#boyd dies. a body in water

[bericas]

boyd & lydia | miss americana and the heartbreak prince

[hedwig221b]

For the fic recs, anything with babies please? Or just pregnant stiles?

I'm weeping I love kid!fics and mpreg!Stiles...

👶

Of Puppy Piles and Sugar Dreams by StarShineForMe

In which Isaac and Scott get de-aged, the pack must learn to bond and protect their own, and Derek ("Dewek!") and Stiles ("Sti-ewes!") are mates…even if it takes them forever and two toddlers to realize it.

“Oh, God.” Stiles buries his face in his hands, water dripping down his wrists.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Derek whips out a towel, wrapping it around Stiles’ forearms, pulling them away from Stiles’ body so he can look them over.

“I’m fine,” Stiles says, a little blankly. Erica and Boyd have set Issac and Scott back onto the floor, tickling them both into fits of giggles. He huffs out a noise that’s not quite a whimper, not quite a laugh. “Just wondering when the hell I ended up in my very own episode of ‘Teen Mom’.”

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03

Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.

Loving Isaac by QueenOfAngst21

A regular patrol around their land takes a turn for the worse when Derek and Isaac run into a unwanted visitor. Just when Derek thinks they are in the clear, he wakes to find not his beta beside him but a crying blonde haired baby right where he left Isaac. The pack stumbles over themselves as their alpha and emissary navigate this new dynamic and find each other along the way.

Last To Know by Never_Says_Die

Kink meme fill in which every werewolf and shapeshifter in Beacon Hills is aware that Stiles is pregnant before he is. And apparently the first baby!werewolf being born into the pack (their Alpha's, no less) is a big freakin' deal and excuse enough for everyone to lose their damn minds. When Stiles figures out why everyone's been acting so weird around him, he's not amused.

An Alpha's Baby by Dexterous_Sinistrous

It had been more than a year since Stiles had been home to Beacon Hills. Things didn't end well between him and Derek. And now, returning with a baby, Stiles starts to question if he really did the right thing and leave, or if he should have stayed.

Let your unfaithful weaving go by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Every night Stiles goes into the feasting hall to work on the shroud he is making for his husband, knowing that the alphas circle him like sharks until he is inevitably forced to choose one to stand as his alpha and Eli's regent.

It's been four years and he doesn't know how much longer he can do this.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm.

Awesome.

And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts.

Joy.

Shifts by gryvon

Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Be Strong by blacktofade

A hunter breaks into Stiles' house and Stiles deals with them.

Safe Place to Land by Green

The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Karma Is A Bitch by Brego_Mellon_Nin

Ironically, Stiles was just returning to his dorm after failed negotiations about a possible adoption agreement with a local pack, when he saw the fairy. She was cornered and he was unable to curb his protective instincts.

The fight was short and Stiles was left with only a blooming bruise on his jaw when the bullies scurried away. As a thank you, the fairy wanted to grant him a wish.

Who knew what a bit of fairy fertility magic could do?

Empty by DiscontentedWinter

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[im-not-thinking-confetti-cannons]

Day 6: Orgasm Delay/Denial

Warnings: none

Rating: E

Pairings: Boyd x Raylan, Jimmy x Raylan, Raylan x Tim, Boyd x Jimmy x Raylan x Tim

“Room for one more?”

Raylan’s got his face under the stream of water in the shower, but he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know it’s Boyd doing the asking – or to know that the man didn’t wait for an answer before opening the door and joining him. He scrubs a hand over his face as familiar hands settle on his hips, turns just in time to catch Boyd’s mouth in a slow, easy kiss. 

“Good morning to you too,” Raylan murmurs, chuckling under his breath as Boyd gently urges him back against the wall, pressing their bodies together in a way that gets Raylan’s attention, immediately. “Extra good morning, actually.”

Boyd kisses him again, a little harder, a little deeper – with purpose – and Raylan melts a little, the full-on attention getting to him more than the feeling of Boyd’s skin against his own. He’s already half-hard, just from Boyd’s hands on his hips and a couple of kisses, and he’s got a feeling this little morning delight isn’t going to take very long at all.

Boyd nips at his lip, soothing the sting with his tongue and swallowing down the desperate little sound Raylan makes. Boyd kisses like he intends on claiming Raylan's mouth for his own - like every inch of Raylan hasn't belonged to him since they were 19 and covered in coal dust - and Raylan isn't keen on talking him out of the urge.

“Raylan,” Boyd says, pressed so close Raylan can feel the rumble of the words in his own chest. The tile is cold, but Boyd is warm, and that’s a tradeoff Raylan will take any day. "Raylan."

The sound of his name in Boyd's low growl of a voice has Raylan shuddering, gasping out a shaky little breath when Boyd wraps a hand around them both. Raylan’s head thunks back against the shower wall, his eyes fluttering shut as a groan works its way out of his throat. 

“You’re going to make me late," he says, more out of the need to be ornery than anything else, and he feels the way Boyd ducks his head to hide his grin against Raylan's shoulder, the little huff of laughter his words draw. 

“Then you might have considered leaving half-an-hour ago, with Tim.”

“You know I need my beauty sleep. I–” Raylan’s voice cracks when Boyd scrapes his teeth over his pulse, and for a moment he wishes for a mark so strongly he can almost taste it. It would show above his collar, be impossible to hide, but he wants it. Wants to wear the bruise, and then come home and have Boyd darken it with sucking kisses and sharp teeth.

Boyd’s grip tightens, and the rest of Raylan’s half-formed reply dies in his throat. "Fuck, Boyd," he manages. "Just like that." He bucks his hips up, chasing the tightening coil of pleasure he can feel beginning to build low in his gut. Boyd knows how to work him, how to wind him up just right, and Raylan's never quite figured out how not to fall apart at his touch.

Boyd gets him right there, right to the edge, and then-

"Goddammit," Raylan groans, as Boyd's hand falls away, leaving him aching and straining and so, so close. "Boyd, what the fuck."

Boyd presses a kiss to his collarbone, and Raylan would consider it apologetic except for the way Boyd nips at the skin, leaving a red, stinging mark behind, one that Raylan will feel even if it won’t show. “Not yet,” Boyd says, and the raspiness of his voice and the pleased little smile on his face is almost enough to make up for the fact that Raylan has to spend ten minutes thinking about coal dust and slurry to get his jeans to zip up.

Almost.

<hr>

Four hours later, Tim drags him out of the office for “lunch,” and Raylan doesn’t suspect a thing until Tim pulls into an empty parking lot and all but attacks his belt.

“Easy,” Raylan says, like he’s not primed and ready to go from the way Boyd left him hanging in the shower. "Christ, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, yet," Tim says, cheeky in a way that doesn't register immediately, and then those long, slender fingers slip into Raylan's underwear and wrap around his cock. And Raylan…

Well, Raylan fucking loves Tim's hands. Tim's got a habit of giving him the full length of them when he fingers Raylan open, and sometimes that's all Raylan can think about when he sees Tim twirling a pen around in the office, or pouring a cup of coffee at home. Even now, with Tim jerking him off rough and fast and perfect, that's where Raylan's mind goes: to Tim's fingers slipping a little lower, pressing into him, stretching him open just fast enough for it to burn in the best of ways.

"Might have to talk you into getting something into me," Raylan pants, and Tim rewards him with a devastating twist of his hand. Raylan whimpers, spreading his legs a little more, and pushes up into the touch best he can.

