy he’d been avoiding for weeks sitting at a table a few feet away, with a dark haired beauty right beside him. The girl followed Derek’s gaze to the brown haired little twink looking boy playing on his phone. The woman met Derek’s eyes before she motioned for him to leave, getting up and walking to Stiles’ table, plopping herself down beside him.

Stiles started as someone randomly sat down with him. He usually sat by himself, as the only person who worked at Clifton’s that he actually spoke to was Lydia, and they rarely had breaks or lunch together.

“Hi.” The woman smiled at him, making him a little uneasy. This was a woman who looked like she could easily snap his neck with one hand, and laugh as she did it. In short, she looked dangerous. “I’m Cora.”

“Nice to meet you.” Stiles said politely, setting his phone down. It’s rude to talk to someone while you’re on your phone. “My name’s Stiles.”

“Weird name.” Cora replied, popping a bubblegum bubble in his face.”

“Not as weird as my actual name. Stiles in a nickname.” he shrugged.

“Wanna be friends?” Cora asked, glancing over his shoulder as Derek slowly made his way out of the break room, stopping only to glance at the two of them curiously, trying to figure out what the hell Cora was planning.

“I mean, I doubt you’d wanna be friends with little ole me but I guess I can’t tell you no. You look like the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Cora smiled that sickly sweet, deadly (at least in Stiles’ opinion) smile again. “No, no I don’t.” she chuckled.

And that was how Stiles found most of his shifts passing by after that. Cora seemed to hunt Stiles down, just to talk to him and learn more about him. He learned more about her too. He found out her last name is Hale, and she was twenty-two years old. She was from a very large family, including a sister and a brother. She worked in the pharmacy department, but was friends with a lot of CAP2 associates and spent most of her time with them.

She learned everything there was to know about Stiles. His family and friends, his age, his history, and (most importantly to her plan), his sexuality.

“You’re gay?” Cora asked about three weeks after introducing herself to him. They were both coming back from lunch, and were headed into the back room to clock in.

“Well, yeah. I figured that was obvious. Most everyone can tell just from looking at me.” he replied, gesturing to his skinny, pale body covered in freckles. Cora smiles a secretive smile. Oh this is going perfectly well.

“How long have you known you’re gay?” she asked, leading the way past the double doors.

“Since I was-“ Stiles’ eyes widened, and he instantly ducked around the corner to the stock room, dragging Cora with him.

“Shit! What the fuck Stiles!” Cora hissed. Stiles shushed her, peeking around the corner to make sure Derek was out of sight.

“I’ve been avoiding this guy that works in Fresh CAP2 for like a month now, I’ve gotta make sure he doesn’t see me.” Stiles explained as he made sure the coast was clear and came out of his hiding spot.

“Fresh CAP....” she muttered, her eyes widening as she theorized, “Is his name Derek, by chance?”

Stiles side-eyed her as he swiped his name badge and hit the clock in button. “Yeah, you know him? Super tall, always looks broody, godly-looks.” Stiles sighed wistfully. “God, what I wouldn’t give to be his bottom.”

Cora wrinkled her nose up in disgust at his last comment, before clocking in herself. She didn’t need to know about Stiles’ fantasies about her brother. Not that he KNEW that was her brother, of course, but she still didn’t wanna hear about it.

“Wait wait wait.” What Stiles had said suddenly clicked in her brain. “If you have a crush on him, WHY are you avoiding him?”

Stiles scoffed. “I do not have a crush on him. I just think he’s very attractive. And domineering. And heaven sent. And-“ Stiles caught the look she was giving him and threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay so maybe I have a little crush on him. It’s very little though! But like, a month ago, I made eye contact with him and I’ve made sure to avoid him seeing me since.”

Cora didn’t bother to hide her confusion. “Why would you avoid him just because you guys made eye contact?” She didn’t understand honestly. What was the big deal?

Stiles bit his lip. “You see....I am a very awkward person, I’m sure you’ve discovered this by now. And I’m not really a very popular person either, or liked honestly.” Stiles bent his head down in shame. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m not worthy of his attention. Not like someone that looks like THAT would ever be interested in someone that looks like me. I know I’m extremely plain-looking. I just don’t want to get hurt by trying to talk to him, or anything and risk embarrassing myself in front of him. And I’m sure he doesn’t want some annoying ass kid bothering him either. I know I’m a bother, everyone tells me that often. I just don’t want HIM to hate me for bothering him, you know?”

If Cora wasn’t such a heartless person, she’d be heartbroken listening to Stiles rant about his worthlessness and being undeserving of an attractive person’s attention. Did he not know that Derek was crazy about him, and has been hurting for quite a bit of time, because of Stiles’ avoidance of him? Derek has ranted and raved to Cora more than once about the cute little apparel associate that stole his heart and has run like a bat out of hell at the sight of him since.

That was why she had befriended Stiles in the first place. She was determined to get to the bottom of Stiles’ apparent hate of her brother, because it hurt her to see her brother so sad over his crush hating him and wanting nothing to do with him.

“And what would you do, if that wasn’t the case?” Cora asked carefully. “What if he was interested in you?”

Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, right Cora. That’s never going to happen. And I’ve got to get back to the fitting room. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

She nodded in response, watching as the object of Derek’s affection jogged away so as not to get yelled at about being late by his friend Lydia.

That boy sure has a lot of self-deprecation. She thought to herself as she walked out to the produce section in search of her older brother. Maybe a nice loving boyfriend can help fix that. Once I fix this situation they’re in.

Later that night, his shift coming to a close, Stiles was almost done cleaning out the fitting rooms and locking the doors when he heard a throat clearing from the associate’s stall. “Give me just a sec, and I’ll be right with you!” He called over his shoulder, sweeping the dust off the floor into the dustpan and dumping it. He wiped his hands on his pants before turning to face the front of the stalls, ready to assist what he assumed was a customer.

His mouth went dry as he came face to face with the man he’d been avoiding for over a month. “Oh! Hi there. I-I think I hear someone calling my name so im just gonna go that way and never grace your sightagainokaybye!” Stiles spluttered, turning and getting ready to run from this situation of his own making.

“Wait!” Derek called out quickly, skirting around the stall and grabbing Stiles’ wrist before the younger man could get too far. “Why are you avoiding me.”

Stiles froze, so not ready for the Adonis to actually speak to him, let alone confront him about him dodging him. Maybe he doesn’t like being ignored? Yeah that’s gotta be it, he doesn’t like being ignored, therefore Stiles offended him.

“Ah, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you! I just didn’t think you’d want me to be anywhere near you after what I did.” he explained softly, trying to make his self seem as little as possible so as not to set Derek off and possibly make him even more upset.

Derek nearly growled in frustration, running a hand through his short hair. “What you did-Stiles, all you did was look at me! That doesn’t warrant suddenly treating me like I have contagious disease or something.”

Stiles blinked at him owlishly. “How do you know my name?” He wondered aloud. Derek sucked in a breath, almost lying and telling him he read his name badge, before hesitantly deciding to tell the truth. Might as well get the truth out there first.

“Cora.” he confessed.

“Cora?” Stiles echoed. “Has Cora been talking about me? I swear whatever she says isn’t true!”

Derek chuckled, slightly loosening his grip on Stiles’ wrist. “Cora’s my sister, Stiles. She’s heard me talking about the adorable Fitting Room Associate that seemingly hates me, and she took it into her own hands to find out why my crush was acting like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Your crush?” Stiles questioned.

Derek smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, my crush. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to you for a while now, but then out of nowhere you just started avoiding me. It hurt, you know. And Cora, she’s helpful when she wants to be. So she made it her personal goal to get you to talk to me. She just told me today, why you’ve been doing it. And I wanted to tell you, you don’t have to. I’m not mad, I’m not upset, nothing. I just really want to get to know you better, and possibly have a relationship with you. I really like you Stiles, and I want a shot with you.”

Stiles felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of his sadness. He didn’t know that he was hurting Derek the more he avoided him. That thought had never crossed his mind.

He slowly reached out and laid his hand on Derek’s that was still holding his arm. “I’m sorry Derek, I didn’t know you actually knew who I was, let alone enough for me to upset you by avoiding you. How can I make it up to you?”

The older man’s whole being seemed to glow with happiness at Stiles’ words. “How about this Friday, if we’re both off, we go to Rudy’s?” Derek asked, his tone very audibly hopeful.

Stiles’ own smile widened at seeing Derek so happy. “It’s a date.” he said slyly, meeting Derek’s beautiful brown eyes.

Looks like Stiles had his very first date coming up soon. And with a hot guy no less. He couldn’t wait to tell Lydia about this.

#sterek #cringe #alternate universe #so sorry

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 6 years

Note

Your fake relationship recs were so great! I was wondering if you had any friends to lovers recs? Or is that too close to the same lol? Thanks so much :)

Hey @motherof4dragons,

First of all, check out this wonderful friends to lovers fic rec list by @scout451!

I’m adding my own recs below.

Hugs,

Marjan

Across the Ocean by @prideofportree

Kurt and Blaine never got together and they slowly drifted apart after Kurt transferred back to WMHS. 4 years later Kurt is working at Vogue.com in New York and Blaine is studying Musical Theatre in London. They email.

A Coffeeshop Narrative by @slipping-through-my-fingertips

This was inspired by the 2009 flashback episode of season 6 when Blaine is seen at the Lima Bean handing Mercedes some sugar. What if Kurt and Blaine had met at the Lima Bean instead of Dalton?