He's close, and he’s not even embarrassed about it. He's going to make a mess of his pants and probably his shirt, but he can taste the orgasm that's coming and he's not going to make Tim stop, not for anything. 

Tim, though, seems to have a different idea. 

“Whoops,” he says, far too cheery for the time and the place and Raylan’s own desperation. “Look at the time. We don’t want to be late getting back to the office.”

And then he takes his hand away, leaving Raylan aching and unsatisfied. 

“Are you fucking serious,” Raylan grits out, and Tim’s grin only widens, even though his pupils are so dark Raylan can only see a sliver of blue. The knowledge that Tim isn't unaffected should be a balm, but instead it just drives Raylan's frustration higher.

Tim makes a soft, sympathetic little sound, patting Raylan’s thigh in what he figures is supposed to be sympathy. “You want some ice for that?”

Raylan is going to kill him.

“Fuck you, Gutterson.”

<hr>

By the time Raylan gets home, he’s wired and on-edge and he's got a fucking plan. It's not a complicated one. Really all it involves is getting behind about locked door and fucking his own hand until he finally, finally, can come. 

But as soon as he walks through the door, Jimmy is there, grabbing his hand and leaning up for a kiss, and Raylan's not going to deny him that, not ever. And when Jimmy tugs him out to the living room, Raylan goes just as easily, because… well, because. The thought of help is infinitely more appealing than his existing plan.

Jimmy seems to have a plan of his own, judging from the way he all but shoves Raylan down onto the couch – and it's a plan Raylan is very much on board with. He raises his hips to help Jimmy tug his pants down, and then welcomes the younger man into his arms, leaning up to kiss the eager little smile right from his mouth.

"Lube," he breathes between kisses, but Jimmy just shakes his head, grabs Raylan's hand and guides it back so Raylan can feel where he's already wet and open, ready and waiting.

Raylan groans, deep in his chest, says, "You're my favorite," just to hear Jimmy's delighted little laugh. Then Jimmy sinks down onto him in one smooth, relentless motion, and Raylan feels it in his teeth. 

"All right, baby, all right," he manages, squeezing Jimmy's hips hard enough that he knows there will be bruises later. "Not wasting time, are you?"

"Want you," Jimmy says simply, and - well, how is Raylan supposed to argue with that?

He grits his teeth as Jimmy sets a pace that can only be described as desperate, sheer force of will the only thing stopping him from bucking up into Jimmy's tight heat and chasing his own orgasm. And even with that, it's only a handful of minutes later when he feels that telltale tightening, knows the point of no return is closer than he'd liked it to be. 

It takes every ounce of will he's got left to grab ahold of Jimmy’s hips and still him, to drag himself back from the edge. He’s figured out the game, now, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to disappoint – even if another denial might be enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

"Need a minute," he gasps out. "Just – don't move."

Raylan hears Boyd before he sees him, the measured sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Raylan sees him lean up against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets, looking all the world like he just walked in on Sunday brunch, and not Raylan with his pants around his ankles and Jimmy in his lap.

“Now what did I tell you,” Boyd drawls, smooth as molasses, and it’s impossible to miss the way Jimmy tightens, how color starts to bleed down the back of his neck. “Raylan will behave, if he’s got the proper motivation.”

“You’re a bastard,” Raylan grits out, and then leans up to kiss the hinge of Jimmy’s jaw, just to make sure there’s no misunderstanding around who he meant. “I should have fucking known this was your idea.”

Tim appears on the other side of the doorway, and when Boyd lifts his arm, he ducks under easily, tucking himself in against Boyd's side. And even with irritation making his skin hot and his words sharp, Raylan can't help but love the sight of the two of them together. 

Can’t help but wish they were together just a little fucking closer.

Jimmy shifts a little, and Raylan groans, letting his head flop back against the back of the couch. "You can't," he begins, and then makes himself take a deep, steadying breath. "Jimmy, sweetheart, you have to let me catch my breath or I'm going to ruin your fun."

Jimmy grins crookedly, reaches up to run the fingers of one hand through Raylan's hair. "Nah," he says. "This is the fun. No more teasing, I promise. Boyd and Tim got to wind you up - I get to let you go."

"Well, in that case…" Raylan reaches between them, gets a hand on Jimmy's cock. They both groan – Jimmy at the friction, Raylan at how Jimmy bucks his hips to seek it out. "Fuck," he breathes, and Jimmy echoes him with a strangled little whimper.

"Raylan, please," Jimmy whines, like he's the one who's been teased all damn day, but it does the trick. Raylan thrusts once, twice, and comes with a strangled, choked-off gasp, biting his tongue as the pleasure hits him hard enough to make his ears ring and his vision go dangerously dark. And the way Jimmy keeps moving, chasing his own peak, means it doesn't fucking end. It feels like he can't even breathe, not until Jimmy cries out brokenly and comes all over Raylan's stomach.

Raylan bows his head, pressing his forehead to Jimmy’s shoulder, and tries to catch his fucking breath. After a moment, Jimmy’s fingers skim softly up his back. “You good?” he asks, and Raylan groans wordlessly.

“Just fucking peachy,” he croaks after a moment, but it’s worth it for the way Jimmy laughs and presses a kiss to the top of his head – for the way Boyd and Tim settle on either side of them, finally as close as Raylan wants them.

Find this fic on AO3 here:

[cinema-tv-etc]

Movie Moments: Was Ben Hur gay? 

Leo suggested a classic such as Ben-Hur, The Magnificent Seven or The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, for a Movie Moments, hence this selection. One interesting item about Ben-Hur, released in 1959, is its underlying gay aspect. The story: Judah Ben-Hur (Charlton Heston) is a wealthy merchant of noble blood living in Jerusalem. His childhood friend Messala (Stephen Boyd), a tribune, arrives in Jerusalem to command the Roman garrison. At first happy to be reunited, they argue over Messala’s belief in the glory of Rome and imperial power, and Judah’s commitment to his faith and the Jewish people. They part in anger. When a tile is accidentally dislodged from the roof of Judah’s house, almost killing the newly arrived governor, Messala sentences Judah to the galleys although he knows him to be innocent. Judah’s sister and mother are sent to prison. On the way to the galley, Judah is given water by a then unknown Jesus. A galley slave for 3 years, Judah saves the life of Quintus Arrius, the Roman commander, during a battle. All charges are dropped against Judah and Arrius eventually adopts Judah as his son. Judah returns to Jerusalem and confronts Messala, demanding that his mother and sister be freed. Unbeknownst to Judah, they have become lepers and have been sent to live in the Valley of the Lepers, away from everyone else. Esther, a servant girl in love with Judah, discovers the truth but tells Judah that they are dead. When Judah is offered the chance to race a sheik’s chariot and 4 Arabian stallions in an upcoming race before Pilate, Judah accepts when he learns that Messala will be racing and is considered the finest charioteer in the land. The chariot race: The chariot race is one of the great film moments in history, filmed before the days of computer generated effects. It can be viewed at: http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=pbQvpJsTvxU Messala eliminates the other charioteers one by one but in the final confrontation with Judah, Messala’s chariot loses a wheel and he ends up being badly trampled. On his deathbed, he refuses amputation which may save his life, stating that he will not meet Judah with half a body. When he is asked how he knows that Judah will come, he hisses that he will come. We then see Judah’s silhouette against the light in the doorway. The following exchange takes place, one of the most emotionally powerful scenes in the movie: Messala: Triumph complete, Judah. The race won. The enemy destroyed. Ben-Hur: I see no enemy. Messala: What do you think you see? The smashed body of a wretched animal! Is enough of a man still left here for you to hate? Let me help you...You think they're dead. Your mother and sister. Dead. And the race over. It isn't over, Judah. They're not dead. Ben-Hur: Where are they? Where are they? (shouting) Where are they? Messala: (vengefully) Look for them in the Valley of the Lepers, if you can recognise them. (Grabbing Judah's clothing) It goes on. It goes on, Judah. The race, the race is not over. He dies gloating at Judah's horror, More than friends? Hollywood in 1959 was not a place to make statements about being gay, or to portray “the love that dare not speak its name”, as Oscar Wilde referred to homosexuality. There has been conjecture and commentary for many years that the relationship between Judah and Messala was more than friendship. This has been denied by the studio but conjecture persist. In the 1995 documentary The Celluloid Closet, which examined how Hollywood treated gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender characters, Gore Vidal recounted that he had been brought in to rewrite parts of the script, including the relationship between Judah and Messala. Director William Wyler was not satisfied that two men who had been close friends as youths could end up hating each other after disagreeing on politics. Vidal came up with the idea and subtext that the two had been lovers as teenagers and that Messala’s anger and hate come from Judah’s rejection of him. Wilder agreed provided that there was no direct reference to the sexuality and he discussed it with Stephen Boyd, who played Messala. He was told not to discuss it with Charlton Heston, who would freak out over the subtext. Heston later denied both the gay subtext and that Vidal had had any input into the script, a comment rebutted by Vidal by referring to Heston’s 1978 autobiography in which he stated that Vidal had been the author of much of the final shooting script. A bit of trivia: At about the 5.37 mark on the above Youtube clip, you will see Judah get thrown forward out of the chariot and get back in. The stunt man being thrown out and forward, and getting back in, was unintended but looked good on film so it was kept in. A scene was shot with Heston getting back in to the chariot to link with the above footage. How’s that Leo?

http://bytesdaily.blogspot.com/2010/01/movie-moments-was-ben-hur-gay.html

[whimsicalmeerkat]

Launch the Ship and 4 for Wip Wednesday, please!

This is from a post-nogitsune Sterek wip that hasn’t hit AO3 yet. I haven’t touched it in months, but I really enjoyed picking it back up. Got a few hundred more words on my launch the ship fic before I picked this one up. This one is called “wash off all this blame”.

~

“When did you decide to go to therapy?” Stiles asks late that afternoon.

They’re outside on the deck of the house, overlooking the beach. Stiles is sprawled out on the porch swing and Derek is on the steps, facing the water. It’s easier to ask when he can’t see his face.

“Laura made me go to one after the fire.”

Stiles opens his mouth, but realizes everything he first thought to say is pretty awful.

“I know,” Derek says with a huffed laugh. “She made me go, but I didn’t do much more than show up and wait for the sessions to end.”

That fits the Derek who came back to Beacon Hills a couple years ago.

“I found someone new after Boyd,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles doesn’t have to ask him to explain when he means. After Boyd died. After another woman used Derek’s body to kill someone he loved. Stiles gets up and goes to sit by Derek. He doesn’t say anything, but he presses their shoulders together.

[bigskydreaming]

Writing Pattern Game

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @gayvampiredivorce

Tagging anyone who wants to play, no pressure.

Hmm, let's see if there's any consistency whatsoever, lol. (The later ones on this list are ones only published in pieces on the blog).

By Lost Ways (Dick Grayson epic fantasy AU): Dusk dawned as the daylight died, not that the latter went gently.

Born Under A Bad Sign (Dick Grayson, Young Justice canon-divergence): "Wally. I need you."

Lightning Crashes (Teen Wolf, pre-pilot canon divergence): New York City streets were difficult to navigate in the best of circumstances.

Open Wounds (Teen Wolf, Scott-centric canon compliant one-shot): Nobody knew better than her son that Melissa McCall wasn’t above fighting dirty to get her way.

Carnival of Souls (Teen Wolf, Scott-centric canon divergent AU): Scott remembered dying.

Howling Like Real People Do (Teen Wolf, Boyd-centric canon divergent AU): Vernon Boyd was young when he learned the importance of being wallpaper.

Where Wild Things Are (Teen Wolf, Scott-centric pre-pilot canon divergence): ‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep,’ Robert Frost wrote in an earlier era, before the march of industrialization domesticated most of America’s wild spaces, burying forest trails beneath concrete highways and clearing ancient oaks to make way for condos and shopping malls.

The Bloodied Sands of Time (Teen Wolf, Dark Kira-centric future AU): The body’s newly immortal shock had barely begun to crystallize via rigor mortis when she felt his presence behind her.

These Days Keep Adding Up (Teen Wolf, Danny-centric Scanny future AU): Danny cracked open his eyes somewhere in the vicinity of 7 am and immediately regretted everything.

Moonlit Tides (Teen Wolf, Danny-centric Scanny characters-as-dolphin-and-shark-shifters AU): “The dolphins are up to something,” Jackson said. 

What The Fires Left Behind (Teen Wolf, Scott-centric pre-pilot canon divergent AU): Scott McCall came home on a Tuesday.

Ouroboros Dreaming (Teen Wolf, Jackson-centric Scackson AU): The dark waters of his sleep give birth to dreams of monsters - and only some of them wear his face.

Not sure if there actually are patterns here or not. I'm either as random as I think I am or as predictable as I think I am. I go either way depending on the day. LOL.

I do think I write fic pretty differently than I write original fiction though so now I'm tempted to do this with original projects and see if there's any difference between those and fic projects.

[americangrove]

Three Longleaf Pines, Boyd Tract, Weymouth Woods

Do landscapes die, or do they change? Paintings and buildings can certainly pass on, be reduced to actual ashes, and indeed whole epochs of human life seem to be terminal, their ends marked by tidy tombstones called centuries (Born xx00, Died xx99). But break the body of the land, pull out everything it rooted, cover it in tar and stone and yet water tends to remember where it ran, fire often remembers where it burned, and in the cracks something of what was rooted, roots again. 

Luckily the landscape here is not so far transformed. Trees, the longleaf pines, that were here before, four hundred years ago, remain in body at least even where the top has been torn off, and beneath them the youngest rise making their bids for longevity. Such succession though should not be thought timeless, as if some form of natural transformation unattended by loss and what cannot be recovered. This place is full of what is gone as is any other. But I am walking and reaching and listening here because continuity is everywhere as palpable as disjunction. Always landscape refuses to perish, though the possibility of telling what past landscape preceded the current one can. Here it hasn’t. 

[monkeyandelf]

Are there laboratories for breeding Homo Aquaticus? Amphibian Man - already a reality?

Back in the 19th century, science fiction writers dreamed that people could live not only on earth, but also in the sky, as well as in the abyss of the seas.  It must be said that even the famous ocean explorer Jacques Yves Cousteau claimed in 1962 that in 40-50 or 100 years people will have an operation that allows them to breathe underwater. A miniature device that supplies blood with oxygen was tried to be developed by the Japanese in the mid-90s. This would allow people to be under water without restrictions. Despite the fact that in countries such as the USA, Japan, the USSR / Russia, Israel and Italy there were real attempts to create a new kind of people, no tangible result was achieved. But, is this really true or is the truth hidden from the public?  A loud scandal erupted in 1984 in the United States, when documents about an attempt to create a unit of amphibian people called "Fishman" or "Man-Fish" were accidentally discovered during a fire in the CIA archives.