All You Need Is Lpve by @reremouse, and its counterpart The Cowardly Blaine Finds His Nerve

Eleven conversations Kurt had and one time the words weren’t really necessary.

A World Turned Upside Down by @scrapmom2112

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends since high school. Kurt has been in love with Blaine since they met. Blaine is oblivious. What happens to their relationship when Blaine drops a bombshell…he’s engaged.

Best Friends Forever by Anonymous

Fill for a prompt in the Glee Prompt Meme. Kurt and Mike are best friends and boyfriends. They decide that the boyfriend part just isn’t working out. At Kurt’s insistence, Mike and Tina start dating. Kurt and Blaine insist they are just friends, but after a bit of prodding from Mike and Tina, Kurt and Blaine start dating, too.

Blind Dates and Other Misunderstandings by @sunshineoptimismandangels

Kurt and Blaine’s parents were all friends in college and ever since Kurt and Blaine came out they’ve been trying to push them to get together because they just really want to be in-laws.

Bracketed by Kisses by reremouse

Kurt accepts that Blaine is an incurable flirt and is determined to be mature about it. And when being mature means saving his best friend from himself, Kurt’s prepared to go once more unto the breach.

Breaking Point by @silverdragon87

Kurt’s tired of waiting around for Blaine to grow a pair and decides to go out and get some action of his own, problem is, he keeps doing it in front of Blaine and Blaine only has so much will power.

Butterfly Wings by @hkvoyage

A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU.

coffee’s nice but do you mind if I love you by @rospeaks

Blaine likes his coffee with two shots of espresso and a heavy dose of romance.

Come a Little Closer by Bmart57 (Trigger Warning: Rape, Suicide)

Life is made up of moments. Any single moment could change the course of your life forever. Kurt doesn’t know it, but when Finn stops him from going to Dalton to spy on the Warblers, that was a defining moment for his life. Almost three years later, Kurt meets Blaine in class at NYADA. It seems like they’ve finally found each other, but the scars high school left on them may be a chasm to large to overcome.

Crazy Boys in Love by parsnips (trifles)

In which Blaine is an emotionally stunted idiot, and Kurt finally notices.

Crossing the Line by BregoArodShadowfax

Written for a GKM prompt. Blaine and Kurt meet in college when they share a dorm room together. Both of them are hiding their sexuality, but since neither is getting any action elsewhere, they enter into a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. Eventually it goes a little too far to be just ‘bros helping bros’ and the truth has to come out. Klaine.

Emotional Advice - $2 by @lady-divine-writes

Waiting for his Saturday connection with a lot on his head, Blaine gets some advice from a sage young man on the subway platform.

Fearlessly… and Forever by @antarcticbird

Sometimes it’s so easy, you don’t even realize what is happening until it has already happened.

feliz navidad by @villiageidiot

Blaine Anderson meets his best friend when he’s in Kindergarten. He doesn’t know it yet but it’s also when he meets the love of his life.

Fireflies and Fairy Lights by @princehummel

The Andersons, when Blaine is seven, decide to take a family trip to an isolated campground for a change of scenery, too used to living near the bustling city of Columbus. It’s the third week of July and they’re far from the only family there. While Blaine enjoys all the company, he fixates on one person in particular.

Hand Holding by @hazelandglasz

My ipod randomly played Chris Colfer’s version of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” and my brain started running like a hamster in a wheel …

he loves me (not) by @klaineanummel

Kurt was already starting to suspect that writing Blaine an anonymous love note was the stupidest idea he’d ever had. Add in Blaine walking in on him while he was writing it and, well. You get a perfect storm.

In A Car With A Beautiful Boy by @little-escapist

Blaine is always willing to help out someone in need. When Kurt Hummel, a person he’s never met before, asks for a carpooling arrangement in the company intra from his neighborhood, Blaine agrees instantly.

If he only knew how one innocent helpful act is going to change his life.

Love Is The End by @heartsmadeofbooks

After the unthinkable happens on his wedding day, Kurt Hummel has to learn how to navigate life after heartbreak. But he is not alone – his best friend, Blaine Anderson, is there to take him on a journey back to happiness and love.

My First Will Be My Last by @sir-pyllero

Kurt and Blaine were best friends through high school, best friends when Kurt moved to New York and they are still best friends when Blaine moves in with him. Apart from a few friendly kisses, things have stayed platonic between them. Until Kurt comes home one day, asks a question that turns to actions that turns to feelings that may or may not have always been there.

Rumour Has It by @chrisspiration

When Kurt has a one night stand and literally runs into someone while doing the walk of shame, the attractive stranger decides to help him out. This is the story of how Kurt and Blaine meet, become friends, and get together.

Secret Urges by @kookaburrito

Fill for the Glee Kink Meme. A fic about Dalton roommates Kurt and Blaine (starting as acquaintances but progressing through friendship to eventual relationship) who keep inadvertently walking in on each other masturbating, then a time or two when the “discovery” is intentional. Their reactions reflect the current state of their relationship, following canon timeline.

Sometimes It’s Just That Easy by @mailroomorder

He doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow Kurt ends up on the opposite side of the country for college. While there he runs into Blaine, who’s fun and happy and never around and always busy. But the closer Kurt gets to Blaine the more he likes him. He just so happens to be lucky enough that Blaine likes him back.

Stay with Me by @scatter-the-stars

Blaine has found the ideal apartment. There’s two problems. One, he needs a roommate to help with the rent. Two, only married couples can live in the building. The last thing he expects is for Kurt to step in and help him. It turns out living with Kurt helps him realize feelings he didn’t know he had. And sleeping with him doesn’t make things better.

The Wedding Singer by JonasGeek

Blaine Anderson, a wedding singer, and Kurt, a waiter, are both engaged, but to the wrong people. Life takes a few twists and turns, and helps them discover each other.

Wandering Around Back To You by @munchkinpandas24

From strangers to floormates to best friends, to roommates, to the closest two people can be. This is the story of two boys who found each other and never let go.

We’ll All Float On by @klemonademouth

“We can’t help it, you two are entertaining. It’s like watching reality TV, but far more intelligent and with more sexual repression.” Wes was cradling a tub of popcorn. “Or a documentary on the mating rituals or lack thereof of gay teenagers.” Klaine.

You Got Me Singing in the Shower by @caramelcoffeeaddict

Kurt Hummel hated the communal bathrooms in his dorm. That is…until he met Blaine Anderson there.

#klaine fanfiction #friends to lovers #fic finder #klaine #glee fanfiction

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quarterfromcanon · 6 years

Text

How Long Do You Plan to Keep Me at the Back of Your Mind?

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 21 - Basic [2,442 words]

“Hello, ladies, and welcome to the trial run of Hallmark & Hummus.” Rebecca splayed her fingers. She waggled them as if the name were appearing in lights. “On this very special evening, we will be enjoying some unarguably bland dip only made interesting with other foods. Whatever film is selected by our vote will be much the same: devoid of flavor until the added ingredients -- us, in this case, the added ingredients are us -- come along to spice things up.”

Valencia offered a strained but well-intentioned smile. She turned to the right and consulted with Heather. “Translation, please?”

Heather’s beleaguered sigh preceded the reply. “She wants to watch sappy made-for-TV movies and eat tortilla chips while we talk about them.”

“Ohhhhh,” the rest of the group chorused.

“I wanna take this opportunity to just apologize to everyone,” Heather told them, ignoring Rebecca’s background indignation. “The theme tonight is my fault and I am already so sorry.”

“How’d that happen?” Paula draped her arms over the sides of her chair.

“We were kicking around viewing options for Girls’ Night earlier this week and everything totally snowballed outta control. I was trying to steer her away from them by pointing out that they’re usually a little boring and unoriginal... which, like, ‘a little’ was being generous, honestly... and she just really latched onto the metaphor.” Heather folded her arms and shot Rebecca a ‘Why are you like this?’ look.

Rebecca tried to mirror the stance but ultimately just stuck out her tongue. “I still think we can make it fun. Plus, your cleverness sparked the creative spin! You should be owning this with pride! You were my muse.”

Heather wrinkled her nose. “I accept full responsibility for the apt comparison but not its application.”

“Compromise met.” Rebecca clapped her hands into a clasp. “Now, before we get into any of that, the first order of business is to greet our special guest. Thank you for joining us tonight, Beth. Welcome.”

Beth was clearly not expecting an individual shout-out like that. Still, she leaned forward to acknowledge them all with a salutatory wave before settling back against the couch. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Heather readjusted on her respective cushion. She pulled one leg up to her chest and locked both arms around the kneecap.

“Okay, so, drinks are in the fridge,” Rebecca continued the hostess explanations. “There’s wine, juice, water, beer, et cetera. I originally floated the idea that we take shots of Hennessy for every glaring instance of sexism to keep going with our letter ‘H,’ but Heather did actually talk me out of that one because we would all die of alcohol poisoning.”

She gathered a tall stack of borrowed cases in her arms, each labeled with a barcode from the local library. “I grabbed all the ones I could find. Their collection was unexpectedly extensive, so let’s see if we can start the process of elimination.”

“Nothing with a cover that looks like pretty white characters are gonna fall in love or die at Christmastime,” Heather declared.

Rebecca pouted and removed six boxes from the tower. “That’s practically their entire yuletide catalog - heh, yule log, that was unintentional - but fair enough. It does whittle the options down by a significant margin.”

“No movies with sequels,” Valencia suggested. “The last thing we need is to get stuck with these people for more than one.”

“And none with punny titles,” Paula added.

“Why not?” Rebecca countered.

“Check how many that eliminates and you’ll see.” Paula assembled a plate while she waited.