Fish Man Project. They were not implanted with any devices. Experts chose to go the other way. According to the calculations of scientists involved in this most difficult task, the problem of breathing under water could be solved with the help of artificial gills. It became known about 30 volunteers who allegedly volunteered for a series of complex operations.  Out of 30 people, only one survived. His name is Simon Boyd. He was lucky, because the chief surgeon of the project simply did not have time to get to him and died of a heart attack. Only in 2010, before his death, Simon shared information that he participated in the Fish Man project, but, by a lucky chance, survived. Of course, the temptation was extremely great, because it made it possible to descend to depths of up to half a mile or more without any equipment. But, alas, the creation of an amphibious man turned out to be an unattainable goal, at least at that time. Today, there are more than 1,500 secret medical laboratories in the world. Their activities are not reliably known and are hidden behind seven seals. What they do there, no one knows. Japanese researcher Keisuke Miyaito believes that scientists in several countries around the world have managed to implant real gills in people. And already today there are dozens or even hundreds of people who are able to swim to great depths without needing oxygen tanks.  This became possible due to several factors. It turned out that engrafting the gills is not enough. Only after artificial analogues of the spleen and liver were built into the body, for additional help to the organs, did the system work.

Are people with gills a reality? Thus, it is quite possible that people who saw ichthyanders, mermaids or sirens on the high seas actually encountered the result of secret experiments and developments of scientists. A person with such abilities will be able to stay under water for hours.  This could prove to be a major advantage, both militarily and help in the study of marine fauna and flora. Although to date no one has officially admitted to the successful conduct of such operations, many experts are sure that this is no longer a fantasy, but quite a reality. Read the full article

[spunky-89]

Derek Hale x Reader - Mate = Mom - Prologue

A/N: So full disclosure, when I wrote this I was still binging the series and was only in season 3. However, I had read so much fanfiction I felt like I knew pretty much everything. I have since nearly finished (I can’t make it through 6b, I just can’t) And I had had this idea rolling around in my brain since I started the show so here we are. It has been edited to fit my new knowledge about the show but lemme just say this is a happy ending AU where no one really dies and people don’t have to go through as much heartbreak. Depending on the response to this I’ll probably make it a series as I have so many ideas for this concept but we’ll see how it goes :D

Warnings: None, just fluff

WC:1.2k

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

Once things had finally calmed down again after everything with Jackson and the Kanima issue, Derek knew he needed to stop avoiding his phone which was blaring every few hours. He just knew that it wouldn't go well, and ignoring reality was easier than accepting it. So he continued to ignore his phone. 

This went on for a week.

Derek had invited all the wolves to his loft, meaning Isaac, Scott, Boyd, and Erica. And of course, Stiles had to tag along. He wanted to try and train the wolves to enhance fighting skills and their control. Scott was reluctant to join in, not wanting to be in Derek's pack, but he knew he needed to better understand and control his abilities. 

So far they were doing okay, but they still had a ways to go before they were ready to take on their normal teenage lives. He had just given them a break, he only did it because they were complaining too much for him to make them keep fighting. The younger wolves collapsed on the floor panting and bleeding a bit. Stiles went around and gave water to them all as he was chattering away.

“You know there are better ways to train than trying to kill them. I mean are you like a navy seal dropout, because I don’t even think they have this rigorous training…” he kept talking, but Derek stopped listening. He was focused on something else entirely. He could smell something, something he shouldn’t have been able to smell.

He slowly moved towards the door, perking his ears up to try and listen for any movement outside the door. Low and behold he could hear that click-clack of high-heels strutting down the hallway. He looked back at the pack in panic before schooling his features and muttering an ‘I’ll be back’ before he headed for the door.

“Does that mean we’re done for the day?” Erica called to him. He didn’t make a move like he’d heard her and just slipped out the heavy iron door. 

Once he had shut the door he looked down the hall and there you were. Seeing him step out of the loft had you freezing. Your face flickering between joy (and relief) and anger. Derek paused to see what you would do, and when you made no movement, he started to head towards you with long strides. As much as he was fearful of your reaction to his disappearance, he had missed you terribly. So his pace quickened. This seemed to snap you out of your daze and had you running as fast as you could towards him. You met in the middle as you jumped into his arms as he held you tight, lifting you off the ground for a moment before placing you back down. He didn’t release his hold on you though. He rested his forehead against yours as you leaned into him.

“I want to hate you and be mad, I really do. But gosh I’ve missed you too much to care.” You spoke softly. He let a little smile take over his face before he pulled you in for a long-overdue kiss. You melted into it immediately. You spent the next few minutes just holding each other in the hallway, stealing kisses every now and again, smiling dumbly at each other. 

“God I’ve missed you,” Derek mumbled against your lips.

“Is that why you didn’t answer my calls or texts?” You inquired, a hint of bitterness in your tone. You pulled away, but only slightly, just so you could fully see his face. He looked guilty. 

“I’m sorry, things have just been crazy here and I didn’t want you involved in this business.” He explained.

“So that means you can’t send a simple text saying ‘hey I’m okay, gonna be longer than I thought, love you’.” you snapped, your anger and hurt coming back full force. He sighed and looked down.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I guess I just wanted to keep you as far from this world as possible. And that meant far from me.” 

“What happened to ‘in this together’, huh? Did those words actually mean anything to you or was it just to make me comfortable enough to run the first chance you got?” 

He was shocked at your words. And then he realized why you were so mad. You weren’t mad at him, you were mad at yourself. Your insecurities had taken hold of you and he wasn’t there to help fight them off. Sure, he wasn’t always great with words, but somehow you found comfort in him. And then he had left.

He pulled you back into his chest, and even though you resisted slightly, in the end, you succumbed to his embrace. 

“I don’t know what your brain is telling you but I can promise you, it’s wrong. I only left because I was worried about my sister. It had nothing to do with you or us.” He promised. He felt you sag, the anger dissipating. 

“Just promise me you won’t do that again. I can’t have you just disappear on me.” You begged.

“I promise, no more leaving.” 

“Good,” You mumbled as you brought his lips back to yours. It was barely a few moments before the sound of a heavy door creaking open could be heard, even by your human ears.

Derek sighed as he could hear the young wolves behind him trying to stealthily exit the loft to see what the commotion in the hallway was about. He could hear them whisper arguing about being quieter. 

“Do I wanna know?” You asked, looking up at him and seeing his face pinched in mild exasperation. 

“There’s a reason I stuck around,” He said, still keeping his back to the loft and using his body to subtly shield yours from view. 

“Okaaay,” 

“Long story short, there’s a bunch of teenage werewolves trying to eavesdrop and are failing terribly by talking way too loud.” His voice raised at the end so that he was pretty much shouting down the hall. Even you could hear the “oh shit” that was let out as the wolves tried to scramble back inside the loft. You just laughed. Between these kids getting caught and Derek’s long-suffering look, you couldn’t help it. Derek desperately tried to keep a straight face muttering “It’s not funny, they’re a pain in my ass.” But the more you laughed, the harder it was to keep a smile from creeping onto his face. 

“Com’on grumpy pants, let’s meet these wolves that are somehow more important than me.” You teased as you took his hand and started walking towards the door you saw him come out of. He groaned and fell into step with you.

“That’s not what that was and you know it.” He grumbled. 

You giggled and said, “I know, but you know I love teasing you.” He just mumbled something under his breath and you smiled, reaching over to peck his cheek. 

You quickly reached the large iron door and Derek gave you a look before pulling it open and saying, “(Y/N), meet the pack.”

[academiaoscura]

2021 in books

Here is my 2021 reading wrap-up! The titles in italics are the ones I’m emphasizing as recommendations.

january:

1. “Christmas Days” by Jeanette Winterson

2. “Antigone” by Sophocles, translated by our Lord and Savior, Anne Carson

3. “The Undiscovered Islands” by Malachy Tallack

4. “The Handbook of Yoruba Religious Concepts” by Baba Ifa Karade

5. “Decisions and Dissents of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg” edited by Corey Lang Brettschneider

6. “The Soul of an Octopus” by Sy Montgomery

7. “World of Wonders” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

8. “A Little Life” by Hanya Yanagihara

9. “Magickal Mermaids” by Flavia Kate Peters

february:

1. “Dear Juliet” edited by the Juliet Club

2. “Memorias de mis putas tristes” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

3. “Midnight Sun” by Stephenie Meyer

4. “Infinite Country” by Patricia Engel (DNF)

5. “Anne of Green Gables” by L.M. Montgomery 

6. “Twilight” by Stephenie Meyer (re-read)

7. “New Moon” by Stephenie Meyer (re-read)

8. “Entangled Life” by Merlin Sheldrake

march:

1. “The Dumb House” by John Burnside (TW)

2. “Hope Never Dies” by Andrew Shaffer

april:

1. “150 Glimpses of the Beatles” by Craig Brown

2. “The Passion” by Jeanette Winterson

3. “The Satanic Bible” by Anton Szandor LaVey

4. “A Coney Island of the Mind” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

5. “The Final Revival of Opal and Nev” by Dawnie Walton

6. “Leave the World Behind” by Rumaan Alann

may:

1. “The Invention of a Murder” by Judith Flanders

2. “A History of the World in 6 Glasses” by Tom Standage

3. “Ghost Wall” by Sarah Moss

4. “God is Not One” by Stephen R. Prothero (DNF)

5. “Written on the Body” by Jeanette Winterson

6. “Loki: Agent of Asgard″ by Al Ewing (re-read)

7. “Loki: Agent of Asgard #2″ by Al Ewing (re-read)

8. “Poesia de Amor” by Pablo Neruda

9. “Modern Greek Poetry” edited by Kimon Friar

10. “Of Blood and Magic” by Shayne Leighton

11. “In Focus Reiki: Your Personal Guide” by Des Hynes

12. “Beneath the Moon” by Yoshi Yoshitani

13. “Tales of a Korean Grandmother” by Frances Carpenter

14. “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera

15. “Mercy, Unbound” by Kim Antieau

june:

1. “Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life” by William Finnegan

2. “The Falling in Love Montage” by Ciara Smyth

3. “Butterflies of North America” by Jeffrey Glassberg

4. “Last Night at the Telegraph Club” by Malinda Lo

5. “King John” by William Shakespeare

6. “Girl Crushed” by Katie Heaney

july:

1. “The Death of Vivek Oji” by Akwaeke Emezi

2. “New Moon” by Stephenie Meyer

3. “Wonderful Tonight” by Pattie Boyd

4. “An Oresteia” by Anne Carson

august: 

1. “Crazy Brave” by Joy Harjo 

september:

1. “The Carrying” by Ada Limón

2. “A Queer History of the United States” by Michael Bronski

3. “The Maidens” by Alex Michaelides

4. “The Black Arts” by Richard Cavendish

5. “Soiled Doves” by Anne Seagraves

october: 

1. “A Dowry of Blood” by S.T. Gibson

2. “Books of Blood” by Clive Barker

3. “We Are Not From Here” by Jenny Torres Sanchez

4. “Playing in the Dark” by Toni Morrison

5. “Deep and Dark and Dangerous” by Mary Downing Hahn (Re-Read)

november:

1. “Collected Poems” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

2. “Green Witchcraft” by Paige Vanderbeck

3. “Medicine Women, Curanderas, and Women Doctors” by Babette Perrone et al.

4. “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky (Re-Read)

5. “I’ll Take You There” by Greg Not (DNF)

6. “Upstairs Girls” by Michael Rutter

7. “Fingersmith” by Sarah Waters (DNF)

8. “Once Upon a Quinceanera” by Julia Alvarez

9. “Sabrina and Corina: Stories” by Kali Fajardo-Anstine

10. “The People We Keep” by Allison Larkin

11. “Besom, Stang, Sword” by Christopher Orapello

12. “Ute Tales” by Anne M. Smith

13. “The Age of Entitlement” by Christopher Caldwell (DNF)

14. “The History of Torture” by Brian Innes

15. “Kaleidoscope” by Brian Selznick

december:

1. “Resistencia: Poems of Protest and Revolution” by Mark Elsner

2. “A Touch of Darkness” by Scarlett St. Clair

3. “David Bowie Made Me Gay: 100 Years of LGBT Music” by Darryl W. Bullock

4. “Ordinary Girls” by Jaquira Díaz

5. “Postcolonial Love Poem” by Natalie Diaz

6. “Gods Behaving Badly” by Marie Phillips

7. “Future Home of the Living God” by Louise Erdrich

8. “Winter” by Ali Smith (DNF)

9. “The Poet X” by Elizabeth Acevedo

Here’s to another year of reading! DM if you’d like more personalized reading recommendations. 

-bia

[phantaloon-books]

I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

[friendofhayley]

Monthly shout-out to every fanfic creator for all fandoms! Thank you for posting your talent for free and making our fandoms a more creative place. <3 This fic rec includes 12 fics from One Direction, Harry Potter, and Teen Wolf fandoms.

Larry (One Direction)

1. Praise the Mutilated World by @eeveelou, @creamcoffeelou | dystopian AU - A/B/O - on par with Hunger Games for dystopian world/plot - maybe its the feminism but I saw some parallels between governing of vagina-welders and omegas - 106k

It was August when everything changed.

By October, the leaves changed, and so did Louis’ heart.

2. i'll be someone who won't be forgotten by @socialiststyles | oof oof oof this hit close to home (for Sagittariuses) - love confessions - friends to strangers to lovers - angst with a happy ending - 27k

"I’m just—" (Harry hiccups) "there’s a lot here."

And – yeah. There are oceans between them and mountain ranges surrounding them and Louis can feel tectonic plates shifting beneath his unsteady feet, pulling them further and further apart by the heartbeat. There are countries of distance, but there are pages and maps and textbooks of shared histories, moments documented and carefully filed away and Louis can’t remember thinking complete thoughts before he thought of Harry.

3. Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by @lesbianiconharrystyles | this was so soft and lovely - gAyBO - omega/omega - fluff and anxiety - 1k

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

4. falling, catching by tsuneni | light academia - first time - strangers to lovers - creatives in love - 23k

Harry’s jotting down some more notes when he feels a thud on his right shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, thank God, because when he turns his head to the right his suspicions are confirmed. The boy has fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder.