“Oh wow, you guys are going after their whole brand,” Rebecca muttered as she continued to weed out entertainment that matched the criteria. “Hallmark came out to have a good time and is honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

“What does that leave?” Beth peered at the titles one by one when they passed through her acquaintance’s hands.

Rebecca held up a single DVD. “Something called The Love Letter.”

“Hang on a sec.” Valencia’s brow furrowed. “Can I see that?”

Rebecca passed her the box. Valencia tapped the name in the bottom corner. “I knew it! That’s Jennifer Jason Leigh.”

Beth chuckled. She rubbed her palm along her girlfriend’s spine.

Valencia peeked to the left self-consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. I just think it’s cute you followed the career of an actress with a big gay fan following before you even figured things out.” Beth kissed Valencia on the cheek.

Rebecca joined in the affectionate laughter. “Adorably oblivious.”

Heather popped the lid off her beer and drank.

Paula tucked a diced piece of pepper into the side of her mouth and lifted her own bottle. “Let’s get this party started.”

She tapped the alcohol against her friend’s serving. Just for a moment, Heather thought she saw a flicker of sympathy in Paula’s eyes.

They all settled more comfortably while Rebecca turned out a couple of the lights and readied the selection. Rebecca stretched across the chaise lounge. She pointed the remote control toward the censor. “Drum roll... play!”

Within the first sixty seconds, a store owner made a comment about women dragging their boyfriends into the building to look at a white dress in the window. Valencia and Rebecca automatically flipped their middle fingers at the screen.

“Damn,” Valencia commented just shy of the seven minute mark. “She likes some imaginary pen pal better than the guy who just proposed to her. Are we sure she’s not a closeted lesbian in this, too? Fixating on an unrealistic man-of-her-dreams seems like a handy excuse.”

“You would know,” Paula teased with a smirk. She sipped more of her drink.

Valencia arched an eyebrow but inclined her head. “Touché.”

“Ooo, it’s near Salem!” Rebecca enthused. “Witches?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Dude, again, late ’90s Hallmark,” Heather reminded her. “They aren’t gonna throw us a lot of surprises. Also, wrong time period.”

“If Hocus Pocus taught us nothing else, it’s that they don’t have to be bound to their own era. Spooky shit happens,” Rebecca reasoned.

Heather shook her head and laughed quietly.

The female lead was finally introduced. Valencia and Beth exchanged knowing glances when her first onscreen act was writing a poem for a flower consistently referred to with “she” and “her” pronouns. ‘Gay,’ they both mouthed.

Half an hour into the run time, Beth whispered, “So, is this basically The Lake House with a more cockblocking year gap?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Heather confirmed. “This one’s just eight years older.”

“Good to know.” Beth smiled with genuine appreciation for the trivia.

Heather felt a twist of guilt that her first internal response was ‘ugh.’ Then the story randomly included a scene involving kitchen spices and she choked on a scoop of hummus.

“Are you okay?” Valencia murmured.

“Yeah, just went down the wrong way,” Heather managed to reply.

A strange reaction crossed Valencia’s features but she periodically hovered a concerned hand over her friend’s back until ten minutes later.

“It must be true love if you get turned on by air touches, amirite?” Rebecca joked. Heather and Valencia froze before they realized she spoke in reference to the film. They scooted to opposite ends of their couch space.

Beth’s fingers interwove with Valencia’s when the movie’s ill-treated fiancée got to confront her betrothed’s emotional infidelity. Heather’s eyes found the ceiling as she tried not to notice.

The end credits rolled. Rebecca wiped away a few tears. She tucked both legs beneath her body as she faced the other women in the room. “So, what did you guys think?”

“I really liked that checkered dress. Oh, and the giant cloak when she left for Gettysburg!” Paula stayed seated but pantomimed donning the aforementioned clothing while sweeping away in a hurry. “I mean, c’mon, can you really call it a dramatic exit without some kind of cape to swish behind you? It’s the only way to go.”

“Right? So pretty. So stylish. And when they got into the rowboat and she read her poetry to him?” Rebecca pouted and held her hands over her heart. “I loved that.”

“He was kind of an asshole, though,” Valencia concluded. “Waffling between them both like they were equally viable options. Pick a path and stick to it. And for the love of God, invest in wax or a razor.”

“That’s a justifiable point,” Rebecca acknowledged. “I’m a big advocate of a person having as much or as little body hair as they see fit so, you know, more power to him. But, practically speaking, that stuff is gonna scratch your tits to hell when you’re pounding it out together. R.I.P. reincarnated lady’s boobs.”

Heather and Paula concurred with empathetic nods.

“I’m not super into the reincarnation angle itself, though,” Heather decided. “They had a few set traits because of the whole same-internal-essence thing, but Caleb and Scotty were still different guys living different lives, y’know?”

“They did each have their own vibe,” Paula concurred. “The two were very similar but not identical. Close, but no cigar.”

“Exactly! And I think they knew people weren’t gonna be as into modern JJL after ninety minutes with Civil War her. That’s why her name went from Elizabeth to Beth so it’s like, ‘Oh, don’t worry. It’s cool for us to just end the movie now because she’s literally the same,’ but she’s not. She wasn’t there for any of it. Beth doesn’t share all the history and she doesn’t know everything that happened before she came into the picture. It’s like, dude, she’s a separate person and eventually you’re gonna have to explain everything. I guess go ahead and get attached to someone who’s superficially a match, but it doesn’t make her your soulmate.”

Heather finished her rant and stared down at the empty bottle in her hands. She could feel Valencia tense beside her but neither risked eye contact.

Heavy fabric pelted against the top of Heather’s head and fell to the floor.

“What the...”

She looked up to realize Rebecca had chucked a throw pillow at her.

“Start believing in romance, you cynic! Stop deflating love bubbles with your logic!” Rebecca reached for another to lob, but Heather held her hands aloft.

“Yeah, there’s an open container of salsa literally two feet away from me, so I’m thinking we should call for an armistice.” Heather forced her expression into a semblance of contrition. “No more mood-killing. But also no more furniture attacks. Deal?”

“I can agree to those terms.” Rebecca let the second pillow fall from her grip.

“Cool. I’m gonna go use the bathroom before we start whatever’s next.”

Heather departed for that location and locked the door. She splashed water on her face and met her own gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “You are acting like such a jealous douche,” Heather reprimanded herself in a low voice. “That may be the literal brand you represent, but it’s not who you are as a person. Cut the crap.”

She towel-dried her skin and sighed. Somehow, she had to come to terms with the chasm between where she used to think her life would be at this point and where things were actually headed. It wasn’t fair to Valencia to keep letting an undercurrent of bitterness guide the course of their interactions. Then there was Beth, genial and charming, who had done absolutely nothing to earn a cold shoulder. Heather frequently hashed and rehashed it all out in her mind, and she knew Beth had proven herself to be an exemplary first girlfriend. Whether the process of doing so was easy or not, she had to step aside. After all, Valencia wasn’t the only one in a new relationship. Heather had someone, too. Hector... No, she couldn’t tackle her feelings about him right now. The main thing to focus on was turning over a new leaf, and she intended to do so once she rejoined the others.

Heather left the bathroom, pivoted out of habit toward the living room, and almost ran right into Beth. She pulled to an abrupt stop. “Sorry. All yours.”

Beth hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “Thanks. Hey, I don’t now if it’s a breach of that treaty you and Rebecca have going to tell you this, but you made a pretty solid point earlier.” She cast a covert glance at the rest of the group, playfully following along with the faux tension as well as the subsequent peace. “What makes a person isn’t just what they’re starting with, but how they’re affected by things, and what they do in response to that. Like you said, it’s from their ’90s collection, and I don’t know if they were really encouraging us to look that deep, but still.” She shrugged. “V told me you’re good at reading people, and she was right.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Heather nearly crossed her arms, but instead she slipped her palms into the pockets of her vest. “I may need to call on you for backup in the event of another pro-tearjerker uprising, so, be ready with a strong argument. Rebecca loves a debate.”

Beth laughed. “You got it.”

They parted ways and Heather turned around again. Valencia was watching. She twitched her lips upward timidly. Heather flushed with remorse that things had become so difficult between them. She returned the greeting with a sincere smile. Valencia beamed and approached to talk.

“How’s movie vote number two going?” Heather asked.

Valencia looked back at their companions with loving exasperation. “We’re officially in Eeny Meeny Miny Mo territory, but Rebecca and Paula got into a discussion about whether it should be the full rhyme or just those four words. I feel like I don’t need to tell you which friend was in favor of which option.”

“It’ll be all right. Paula will wrap things up one way or another,” Heather said confidently. “My money’s on her grabbing something out of the pile and shouting ‘This is it!’ just to cut the rounds short.”

Paula’s voice suddenly projected over Rebecca’s. “Oh, look! It’s the brunette from Down with Love. A Christmas Wedding -- we have a winner!” She held the box aloft and then carried the disc to the player.

Rebecca was miffed by the interruption for only a few seconds before her shoulders rose and fell. “Works for me.”

“You called it.” Valencia nudged Heather. “You know us all too well.”

“I feel like you could probably make an educated guess what I’m thinking sometimes, too.”

“Like right now?”

“Sure, if you want.”

Valencia considered Heather with exaggerated scrutiny. “Switching from beer to wine before we start another cringey movie?”

Heather elbowed her and they both smiled. “Bingo.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #Heather's really sharing my friend's 'Oh poo. Beth's here.' reaction in this one.#I put all three women on the same couch and H+V were hashtag not happy about it. Justifiably so.#IT'S TEMPORARY ANGST #please forgiveee meeeeee

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meredith-and-lily · 6 years

Text

Chapter 1

This story starts with a floating girl, a book, and a memory. The girl and the book are in the memory, and though the battle starts much later, this is where the story starts.

Lily floated above her bed and furiously tore through the pages of her book, desperately wanting to reach the climax before dinner. As each word took hold, she was drawn further and further into the story and the world it created within her mind. She reached a particularly romantic scene and sighed as a random thought drifted across her mind. I could do that with Meredith.

This thought was startling enough to yank Lily out of her book and back into a reality where gravity decided to stop ignoring her. She crashed to the floor because she’d floated away from the bed during the last chapter. The first thing she was aware of was the book that she’d crushed under her in her flailing attempt to right herself midair. Then she became aware that her arm hurt - a lot.

Meredith dashed into the room. “I thought I heard a … are you ok?”

“Yep, totally fine,” Lily picked herself up off the floor. “I fell off the bed.”

“Fell off the bed or fell out of the air?”

Lily blushed. “The air. I was thinking something, but I can’t remember now.” She could remember perfectly well, but she did not feel inclined to share her thoughts with Meredith. “What were you doing?”

“Gardening,” Meredith was in charge of the Academy’s garden. She was the only one with a green thumb and she enjoyed being surrounded by quiet foliage.

“I shall, um, let you get back to that. Unless I can join you?”

“Sure,” Meredith did not mind the intrusion upon her space. In fact, she did not consider it intrusion at all. She and Lily complemented each other, though Lily was significantly more rambunctious, and they enjoyed gardening together. Lily couldn’t tell a carrot from cauliflower, but that didn’t matter.

The two passed an hour in near silence, broken only by the bad jokes they made up and told to each other. Lily had the relatively simple task of turning over the soil, so she didn’t need assistance. The silence between them wasn’t strained. They both felt comfortable enough that they didn’t need to fill perfectly good air with meaningless chatter.

At age 15, conversations are as varied as they are simultaneously serious and ridiculous. Opinions and values develop, dilemmas emerge, and abstract concepts must be grappled with. And imagination works at full steam, forgetting that childhood has gone, creating conversations with sentences that would confuse all but the one who spoke them.

This was true of Meredith and Lily, and sometimes the ridiculous and serious topics combined, and the girls would end up discussing the concept of ‘up’ and how the significance of ideas is determined by society as a whole while pretending to be upside down and hang from the bottom of the planet.

It is a rare thing to see a friendship that works so well as theirs did. They were complements but not synonyms, and their respective flaws were annoying, but not damaging. Lily once mentioned the concept of fate, because she thought that for them to be paired so perfectly couldn’t be chance, and Meredith agreed, but only silently.

The girls grew together and helped each other through their darkest times. There was a destructive period of two months where Meredith became obsessed with the meaningless of life and the actions we take. Lily held her when she cried, and helped her move on.

When they were both 17, Meredith asked Lily out. This was two years after Lily had had her startling thought about Meredith, but neither of them remembered that day. The memory is known only to the gods now, and us. Over the years, Meredith had taught Lily how to garden, and Lily had taught Meredith how to fly. One this particular day, the two were seated on the Academy roof, letting their conversation run its course. Meredith finished her statement and looked at Lily.

“Hey.”

“This may sound strange, but would you, possibly like to go out with me?” Lily opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so it hung there for a moment as Meredith continued. “I mean, I know there’s not many places we can go, because of the curfew and all, but it could still be a date, right?” Meredith started babbling, staring at the ground below her. Lily finally returned to her senses to realize that Meredith had been talking for at least two minutes, worried that Lily would reject her.

“You know what, just forget it. I’m sorry, I never meant to, but you’ve told me you’re gay, so I thought maybe. Just, I’m sorry.” Meredith stood to leave, hiding her face. Lily jumped to her feet, almost falling off the slanted tile.

“Wait!” A million thoughts ran through her head, about how Meredith shouldn’t fly down on her own, about how she’d been dreaming about this for years, about how Meredith should’ve asked sooner. All that came out of her mouth was a strangled “yes.” She swallowed. “Meredith, I’d really like to go out with you. I … I really like you,”

Meredith had been standing on the edge of the roof, ready to fly down and presumably never show her face again. “Are you sure?” Her tone betrayed her, giving voice to the doubt she felt.

Lily didn’t think about what she did next. She just ran at Meredith and hugged her tightly, knocking her off the roof in the process. Meredith panicked for a moment, but Lily calmed the winds around them and slowed their descent.

“So um, should we kiss? That seems stereotypical though, um, unless you want to …”

Meredith blushed. “Let’s save that for when it means something.”

Lily gulped and gently lowered her and Meredith to the ground. “So … dinner?”

Meredith nodded. “Dinner,” She grabbed Lily’s hand, and they ran to the Cafe, giggling like kids.

---

Lily lied in the dark, her cheeks red from the events of the evening. By now, the sun had set and everyone was in bed, but Lily couldn’t. She could hear Meredith snuffling in the other bed, and smiled into the dark. She flipped over onto her stomach, grabbed the pillow and squealed into it. She fell asleep imagining her and Meredith together at last.

---

When Lily opened her eyes, Meredith was sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed. Her head was bent over the pages of a book, her long fiery hair hanging down.

“Morning,” she yawned. Meredith looked up and smiled.

“Morning. We’ve got an Aqua later.”

Lily nodded. An Aqua was one of the tests their teachers sprung on them randomly, to test the parts of magic related to water. The magic taught at the academy was arranged by classical magic elements; water, earth, air, fire, death, ice, nature, and destiny. Air was Lily’s strong point, which was why she could fly so well. Water was not. Lily didn’t bother to ask how Meredith knew this. She’d gotten no answer for the past few years, and had just about given up.

“Do you know anything else?”

Meredith shook her head. Meredith was a girl of few words. She wasn’t shy, she just had better things to do with her thoughts than to engage in meaningless chatter.

“Frick” Lily flopped back onto her pillows. “This’ll be great,” Lily was in fact, quite competent in aquatic magic. She was one of the strongest witches of the generation and compared to some of her peers at the Academy, was stellar at it. But her weak point was water and had been for two years.

“I have an idea,” Lily sat up again. “You’re good at Aerial magic. Why not find a way to turn the water into something closer to that?”

Lily caught her brainwave instantly. “Turn to water into vapor, and use that!” Meredith smiled in response. “When did you come up with that?” Lily’s tone was grateful and inquisitive at the same time.

“I was just thinking.”

“Well, you’re a genius. C’mon, let’s not be late.”

The girls dressed; Lily in jeans and a white blouse and Meredith in a light blue dress. Then they pounded down the hallway, racing each other to the Cafe. They burst from the doors into the overcast day, Meredith in the lead. Lily spotted a rock and used it as a springboard to leap into the air, above Meredith’s head.

“No fair!” Meredith cried. She grinned and shot into the air herself, though not as gracefully. They zipped through the air, darting around each other like dragonflies. As they approached the Cafe, Lily began her descent. Meredith continued, wind whistling around her. Suddenly, she dropped like a stone. She fell through the air, until stopping herself a few feet above the roof.

Lily looked up at her, annoyed. In her opinion, flight should be respected and used properly, not as a game.

“I hate it when you do that.”

Meredith just smiled. “You love me.”

The girls walked into the Cafe and sat down by one of the windows. The Cafe had been grown by one of the Nature witches and had light walls made of tree trunks wedged together. The windows were made in conjunction between the Terra and Pyro witches, and had bright colors dying some, making art out of others. The table Lily and Meredith sat at was a dark green plant with huge leaves for the top. Meredith twirled her fingers as they sat down, and the plant sprouted red and white spider lilies.

Riane, who’d already been in the Cafe for half an hour, was not-so-subtly waiting for them to enter so she could get all the latest news. She, Lily and Meredith were good friends, although their relationship wasn’t as close as Meredith and Lily. As soon as she saw Meredith bloom the flowers, she made a beeline to their table and sat down.

“Soooo … what’s new with you two?”

“Do you know there’s an Aqua later?” Lily diverted.

“Don’t change the subject. A little birdie told me that you finally asked Meredith out,”

“Has Carl been gossiping again? And what do you mean, finally?”

“Come on! It’s been obvious since ever! Also, no, it was Tyler,” None of the birds on the property actually had names, but it had become a running joke a couple of months ago and hadn’t died since. “So? Yes or no? Is Merily a thing?”

“I’ve already told you, I prefer Lildith, and we’ll see,” Lily and Riane continued chatting for some time. Lily gradually became aware that Meredith hadn’t said anything. She turned her body to where Meredith was staring into space. “Hey, you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Meredith’s reply was directed at the wall. Lily bit her lip.

“You sure?”

“I said, so didn’t I?” Riane looked between the two of them, suddenly confused.

“I’m going to go get some food,” She stood up awkwardly and moved a couple of tables over. As she did she glanced at them a couple of times but soon lost herself in a different conversation.

“Seriously, what’s up?”

“Well, apparently, the entire Academy expects us to date, and it’s not like you bothered to correct Riane when she assumed that you asked me out!” Meredith’s outburst wasn’t loud but drew some curious glances from nearby tables. She glanced around and lowered her voice, “Isn’t this supposed to be an us thing? Why does everyone else have to be involved?”

Lily scowled. “I get that you’re a private person, ok? But what does it matter what they think? They can think what they like. They’re not involved unless you make a deal out of it.”