When Harry lets out the breath he had been holding, the sleeping boy pushes his nose further into the burgundy fabric of Harry’s sweater, and wraps his arm around Harry’s waist.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

Wolfstar (Harry Potter)

5. I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @lenscribbles | I loved that Remus was a POC and his Syrian mother is amazing - friends to lovers - mutual pining - and nothing bad happens to them ever in the future :) - 12k

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

“You are wicked, wicked wizards,” Remus moans from where he refuses to get up on his bed, covering his face with his hands, a good call on his end considering that the very next moment he feels a cascade of confetti pouring all over him. “The worst of the worst! You deserve to rot in Azkaban!”

“Oh how you flatter us Moonykins,” Sirius croons, pulling him up while James and Peter begin a frankly awful rendition of For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.

6. Our Destiny in the Stars by orphan_account | non-magical AU - body insecurity issues - trans Sirius - amputee Remus - 11k

Having no luck in the dating field, and insecure about his body, Remus checks out a dating website which offers the users the opportunity to get to know a person before seeing what they look like. It's during this time he meets Sirius, an enthusiastic teacher--and they immediately click. When they agree to meet, Remus sees a photo of Sirius and immediately panics. He's too good looking to ever be interested in someone like Remus. What the tawny-haired man doesn't know, is Sirius has already checked him out online and has fallen head over heels for the adorable editor.

Drarry (Harry Potter)

7. Old Magic (series) by @mystickitten42 | Drarry runs away together pree-HBP - very realistic getting-together - Narcissa is the GOAT - poor Sirius stuck in the middle - 2+ parts

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum…

Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

8. The Importance of Being Draco Malfoy (series) by @upon-poppyhills | this is just great, I love that without memories Draco is without prejudice - Harry goes from suspicious to denial to crushing - brief but wonderful Draco/Justin Finch-Fletchley - I can't wait for everyone to find out about Draco's head - 3+ parts

The answer to the age-old question, "What if instead of a scratch on the arm, Buckbeak had stomped on Draco's head instead and caused tragic memory loss?"

It was a truth universally acknowledged that the path to reforming a Slytherin prince never did run smooth.

9. Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx, @llap115 | I confused this with another fic so I never read it until now and it's THE BEST - Drarry talk like dark academia boys sometimes - I'm so glad Draco had Regulus T.T - when he meets the Regulus portrait!! *screams* - 86k

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

10. bury the dead where they're found by @rocketdocket | THIS FIC is the ultimate found family fic - sometimes people prefer the closet and that's awesome! - PTSD and suicidal thoughts - queer people are just better than the straights, sorry not sorry - 52k

The war is over. Or at least, that's how it feels for everyone else. But not for Harry. He can't escape the memories and the nightmares of the war, or his guilt about those who died for him. While all he wants is to be alone, finding a family in the most unlikely of places may be just what he needs.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

11. A Californian Werewolf in New York by @dancinbutterfly, knight_changes | I love that Oz from Buffy is just there - friends to lovers - bottom Derek - misunderstandings - 16k

When Derek finally realizes that there's nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home.

12. (they say) this should feel something like fire by dallisons | mental and physical trauma - Boyd & Stiles friendship - dream!Erica - rebuilding - 11k

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

[achubbydumpling]

(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66

Rating: Mature Words: 1901 Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Public stuffing, Roadtrip, Chubby Stiles

Summary: Stiles and Derek enjoy their first vacation together. Stiles suggests they take on various food challenges to save money while on the road. However, Derek's werewolf metabolism deals with the excess food a lot better than Siles' strictly human one.

(I tried a bit of a different approach to a stuffing, a bit more focused on the way it makes Stiles feel. Hope you enjoy it!)

“It winds from Chicago to LA More than two thousand miles all the way”

“Oh, my God. This is such a good idea! We’ll save so much money.” Stiles was waving the menu around while he talked and almost knocked over his glass of water.

“Right, Derek?”

“Right. Awesome,” was his clipped answer. Derek looked like his usual grumpy self, but with his hand on Stiles’ thigh and with how close he was sitting, Stiles didn’t worry about the slightly pained expression on his face. He’d soften up once the breakfast crowd died down a bit and there weren’t this many people around.

Read on AO3

“We just have to finish those three pancakes and then the food is free! Even if we can’t finish it’s 15 dollars to try and we can take the leftovers on the road.”

Stiles didn’t want to throw in the towel before the challenge had even begun, but it was probably for the best to not go into this completely blind. While waiting for their server to return Stiles looked up eating competitions online.

They did have 90 minutes in total to finish all the food, but Stiles hypothesized that eating as quickly as possible would be the best strategy. Derek argued that they should take advantage of all the time they were given. Now that Derek could focus on something else than his surroundings his hunched over posture slowly relaxed.

The banter eventually escalated into a bet that whoever finished first got to choose a punishment for the loser. Stiles was almost certain he would lose out against the werewolf metabolism, but he didn’t think Derek would go for a particularly harsh punishment. He would have never agreed to this with Scott because he always chose the most embarrassing punishments.

This was his and Derek’s very first vacation on their own after finally sorting out their mutual pining. The road trip had been planned for close to year. However, the exact date had always been pushed back by another monster of the week ruining their plans. Instead of making a round trip they had flown up to Chicago and rented a car instead of taking the Jeep like Stiles had initially planned. The old girl probably wouldn’t have made it anyway.

Another consequence of pushing their vacation back was the weather. Instead of driving in late spring or early summer, when the heat would have still been bearable, it was August—the hottest month of the year.

The AC could barely keep up and all the people that had just eaten breakfast here had heated the small diner up even more. Stiles poured himself another glass of ice water.

He was looking forward to when they would get far enough south to where diners started serving real sweet tea. Boyd had shared a few stories with the pack about the summers he had spent on his uncle’s farm in Georgia. How the only thing that could chase the sweltering heat away for a moment was the ice-cold sweet tea his auntie always kept in the fridge.

When their food finally arrived at the table the server could barely fit both plates on the small table for two. Each pancake was twelve inches in diameter, the stack was piled high with maple syrup, banana, and whipped cream.

“Wow, these are huge!” Derek stifled a laugh.

“There was a picture in the menu.” The server cleared his throat to get their attention before they could dig in.

“When this,” he held a tomato shaped kitchen timer up, “goes off and you have not finished the challenge you will be—” he sighed and made an unenthusiastic buzzer noise “—disqualified.”

“Thanks, pal.” Stiles grinned back. The server glared at him for a second before he wound up the timer and left the table.

“Man, that guy is in a bad mood.” Stiles tried joking around with Derek before they got serious about this challenge.

“You haven’t worked in hospitality before.”

“And you have?” He took another sip of water and waved the glass around threatening to spill all over.

“Summer job.” Derek shrugged and finally picked up his fork.

“Wait, you can’t just drop something like that and not tell me more details.”

“If you don’t want to pay for this mountain of food you better dig in.”

Stiles whined Derek’s name annoyed, but also picked up his fork.

“On three,” Stiles said, but Derek was already chewing the first bite.

“Cheater,” Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

These were a lot flatter than the standard-sized pancakes. Probably deflated by their own weight, but the mixture of flour, sugar and oil tasted great all the same. Stiles hadn’t had banana pancakes before, but he welcomed the fruity sweetness in contrast with the straight up sugar of the rest of the meal.

Stiles surprised himself when he managed to keep up with Derek all through the first pancake. When he got started on that second one, he even pulled ahead for a bit, but he hit a wall as soon as half of it was gone. It felt like his stomach had suddenly closed down shop and he felt almost nauseous when he thought of eating even more sugar.

However, when Derek pulled ahead and finished off his second pancake without any trouble Stiles doubled down. He knew it was a loosing battle, but he wasn’t about to give up this easily. Yet, as willing as his mind was, his body failed him. With about three quarters of the last pancake left his determination flagged.

The food weighed heavily in his stomach. The vague nausea from eating way too much sugar curled up into his throat and had him sipping water to try and wash it down, which only made him feel even fuller.

Stiles could picture exactly what he looked like right now. He’d done this in front of his bedroom mirror. His stomach rounding out, like half a beach ball taped to his front. The curve of a belly looking out of place on his thin frame.

He had always loved to eat, not only for the sake of taste, but also because of how it made him feel. Sated. Heavy. Tethered down and not constantly in danger of floating away in his own mind. That moment when his thoughts finally ground to a halt and all he could do was to be overwhelmed by that feeling—almost on the wrong side of too much to handle.

However, he wasn’t at that point yet. This was more of a mental block. Unlike Derek, he didn't really have a sweet tooth. Stiles preferred salty, greasy substantial meals over dessert any day.

Stiles had been sat staring at his plate before Derek leaned against him to whisper, “You ok?”

Stiles groaned but picked up his fork again. Derek didn’t seem affected by the amount of food at all. Then again, the wolves always had to eat a lot just to keep their mass up. They leaned out quickly without enough food, preserving energy.

“Just taking a break.” Stiles could see Derek shifting in his seat, the wolf always craving closeness. They’d talked about this, whatever it was, after Derek had accidentally seen Stiles once afterwards. Stiles had tried his best to explain while still caught in that blissed out state. He didn’t know how but Derek had somehow understood.

Derek finally put that last bite in his mouth and then moved closer to Stiles. The entire side of his body was pressed up against Stiles. He was carefully draped over Stiles shoulders offering support, but not crowding him in. Stiles was still steeling himself for the next bite when Derek’s hand slipped under his shirt. Knuckles dragging against bare skin.

Stiles yelped and grabbed at Derek’s wrist. “What are you doing?” he whispered urgently.

“Helping,” Derek answered and furrowed his brows. Like always. Except they were in the middle of a restaurant and not locked in Stiles’ bedroom.

“Stop. Someone is going to see you,” he paused to search for the right word but then just flicked his eyes to where he was still holding Derek’s wrist.

“We’re not coming back here. You wanted to do the challenge.” Stiles wanted to whine and complain at Derek, but he was right. Stiles had suggested doing the food challenge. He’d honestly just thought about getting free food, only when they had already ordered, did he even think of this possibility.

“Plus,” Derek almost purred into Stiles’ ear, “winner gets to choose a punishment, right?”

Stiles’ “not really a punishment” died in his throat when Derek pulled him almost into his lap and his knuckles started digging into the roundest part of his stomach. They probably just looked like an overly affectionate couple, but that didn’t keep that searing hot shame from bubbling up. Stiles wanted to hide his burning face against Derek’s shoulder. He wanted to push Derek away. Stiles wanted to cram the rest of the pancake into his mouth to keep himself from thanking Derek out loud for getting his hands on his stuffed belly.

Derek hadn’t seemed interested in participating in Stiles’ peculiar activities but every time they had somehow ended up in that situation again, he had gotten more and more affectionate towards Stiles and his bloated middle.

“You’re gonna finish that, aren’t you?” Stiles shook his head, but he stabbed his fork into the pancake, nonetheless.

“Are you?” Derek asked again, a teasing edge to it. Stiles didn’t trust his voice and just nodded.

“Yes, look at yourself. The first chance you get to stuff yourself full of some food and you run headfirst into it.” Derek cupped his bloated stomach and lifted it up a bit.

“Look at that. All the food you stuffed in there making a nice little belly. Do you want to eat like this every day?” Stiles pushed another bite past his lips almost all whipped cream.

“Do you?” Derek prompted him. A whine caught in Stile’s throat, and he pushed it down with another forkful of food. He nodded and hummed agreeably.

“You’re just so greedy to be stuffed full.” Stiles was burning up but instead of reaching for his glass of water he gathered the last bits and pieces on his plate.

“You know what’s gonna happen if I let you eat like this every day?” Stiles was fast approaching the simple state of mind he was craving. He couldn’t decide whether to nod or shake his head. The motion of Derek’s hand on his stomach softened. Rubbing large circles into the stretched skin.

“You’re gonna get fat if you eat like this every day.” With that last mouthful Stiles had finished the challenge, but all he could think about was what Derek had just said.

“Feels so good,” Stiles said. Words slurred and a dopey smile on his face while he turned further into Derek’s body.

“Feels too good to stop, huh? Never had all that food just for free. That’s why you dragged me out here, off the highway. Not because you cared about what you’d eat, but because of how much. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered. “Every day.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’ve got four weeks on the road and me to take care of you.”

“Won't you get hip to this timely tip When you make that California trip Get your kicks on Route 66”

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.27

Word Count: 3,082

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Deaton, Allison Argent (brief), Lydia Martin (brief), Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, cliffhanger

A/N: ---

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you heard Isaac talking to himself as he paced around Derek’s loft, while you followed behind Derek.

“You’re not giving me an actual reason,” you groaned.

You ran behind Derek, as he kept walking, not facing you before walking down the stairs to Isaac.

“No is an actual reason,” he replied.

If Isaac couldn't remember anything, it only made sense for you to do a spell to jog his memory, or for you to look into his head. 

It made sense to all except Derek.

He insisted that it’d be Peter to look into Isaac’s head.

“Derek, stop. I’m serious. I hate him, I don’t trust him, he’s an asshole, have I mentioned I hate him?” you ran down the stairs, trailing Derek.

“No one likes him,” Derek sighed.

“Why can’t (Y/N) do this?” Isaac asked.

You crossed your arms, looking at Derek as you leaned against the table.

“No. End of discussion,” Derek glared at the two of you as you rolled your eyes.

Why doesn't he trust me?

“I hate him,” you said.

“Everyone does,” Derek replied.

“You know, coming back from the dead left a few of my abilities somewhat impaired, but my hearing still works fine. So, whatever you have to say, I hope you’re comfortable saying it to my face,” you heard Peter’s annoying voice as he opened the door, walking towards the three of you.

“We don’t like you,” you spat, glaring at him.

“Now shut up and help us.”

---

“I do suggest you calm and relax a little, trust me,” Peter started. 

Isaac sat on a chair next to Derek while you paced around, still unable to trust Peter. 

Peter’s eyes flashed blue as he dug his claws into Isaac’s neck, while Isaac jumped up. Peter wrapped his other arm around Isaac’s neck, in an attempt to keep him still as Isaac yelped in pain. 

Your eyes widened, running to Isaac before Derek pulled you back.

“No,” he shook his head. 

You continued looking at Isaac and Peter, watching as the two of them struggled.

Peter gasped loudly, jumping away from Isaac while Isaac wrapped his hand around his neck, rubbing the wound. 

You put your arm on Isaac’s shoulder as he looked up at you.

“You okay?” you asked him.