Meredith snorted. “Well, isn’t this a good omen,” she remarked dryly.

“You know what, fine. You’re right, they shouldn’t care. But they do. What do you expect me to do?”

Meredith softened her expression. “I wonder how Riane even knew,” she remarked. As she spoke, she twirled her fingers and the decidedly non-citrus plant that formed their table somehow produced a few oranges. She picked the miraculous plants and tossed one across the table.

Lily snatched it out of midair and smiled. “Guess we have some fans. I suppose me knocking you off a building is pretty obvious.”

“You’ve done that in the past. Doesn't mean anything,”

“Then we shall have to ask her later. For now, do you know what time the Aqua is?”

Meredith shook her head. The girls sat in silence, munching on their oranges. Once they finished, they walked outside again. Lily tried to grab a yogurt container behind Meredith’s back, using some of the Aerial magic. Meredith didn’t turn when the breeze rustled past her, but she did address Lily as she strode out of the Cafe.

“Grab me some toast,”

Lily did so, smiling sheepishly.

“You have to be less obvious.” Lily joined Meredith outside. “Also, eat less yogurt,”

“Hey, yogurt is good,” Lily protested.

“I thought you were vegan,” Meredith raised an eyebrow.

Lily scarfed down the rest of the container and vanished it in midair, transforming it into a strawberry-scented patch of air. “No proof now,”

Meredith giggled, and started walking toward one of the fields surrounding the Academy. Once they reached the field, Lily stuck out her hand and flicked her fingers. A small fountain of water sprouted from the stalks of grass. She grimaced and increased the stream to a faster pace. Once she had a large amount hovering in the air, she cut off the water and molded the water into a large bubble.

Meredith smiled, and lifted her hand toward the water, and slowly moved her arm to the left. The water followed and Lily frowned. She reached out her other hand and jerked the water away. It shot backward and came to a screeching halt. The quick stop caused some water to detach from the main bubble, and it promptly fell onto Lily’s head.

Lily shivered and lobbed the water at Meredith. Over 100 gallons of water fell through the air, and she panicked. A bolt of fire shot out of her hand, sizzling when it met the water and creating steam. The extremely hot steam rose toward the sky and Lily looked at Meredith.

“You can’t use Pyro in an Aqua,”

“I can use it to keep from getting drenched,”

“Not fair! I’m soaking,”

“I don’t need to practice raising and lowering the temperature of water,” Meredith smiled while Lily laughed for a moment.

“Fine, you win,” Lily laughed. She scrunched up her face and concentrated for a moment. Wisps of steam rose from her shirt. After a minute or two she opened her eyes and pinched her shirt. Still wet.

“Let me try,” Meredith fixed her gaze on Lily’s chocolate colored hair. The water heated into a mass of steam which lifted Lily’s hair into the air. Lily reached up and felt her — now frizzy — hair.

“Woah. You’re good at this,”

Meredith smiled modestly.

“How are you so good at this?”

Meredith’s smile became more mysterious. “Let’s just say I’ve practiced a lot.”

“Why would you bother?” Lily asked, slowing each word as she tried to comprehend Meredith's reasoning.

“I’m focusing on changing things from solids to liquids and back,”

“Like water to ice. Combining Aqua and Cryo magic?”

“Think bigger,”

“Um, glaciers?”

“You could transform anything into air, water, and earth. Anything,” Meredith stared pointedly at Lily.

“Would that include people?”

“Would I tell you?”

At that moment, Lily’s mouth dropped open. “No!”

“Yes,”

“That’s how you get around so fast and know so much about what’s happening. You turn yourself into, I dunno, a pile of dirt or some air, and then you can just listen to people! Genius,”

“I prefer the aesthetic of mist, but you know…” Meredith stopped talking when Lily punched her in the arm.

“Oh, my gods. That’s amazing,”

“Which ones?” Meredith replied. Lily stared at her.

“Which ones what?”

“Which gods,”

“Alaz’s eyes. All of them. This is monumental! Does anyone else know you can do this?” Lily asked, an intense expression transforming her features.

“Not as of yet, unless you keep yelling,”

“Fine, fine,” Lily relented. “I’m calm. I’m cool. All’s good, but still. Wow,”

Meredith smiled goofily. “Thanks. Now, your turn,” Meredith and Lily spent the morning practicing, until Lily was proficient. By then, the sun was high in the sky and it was time for the Aqua. They and other girls at the Academy congregated at the Arena, located in a field across the Academy grounds.

The Arena was separated into different sections for each of the magic types, with a general purpose area connecting the different areas. This Aqua was only for the most advanced witches, both for students at the Academy and other members of the Authorian who were seeking to raise their status/skill level.

The Authorian kept their base in the middle of the woods. It contained the Academy for new witches to train and places for the graduated members of the Authorian to live. The Academy itself contained barracks for the girls to live, the Cafe to eat, the Arena to train, and a set of classrooms to learn about Ermia, the world they lived in.

The schedule of the Academy was separated by weeks and repeated monthly. The first week was used for training and classes for the different types of magic. Then the second week was focused on fitness and combat. The girls learned self-defense and how to use a number of weapons, training them to be fit enough to fight or run if necessary. The third week centered around book studies, in subjects such as magical lore, history, and studying the different species that lived on Ermia. The remaining days of the month were used for testing the girls on what they’d learned and assessing their current skill levels. The girls were also expected to practice during the off weeks in each subject to keep their skills.

Out of the three subjects, Riane was the athletic one, Meredith the bookish one, and Lily was undoubtedly the best at Magic. Riane normally wouldn’t be at this Aqua because she wasn’t at the level of skill as Meredith and Lily. However, she’d recently shot ahead in her Aqua magic and was able to join them.

There were about ten people waiting to be tested in total. Four were part of the Academy and three older witches. All seven were wearing blue robes, indicating they’d focused their power on perfecting their Aqua magic. Riane, Lily, and Meredith were wearing the Magenta robes showing that they hadn’t chosen a focus yet.

That interesting fact was what made the three so powerful. They had about equal aptitude in each type of Magic, while all the other witches at their skill level were equals in that area but much lower in others.

In an Aqua, the participants would enter the water area of the area to test, with their peers waiting outside. While waiting, the witches were not allowed to practice so as to not interrupt the test. Lily couldn’t prepare, so she used this opportunity to ask Riane some questions. She grabbed Riane’s attention and they started chatting.

“Hey! Congrats on making it to the final Aqua,” This level of Aqua was the last one, and upon completion resulted in an Aqua Gold qualification. All the witches trying for Aqua Gold today already had earned Aqua Silver, an admirable rating itself. It usually took a while to pass each test, and make it to the next test. Meredith had been trying for Aqua Gold for a few months, and Lily for almost a year.

“Thanks,” Riane replied. “Who knows, maybe I’ll become an Aqua witch,”

“I think that’d suit you. But, more seriously, how’d you know Meredith asked me out?”

Riane pointedly started at a tree to Lily’s left and went mute. Her expression was unreadable, much to Lily’s chagrin.

“Seriously. How’d you know?”

Meredith was staring at the ground now. Lily didn’t notice.

“Were you spying on us? I’m not kidding, how’d you find out?” Her tone was aggravated, but Riane wasn’t budging. The air was tense for several seconds until Meredith broke it.

“I asked her for advice on how I should do it,” Lily looked at Meredith, and deflated.

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry, Riane,”

“It’s fine.” Riane smiled. “I just didn’t want to rat out Meredith. You’re good,”

Lily stood there awkwardly. Then the girls all flinched when a voice called out.

“Riane Yaney?” The administrator, an Aqua Gold named Zara directed her to the test.

Lily and Meredith were left standing there.

“I hope she does okay,”

“She will,” Meredith agreed. “She’s done Gold tests before. She’s a Pyro Silver, remember?”

“Yeah. So, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. You?”

“Gods, I hope so,” Lily took a deep breath. “I’m so done with this test. It’s been forever,”

“You were so fast moving through all the other tests. And you have a Gold in like everything else.”

“Except Eco. You wouldn’t happen to know when the next Eco is?”

“Sometime this week, but aside from that, I’ve got no idea. So you’ve got like 4 days to prepare,” Weeks were 5 days long on Ermia, and months were anywhere from 18 to 26 days long. This resulted in irregular schedules, but the number of days in each month corresponded to the god that that month was for, so it couldn’t be changed.

“I’ll do well there. I’m so close! And you are too!”

“I need Aqua, Cryo, and Destiny. Then I’ll be Gold all round,”

“You have those in the bag. Oh, gods. I’m nervous.” Lily opened her mouth to say something else, but Zara called out again.

“Meredith Wurtin?”

“Good luck!” Lily shot a thumbs up at Meredith as she walked away. They wouldn’t see each other until after Lily tested, so they’d all learn their results at the same time. She took a few deep breaths and waited as the area gradually emptied. She was the last one left, and she could feel her heart rate increasing as Zara called.

“Lily Pangin?”

Lily walked toward her, trying to contain her nerves.

“Maybe this’ll be it, huh?”

“Hopefully,” Lily replied. She entered the water area and took stock. It was a patch of dirt and nothing else. In the lower levels, they’d have ponds to work with, but here there was nothing. In the Gold Aqua, each of the witches had to extract as much water as possible from the ground, and control it as well as possible, performing tasks as directed by the administrator. In this case, Zara.

This time, Lily didn’t wait for Zara’s instructions and simply raised her hands to the sky. All the water contained within the dirt flew up into the air in tiny streams creating what could only be described as an inverse bubble the size of a house. This was normal for Lily, but this time, she cooled the air around the bubble, adding to its size. It grew so that it was larger than a barn.

Lily shifted her hands so the water formed a flat disc, then a thin cylinder sticking into the sky, and finally a perfect square.

Zara raised her eyebrow. “Can you hollow it?” Lily gradually shifted the water from the center to the outside of the bubble, forming another sphere. “Rain?”

Lily let drops of water fall, bit by bit. This was her hardest trick. Usually, she’d drop too much water, get flustered, and drop it all. She focused all her energy on keeping the swirling mass in the air. She didn’t notice when Zara told her to stop until Zara tapped her on the shoulder.

“Good. Can you make it a wave and lift yourself up?”

Lily moved the water over her head, creating an impressive waterfall that scooped her up and shot her into the air. For a brief moment, she lost control. She gritted her teeth and regained power over the water. She balanced on a column of water that sloshed around Zara’s feet and looked down.

“Shoot the targets!” Zara yelled up, and pointed at some trees that’d been painted yellow. The paint was special in that the more waterlogged it got, the darker the color. This exercise would’ve been easy for Lily, but she was unused to the volume of water she was dealing with. Her first shot splashed the tree she was aiming for but also the two next to it, and she dropped two feet as her support disappeared.

Her next blast was more controlled, but she was still unprepared for the drop, this time closer to 5 feet as the tree turned jet black immediately.

“Keep going!” Zara encouraged.

Lily yelled and shot each of the remaining trees perfectly until the final tree was dark as night. She tried to lower herself down to ground level, but in one terrifying, heart-stopping moment the water finally rebelled against her and she fell the remaining distance to the ground. She hit the water and the world went black.

#meredith-and-lily blog #meredith and lily #chapter 1 #canon

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snazzysterek · 7 years

Text

Bro Kiss

okay so I did it!!! @billy-jimwilco This was literally a blast to write. Everyone else prompts are on the list this one just gave me the most inspiration and that's how I rank my lists I do get to all of them eventually. Also, I am sorry to the person who sent me that one ABO prompt months ago I just saw it in my ask box omg I am the worst I AM WORKING ON IT!!! You will be the next I work on cuz it has been so long I am so so sorry.

But yeah This was super fun to write and Stiles is so oblivious I love it.

Based on this post

Enjoy!

Okay, Stiles knew he was oblivious but he didn't know he could be this oblivious. It was absolutely crazy how oblivious he was, Stiles was baffled. Completely baffled. Looking back, Stiles could see how utterly stupid he had been. Maybe you would understand if you knew how utterly stupid he had been.

So, it had started on Tinder, of all places. Now, Stiles didn’t use Tinder for its conventional purposes, he mostly used it to find people he knew or to get validation as he randomly swiped. He never actually met with people on Tinder - ever. One day, when he was swiping, he happened across Jackson Whitmore from High School. Stiles was so surprised he swiped right without even thinking about it. He kind of wanted to know what Jackson was doing in DC, and there was no harm in swiping for him. He wasn't even sure if Jackson would swipe right back.

A few days later Stiles got a notification that Jackson messaged him. Stiles obviously responded, mostly out of curiosity because Stiles was pretty sure Jackson still hated him. To Stiles’ complete surprise they talked and actually got along really well. The old crush which Stiles had, had on Jackson that he hid, through most of his childhood by projecting it onto Lydia. At first, it was because Stiles was scared of everyone finding out he liked boys, but then it was just that he liked Jackson who hated him at that point. After Jackson moved away was when he actually came out as gay. People were pretty taken aback by his ‘love’ for Lydia was so blatant, but Stiles had just brushed it off as his way of hiding the fact he was gay. Many still didn’t believe him, but he was able to get his first boyfriend anyway.

So he and Jackson kept talking.They talked for weeks before planning to meet up. Stiles thought it would be fun hanging out with Jackson but finally as friends and not those weird team bonding hangouts that happened in high school or the stuff during the kanima. Stiles was also a little bit more excited to be hanging out with his crush, but he promised himself he would keep his cool. Well, at least in front of Jackson.He had not kept his cool while texting Scott at all (Who had finally found out the real reason he pretended to have a crush on Lydia and thought it was hilarious and never let him live it down).

They had first planned to go for coffee over the weekend, but Stiles had canceled last minute under the guise of an emergency at work. Jackson had surprisingly been understanding. Jackson even messaged him a few days later to see if he wanted to hang out, and of course, Stiles then jumped on that train as quick as he could.

Now here Stiles was in front of Jackson's apartment, trying to draw up the courage to buz. After a few minutes, he eventually mustered up the courage to press the damn button. The torcherous seconds where Stiles was waiting for Jackson to buzz him up were the worst of his life. Jackson had told him over the speaker to wait for him in the lobby Waiting there felt like Stiles was waiting to go to the gallows. He wasn't sure why he was so tense, but then again, it was Jackson.

Jackson was obviously gorgeous when he came into view and Stiles slightly regretted how homeless he looked compared to Jackson, but quickly shook that thought out of his head because they were just two bros hanging out.

“Hey Stiles,” Jackson said, “You wanna come up and maybe watch a movie?”

Jackson seemed a little nervous, which didn't really makes sense to Stiles because he had never seen Jackson nervous before.

“Yeah, if that's okay with your wolf to have me in your ‘den’?” Stiles questioned.

“Yeah, no, it's fine,” Jackson answered quelling some of Stiles worries

Stiles just nodded and followed Jackson up to the apartment. It was kind of awkward once they entered. They both stood silently in the entryway, staring at each other. Stiles chuckled awkwardly and then kind of fell into a fit of giggles, which made Jackson start laughing along.

“We are so awkward. I feel like it shouldn’t be this awkward, dude. Like I've seen you naked multiple times, and we basically grew up together. Also, we already had more arguments than most old married couples, so I feel like we should not be this awkward... right?” Stiles rambled.

Jackson chuckled, “You’re right. Do you want to go watch a movie?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun, man,” Stiles agreed following Jackson into his living room.

They sat on the couch. Stiles thought it was a little closer than bros usually do, but Jackson was also a wolf and they didn't know what personal space was, so it didn't phase him one bit. Stiles actually scootched a bit closer. He missed pack, so sue him if he wanted to get some cuddles in. Also, Jackson was hot and Stiles wanted to get all up on that, even if Jackson felt totally platonic towards him.

They basically watched movies all afternoon and Stiles loved it. He felt like he actually got to get to know Jackson outside of everything from their past. They were able to talk and be real with each other. Stiles loved it! When the sun had actually started to set Jackson had suggested dinner. Stiles was all for it. Jackson had even suggested a diner that Stiles hadn’t tried yet, and Stiles loves a good Diner. Before they left the apartment, Jackson drew him in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Stiles just rolled with it, assuming bro kisses were a thing now. Jackson did look weirdly pleased, but Stiles didn’t focus too hard on it.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, they sat on the same side of a booth, which again Stiles thought was weird but didn't focus too much on it. They sat with menus for a while, and Stiles just could not figure out what he wanted. Everything just looked so good.

“See anything you like?” Jackson asked

“Ugh I don't really know, I am down with whatever really,” Stiles responded.

Jackson gave him the dryest look on the planet, “Please do not be like this, this is why I don't date girls anymore.”

Stiles stopped suddenly, frozen, he slowly turned to Jackson, “Wait this is a date?”

“Stiles, seriously? We met on fucking Tinder of all places. Then we cuddled on my couch as we watched a movie, and now I am taking you to a Diner I would never step foot in without you. I even let you into my den Stiles? How could you think this wasn’t a date?” Jackson asked, completely confused.

Stiles looked down on his lap, embarrassed, his face completely red, “Well it sounds stupid when you say it like that. I just didn't think you would be interested in me like that, you never were. Also, didn’t even know you liked men, so how was I supposed to know. If I had known it was a date I would have tried harder to not look homeless.”

Jackson chuckled quietly, “Hey look at me?”

Stiles looked up and was pleasantly surprised at the fond look that was plastered on Jackson's face. It was something he had never seen on Jackson's face ever.

“Your really dumb but your lucky I like your dumb. Also I think it's fucking adorable that you somehow thought that kiss was platonic,” Jackson spoke and the fondness on his face leaking into his voice.

“I thought it was a bro kiss!” Stiles exclaimed, a little offended.

“Stiles if you and Scott bro kiss I am walking out that door right now,” Jackson said and he sounded like he was half serious.

Stiles scoffed, “No we don't bro kiss. I just thought that might have been something you picked up in Europe! How was I supposed to know?”

“Your an idiot.” Jackson spoke as he leaned in closer to Stiles, “ Now just to be clear this isn’t a bro kiss.”

And with that being said Stiles had the best not bro kiss in his life ever.

#Stackson #prompt #this was litterally the cutest #oblivious stiles #getting together #met online #for the second time #tw #tw prompts #my fic #snazzysterek writes

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hawkmamaknows-blog · 7 years

Text

SIN WEEK DAY 1

HAWK MAMA BACK HAWK MAMA SEE SIN WEEK WHY USE HAWK MAMA PICTURE HAWK MAMA IS COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT HAWK MAMA SEE YOU IN COURT

The birds were chirping, the sun was shining and the sky was clear and the day was great. Meliodas was happy. He chugged his drink and burped loudly. He finally had the life that he wanted. Which was really saying something, seeing how just a couple weeks ago he was trying to conquer the world, kill tons of peoples and destroy his enemies. But to be fair they were trying to kill him. Retirement was doing wonders for his spirit now though. He already finished his community service and everything.

After defeating the Demon King and locking him in a chest that they then hurled into space, and then killing the goddesses and breaking the curse and saving Camelot and seeing Arthur made king and saying sorry to the four million humans they had displaced and reconciling with his brothers and got those loan sharks off his ass and finally getting rid of that rash, he now ran the Boar Hat as a normal, everyday bar owner.

Even better, he had finally married Elizabeth. His eyes glazed over with just the thought— as he brought his pumpkin spice latte to his lips to slurp loudly. He started whistling a merry tune as he reminiscing.

His light, his goddess, the thing that had given him a boner for three thousand years was finally his. Oh was she his. Her eight children were old enough to go to school, so the first opportunity he got he had them sent off to Little Knights Boarding School and Academy so they could have plenty of alone time.

He sighed happily, as he looked across the bar, thinking back—-

FLASH BACK ONE

She was upside down, hanging from the chandelier, hogtied with one of her stockings. The sounds of the whip slapping against her skin was arousing.

“Yes, yes, yes! I love this!” Elizabeth yelled, wiggling her butt and sucking on her own toes as he struck her bouncy chest over and over. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?!” She moaned loudly as her bouncy bosom bounced.

Meliodas moaned, his own bar uniform soaked through with body fluids, pumpkin juice and escargot- the rubber chicken in his mouth squeaking loudly as he swung his arm back and forth. His own dick was tied with a really cute bow as he helicoptered it in front of her face. He stood on top of the shaky stoop so he could actually reach his honey boo bear as she swung around like a slab of meat on a hanger.

THE FLASHBACK ENDS

Meliodas gave a low moan as he rubbed the front of his pants. He really did love her. “Ah… Elizabeth,” And she loved him, so much he was pretty sure he hadn’t stopped smiling since his wedding night. Which was actually agonizing as the muscles in his face cramped up.

Unfortunately, that alone time led to Elizabeth getting pregnant again about four days later. Four amazing days. He jizzed so much in those ninety six hours they even had to scrub the outside of the bar during clean up. But he was happy enough because this one he was one hundred percent sure was one hundred percent his.

Well, Meliodas put his cup down on the bar counter, as he thought. He was pretty sure this was one hundred percent his. He checked after all.

FLASHBACK

“Hey snookums?”

“What it is?” Elizabeth looked down at him, her eyes narrowed as she continued to impale him with the large love rod that was strapped around her waist. She had him half over the bar on his stomach, one leg raised onto his back, to push him snug against the bar. She looked really good in his fuck wad brother-Estrossa’s cloak.

“You’re—“ Meliodas squeaked as she pegged him deeper, harder and hitting a spot over and over that made his eyes roll. His toes curling. “You’re… really good at this? Have you— done this before?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth whispered sweetly, petting the top of his head, before suddenly going faster. “It doesn’t count if I’m not gay. Now be a good princess, and say my name in French.”

END OF FLASHBACK

Yes, good memories.

And today was a good day too. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and Meliodas was happily wiping down the counter of the bar and admiring his lady love, who was huge. But in a good way. Her hips and long limbs extra nice. Her stomach was protruding with her heavy pregnancy, and she happily hummed to herself while folding napkins and stacking them on her giant belly as she leaned back on the couch they put by the stove.

“Elizabeth?” he spoke up, asking. “Are you sure there’s only one kid in there?” Cause, if he had to be honest, everyone was too terrified to think of the alternative. Howzer still randomly burst into tears and whispered about nail polish at the sight of her.

“Of course,” she laughed, making kissy sounds at him that he made back. “I’ve only been with you. Just one man, one baby.”

“I’m not sure that that’s how it works,” he muttered under his breath, and she must have him heard him because she sighed, delicately putting down the last little towel. “Don’t worry, if anything, maybe having that sixsome with you and you and you and you, with you doing you while I clung onto you as you pushed you between you and me- was taking a little bit of a chance,” she sighs with longing, looking at him with mushy gooey love, “but, it was my hall pass day that day. So stop worrying, even if your clones got me pregnant too, it’s still technically you.”

“Well if you’re sure,” he went to take another chug of pumpkin flavored vodka, when at that moment the front door slammed open.

“BITCHES!” Merlin sauntered into the room, again in her grown up body and down the steps, her scream alerting everyone in the general fifty meter radius. She quickly threw a treat into Elizabeth mouth and pat her on the head as she walked by.

When she got to the table she chucked her large chest onto it, the weight making the entire thing shake. “Wait until you see what I’ve found!”

Meliodas rolled his eyes. “Can you get your tits off the table first?”

“Sorry!” Quickly Merlin removed her breasts, before she placed a smaller box on the table in its place, the thing covered in dust and weird stuff.

“And that,” he said, pointing at her beaver. “In fact, would you put some clothes on and get rid of it?”

“Fiiiine.” With snap of her fingers Merlin was instantly dressed, her clothes barely covering her but at least the important bits were covered. And she kick punted her newest experiment on a beaver out the door. “Here’s what I really wanted to show you.”

Reaching into her cleavage, she proceeded to pull out a greying, battered looking scroll, tugging and tugging until the whole thing came out, around the length of half the room. “I found this ancient scroll in among some things I got at a yard sale, they were cleaning out all the houses from the humans that either got turned into demons, died were brainwashed or were eaten and it has some prophecies on it that I think are about the Seven Deadly Sins!”

“Really?” He headed around the counter and stood next to Elizabeth as she bounced him across the room and to Merlin side with her incredible girth. “We should get the others and--”

“HEY EVERYBODY GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” shouted Elizabeth making blood burst from the side of Merlin’s and Meliodas head.

Meliodas winced. “What in the hell?”

Elizabeth smiled sweetly. “When you have seven children, you learn to yell loud.”

FLASHBACK TRES

“Hon hon,” French Meliodas squealed as he tickled a naked Elizabeth, rubbing his cheek against her gooey skin. The princess was tied spread-eagled to the roof of the Boar Hat, and Meliodas watched from his perch on the top of the chimney as his clones went to work. Each had a peacock feather of a different size, and they strokes every inch of her as she writhed in her restraints.

“Meliodas, please!” she cried, her hips bucking up and down. At once all of the clones started covering her with chocolate sauce as they finally pulled out their cocks after three hours of foreplay and impromptu Shakespeare’s acting that left them in tears, and Meliodas sighed happily at the sight.

Only to be forcefully thrown from his perch, as Elizabeth suddenly screamed,“THIS IS DISGUSTING!”

And the force of her screaming orgasm blew all four Meliodases off of the roof with him.

FIN DU FLASHBACK

Frowning he said, “I thought you had eight?”

“Seven, eight, I think we sent eleven to school.”

“Wait? How did we sent— we don’t even—?” But before he could figure out the answer at that moment all of the Sins arrived. Diane’s head burst through the window with King attached to her ear, Escanor jumped down from the rafters light a demented old man monkey, Gowther opened a panel in the floor and stepped up, politely handing a fresh pumpkin bread loaf to Ban, who had rolled out from under another table, and stood up, and took a chair already eating a slice.

“Were you all already here?” Meliodas asked. “I thought we agreed you were all gonna go get your own apartments?”

“We did!” Escanor said cheerfully, pushing up his glasses. “We are all renting rooms here! We even get discounts on the ear plugs if we sign yearly mortgage contracts.”

Meliodas gaped at them until Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and explained, “With thirteen children in boarding school we needed the money.”

“Eight,” he corrected her.

“I’m glad you are all here,” Merlin announced. “I have some prophecies to read.” She held the ancient scroll up. Leaning against it like a stripper pole. “And since this is written in a language of the ancient race of beings called the Dkweknfapoies, and their language cannot be speaken by human tongue, I and I alone can decipher it.”

Hawk trotted in, chewing on something gross as he perked up. “Oh! Are you talking about the Dkweknfapoies? Because actually Hawk Mama and I are from Wefapalot and I actually got my first major in--”

“I AND I ALONE!” Merlin screeched loudly, sending out a foot to kick the hog, bouncing him off all the walls before crashing back into the kitchen, and she glared at the rest, as if daring them to argue. “There,” she went on happily, “now that that is settled, since I am the only person who understands the Dkweknfapoies language, I shall now translate it for you.”

She took out her reading glasses and put them on, making a face at the scroll. Everyone leaned in a bit to hear.

“Captain,” she said mysteriously, all the lights going out as a creepy green glow created a haunted look under her chin. “the first one is about you.”

“Me?” he exclaimed, gulping. “Cool. That’s cool. Is this like, a really really old scroll? And not one from when I was doing a stint in that one gay bar over by the river a couple millennium back, right? Cause whatever it says, they are lying and I totally did not have any sexual relations with that—“

Elizabeth took his hand, shutting him up. “Please, goddesses, let it be winning lottery numbers.”

“Here is my one thousand percent accurate translation,” she began, making scary finger movements. “‘The eldest son of the demon king’--that’s you, Captain--’is not actually the biological son of the demon king’.”

Everyone looked at Meliodas in surprise. His eyes popped open and his mouth dropped. “I’m not!” he shouted, before he pumped his fists. “HELL YAY! take that you asshole?! I’m not an awful, terrible demon! That’s great news! I’m so happy!” Everyone cheered as he jumped onto a table and did a jig. “I’m not a demon! I’m not a demon!”

“I’m so happy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pressing her hands on her huge stomach. “Now our child won’t be some terrible murderer like the rest of them!”

“Wait, if Captain isn’t a demon, what is he?” Ban asked over the cheering.

Everyone looked at Merlin, who peered back at the scroll. “Yes, yes, I see. Yes it’s right here. This one symbol, and my completely accurate and singular in every way translation is thus: ‘the eldest son of the demon king is in reality... the eldest blessed son of the blessed goddess queen’.”

The room went silent and Meliodas stopped getting jiggy, frozen in place.

The… what with the what with the actual who?

“What?” he asked in confusion, scratching his head. Absolutely confused. “I’m a goddess? The son of the goddess queen? The goddess queen?”

Merlin nods. “Yes. The goddess queen.” She didn’t notice as Hawk, covered In bruises peered over her shoulder.

“Wait guys!“ he puggoed. “That symbol in that order doesn’t mean that! It means blessed by the goddess—“

Before he could say anymore the pig hog burst into white flames, no one batting an eyelash as he squealed and rushed back to the kitchen. The frantic sounds of the sink being turned on and a giant splash cutting off the horrid screaming. But like it was said before, no one was paying attention to that— because it was really fascinating to watch Meliodas go green from head to toe.

“But….,” he croaked, Ban coming up to give him a hand to keep him up, and Meliodas whimpered, “but if I’m the son of the goddess queen… then that would make Elizabeth my-- but that would mean all the happy hankie panky…”

They slowly looked at one other in growing horror, and as the sounds of the Sins erupting into vomit surrounded them, Meliodas said, “Elizabeth is my sister.” Before he just, laid on the ground, his mind involuntarily reminding him that this was the exact spot they had tried out the bridge driver position during breakfast.

Once the vomiting ended, everyone wiped their mouths. Meliodas sat, slumped over the table, sobbing into his shirt. “All these years,” he moaned. “Three thousand goddamned years I’ve waited, and for what? To fucking fuck my fucking sister.”

“There, there,” Elizabeth offered a pat on the shoulder, swallowing behind her hand.

“Hey Merlin.” Hawk peered over her arm, sniffing at the scroll. “I’m not sure if you translated this right. It looks to me like--”

“DO NOT QUESTION THE PROPHECY!” Merlin announced. “I have read the scroll of the ancient Dkweknfapoies clan, and I am the only person who knows how to read and understand. You must all accept my translation, no matter how much it doesn’t make sense, because I am the best at this. You are just rude for even suggesting that I am incorrect. This is slander! This is bullying! This is fraud!”

A tiny whimper passed Meliodas lips, as King looked at them all unimpressed, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t see what the big deal is? You guys are only first generation inbred.” He huffed, “like we always say what happens in the family stays in the family.”

#nntsinweek #nnt #meliodas #hawkmama #hawkmamaknows #hmk #back bitches #why no hawk mama week #hawk mama want week #hawk mama demands week #give hawk mama week or hawk mama write more

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poorquentyn · 7 years

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Wait a sec so Whorsebane is suppose to be an intimidating character even for somebody like Roose,I feel like I missed this. Also he's gay I feel like I missed that also. Which if he is is kinda cool that he's this intimidating gay man from a house known to be imposing and intimidating.

*rubs hands together* Yes, please, let’s take a deep dive into the characterization of Hother “Whoresbane” Umber, the smartest and most dangerous member of his clan and one of my favorite background characters in all of ASOIAF.

Does “most dangerous Umber” seem like a stretch? Don’t get me wrong, I certainly wouldn’t want Crowfood or the Greatjon mad at me, but they’re presented as jovial life-of-the-party drunks as much as badasses. There’s a wry affectionate “oh, you scamps” sort of tone to how GRRM writes the Umber men…except Whoresbane, who is framed with an ice-cold laser-focused menace about him that his kin do not possess, despite Hother being the least physically imposing of the lot. Within the Northern political community, “Old Whoresbane” has a well-established reputation as perhaps the most fearsome figure within that community, a living legend spoken of in whispers (rather than the loud-and-proud stories surrounding big brother Mors), someone with whom you simply do not fuck if you care to see another spring:

A crow had once taken Mors for dead and pecked out his eye, so he wore a chunk of dragonglass in its stead. As Old Nan told the tale, he’d grabbed the crow in his fist and bitten its head off, so they named him Crowfood. She would never tell Bran why his gaunt brother Hother was called Whoresbane.

Odd as it might seem, old Hoarfrost Umber had once believed his youngest son had the makings of a maester. Mors loved to boast about the crow who took his eye, but Hother’s tale was only told in whispers…most like because the whore he’d disemboweled had been a man.

And now the Bastard of Bolton was riding south with Hother Umber to join them for an attack on Moat Cailin. “The Whoresbane his own self,” claimed a riverman who’d just brought a load of hides and timber down the White Knife, “with three hundred spearmen and a hundred archers. Some Hornwood men have joined them, and Cerwyns too.”

“Night work is not knight’s work,” Lady Dustin said. “And Lord Wyman is not the only man who lost kin at your Red Wedding, Frey. Do you imagine Whoresbane loves you any better? If you did not hold the Greatjon, he would pull out your entrails and make you eat them, as Lady Hornwood ate her fingers.”

“Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane…the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning.”

But, I hear you protest again: more menacing than Roose Bolton? Surely not! Well, look at how Roose himself describes Whoresbane. That ellipsis speaks volumes: Whoresbane Umber is so thoroughly intimidating that Roose gods-damned Bolton, the Leech Lord, Westeros’ answer to Vlad the Impaler, is reduced to trailing off and staring into the middle distance, ultimately unable to bring himself to cite specifics.

That’s the first layer. The second layer is the implication that Whoresbane has been the brains of Last Hearth for a very, very long time. He was only at the Citadel in the first place because his father Hoarfrost (which: yes) believed he had “the makings of a maester,” which certainly bucks the Umber stereotype. After Hother came home, his status as the smartest man in the room–a Halfmaester, if you will–has held as the decades have gone by. The Greatjon is certainly not an idiot (just look at how he tests and then crowns Robb), but his grab-with-both-hands approach to life carries with it some significant blind spots, and it’s Whoresbane who rides to Winterfell to point them out:

Hother wanted ships. “There’s wildlings stealing down from the north, more than I’ve ever seen before. They cross the Bay of Seals in little boats and wash up on our shores. The crows in Eastwatch are too few to stop them, and they go to ground quick as weasels. It’s longships we need, aye, and strong men to sail them. The Greatjon took too many. Half our harvest is gone to seed for want of arms to swing the scythes.”

Contrast Hother with Mors, and the picture becomes crystal clear. Crowfood, too, is far from stupid, but he comes to Winterfell to dance with the serving girls and offer his magical grief-curing cock to Lady Hornwood. Whoresbane is the one with the numbers in his head, the one keeping track of the harvest and the wildlings, the one looking out for the smallfolk of Last Hearth. Crowfood is doing everything he can to escape his brother’s household; Whoresbane is the one the Greatjon trusted to keep the lights on and bring concerns to the Stark in Winterfell.

And yes, as that anecdote about his time in Oldtown reveals, Whoresbane is gay. (Or possibly bi, but again, Crowfood is the one who asks for Lady Hornwood’s hand and macks on the serving girls, whereas Whoresbane shows interest in neither.) For me, this is part of an overall characterization in which Whoresbane defies the public image of his House and yet somehow also turns that image up to 11. Hother Umber is a gay man in a family of aggressively straight dudes, a “gaunt” and “cadaverous” man in a family of larger-than-life giants, an intellectual in a family of jocks, and is still the most metal of them all, and everyone knows it. How can you not love that?

What really cements Whoresbane as one of my favorites, though, are the hints about what the payoff for this characterization will look like. In ADWD, Whoresbane joins Team Bolton, taking half the remaining Umber men to the Dreadfort (and from there to Moat Cailin, Barrowton, and finally Winterfell) while leaving the rest with Crowfood. As Barbrey tells us, though, there’s no pretense that he’s actually loyal to Roose and Ramsay. Indeed, in Theon’s first ADWD chapter, we see that Whoresbane is wearing armor even to dinner, and can’t stop himself from expressing disgust at Ramsay’s treatment of Theon. And then, in Theon’s released TWOW chapter, we learn a very telling detail:

“Mors took the green boys and Hother took the greybeards.”

Whoresbane didn’t just randomly select half the remaining men at Last Hearth. He specifically brought his fellow greybeards with him. And what is it that old Northmen do when the food runs short as we know it is at Last Hearth (“half our harvest is gone to seed for want of arms to swing the scythes”), when winter is no longer coming, but here?

Alys sighed. “My father took so many of our men south with him that only the women and young boys were left to bring the harvest in. Them, and the men too old or crippled to go off to war. Crops withered in the fields or were pounded into the mud by autumn rains. And now the snows are come. This winter will be hard. Few of the old people will survive it, and many children will perish as well.”

It was a tale that any northmen knew well. “My father’s grandmother was a Flint of the mountains, on his mother’s side,” Jon told her. “The First Flints, they call themselves. They say the other Flints are the blood of younger sons, who had to leave the mountains to find food and land and wives. It has always been a harsh life up there. When the snows fall and food grows scarce, their young must travel to the winter town or take service at one castle or the other. The old men gather up what strength remains in them and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found come spring. More are never seen again.”

“Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue.”

So I think Whoresbane’s master plan (and given all of the the above, I’d say it’s very much his plan, and Crowfood is following his lead) is to lead the old men on a glorious kamikaze mission against the hated Boltons, while Crowfood preserves the next generation, who now may have enough to eat. Like his great-nephew Smalljon, he’ll go down a Stark man to the end, Umber on the inside where it counts.

#whoresbane umber #crowfood umber #roose bolton #twow spoilers #asoiaf meta

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