“Yeah, nothing like a psychopath sticking his nails into my neck to brighten my morning,” Isaac said sarcastically.

You laughed softly, patting his shoulder before looking back at Peter.

“Did you see anything?” Derek asked.

“He found them,” you tensed, hearing those words come out of Peter’s mouth.

“He saw them?” you said.

“I mean, I didn’t see much, glimpses really,” Peter said, facing away from you and Derek.

“Okay, but you did see them, right?” Derek asked.

“Worse,” you felt your face dropped as you took a deep breath.

“Deucalion,” you answered softly.

Peter nodded, turning to you as you took a few steps back.

“He was talking to them. Something about time running out,” your heart began to ache as you listened to him.

There was absolutely no way that this wasn’t your fault. Erica and Boyd were gonna die soon, if not then they already were gone.

“He’s gonna kill them,” you felt Isaac’s and Derek’s eyes on you as you continued looking away from them, looking at Peter. 

“No, he didn’t say that. But he did promise them that by the full moon they’d be dead,” Peter said.

“The next full moon? As in tomorrow night?” your voice wavered slightly.

Peter nodded as you looked away from him.

“(Y/N),” you heard Derek call you.

“I gotta go to school,” you said softly, avoiding looking at any of them as you grabbed your bag, running out of the loft. 

---

Being at a college was definitely 100 percent different. You never had any real friends your age, there was no Stiles or Scott, no Isaac running down the halls. As you went on with your classes, you found it difficult to shake away the cold feeling. Something different between you and Derek now. All summer he didn’t let you follow any lead on Erica and Boyd, sending Isaac instead. When Isaac was at the hospital, he knew and didn’t tell you. And on top of all, Peter. He somehow trusted Peter over you to look into Isaac’s head. 

You made your way to your next class, feeling a weird sense wash over your body as you looked around. Someone was watching you. 

You soon lost your focus on looking, as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

You looked at your phone, receiving a group text from Stiles and Scott, to you and Derek.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed of them, and of school. It was only the second week and you’d already missed a day, now you’re missing another class. If this kept going, there was no chance you’d be a successful lawyer. 

It’s your fault they’re in trouble, to begin with

That voice in your head haunted you as you sighed, agreeing, leaving school once again.

Looks like economics had to wait.

---

“There’s nothing there,” you walked into the classroom, feeling weird walking through Beacon Hills High again.

“Look again. Please,” Scott stopped Derek from leaving. 

“It’s the exact same bruise on both sides,” Allison said.

She and Lydia stood next to each other, holding the forearms out.

“It means nothing,” Derek argued.

“What happened?” you saw as Allison looked at you, before looking down. Things were still different between you two.

Lydia bit her lip, looking at you awkwardly.

“I told you not to come,” Derek pulled you aside.

“And I told you that I’m going. Just stop,” you rolled your eyes, walking to Scott.

“Okay, so this girl came looking for Scott, she asked me and Allison,” Lydia started to explain.

“She left the same exact bruises on both of them,” Scott said.

You mentally groaned, fighting every urge to hit Scott.

“You said it was important,” you said.

“Maybe it's a clue to where Erica and Boyd are,” Scott said.

“You-” you started, before taking a breath.

“Okay, who was the girl?” you asked.

“I think she’s the one who saved Isaac,” Scott said.

“Well, where did she go? We should try and find her. She’s the best lead we have so far,” you said.

“Okay, but you’re ignoring the whole reason we called you in the first place,” Scott said.

“I came because Stiles said it was an emergency. A bruise is not an emergency, I was in school!” you groaned.

“Please. They're trying to help,” Scott begged.

“These two?” Derek walked to you and Scott, crossing his arms.

“This one, who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle,” he said, pointing at Lydia.

“And this one, who shot about 30 arrows into me, Isaac, and (Y/N),” Derek glared at Allison.

“If you forgot, Peter coming back was his fault, Lydia is as much of a victim as you are. Allison’s mom died. They’re trying to help,” you tried to defend them.

“They can help by trying to find something real,” Derek walked away, turning his back to all of you as you sighed.

“Is that what you needed me to do a spell for?” you looked at Stiles.

“Well, not really,” you crossed your arms, sitting next to Stiles.

“This weekend there was a party for one of my friends who turned 17. We were… about to do something and then she sort of disappeared. No one’s seen her since then,” Stiles explained.

“So you want me to find her?” you asked.

He nodded softly.

“Okay, how about we do this after school? Just come over and I’ll help you, okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks,” Stiles said.

“No problem,” 

Stiles clumsily arose from his seat, as a few things fell out of his pockets.

“You dropped this,” you handed him the condom that he dropped on the floor.

His face went red as he took it from you, putting it back in his pocket.

“So, that was the something, huh?” you teased.

“Not funny,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You don’t think she just ran away from you?” you asked.

Stiles looked at you, shocked as he rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye,” you laughed, pushing past him as you left the school.

---

“Derek, just talk to me!” you stood in front of him, blocking him as he was on his way out of the loft.

“What do you want me to tell you?!” he yelled.

“Why are you trusting Peter over me? Why are you trusting Deaton over me?! You’re trying to keep me out of everything, and I’m sick of it! Why?!” you yelled.

“I told you I’m trying to keep you safe!” he yelled.

“I don't need you to keep me safe! I’m capable of doing that myself!” 

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you! (Y/N), we don’t know what we're up against. We have an alpha pack on our hands, and you’re blaming yourself for Erica and Boyd. Whatever we find… I don’t know what we’re gonna find. I don't know what you'll do if something happens,” he looked down at you, holding your hands.

“I…” you sighed, finding a loss for words.

“I know you say that you don't need me to protect you, but that’s not going to stop me. I love you and that's my job.” 

Your eyes watered slightly, as you scoffed.

“Erica and Boyd were my fault, I need to find them,” you said softly.

“Nothing was your fault. You told them to run, you didn't know what would happen,” Derek said softly, trying to comfort you.

No amount of words would shake that feeling from you.

“Please. I need to. You have to let me do something, just let me help,” you said softly.

“We’re close to finding them, just please let me do this,” he begged, stroking your cheek.

“Let’s go to Deaton’s, okay?” you nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you left.

---

You, Scott, and Isaac began to fill up a bathtub with ice and cold water, as Isaac walked in with Derek, looking nervously.

“Not to be that person…  but didn't we do this to kill (Y/N)?” Isaac pointed out, scratching his neck.

“Well, we won’t have to keep your head underwater the whole time, and this will be different,” Deaton explained.

“It’s safe, right?” Isaac bent down, resting his arms on the tub as he looked down at the water.

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” Deaton raised his eyebrow.

“No… okay, let’s do this,” Isaac nodded, taking a deep breath.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said.

“It’s fine,” Isaac reached for your hand as you held it, stroking it softly to comfort him.

You smiled at him softly before he took his shirt off, entering the tub, shivering.

The four of you looked at Deaton, before he nodded, telling you to push him under.

Isaac struggled, trying to break free as he yelled loudly, in pain. 

“Hold him down,” Deaton said.

“We’re trying,” you and Derek held his head down, while Stiles and Scott held his legs down.

You felt his body go limp a few seconds later, his eyes closed.

His head floated up in the water.

“Okay, no one else can talk to him, okay? Too many voices will draw him out,” Deaton warned.

You nodded softly, taking a deep breath.

“Isaac? Can you hear me?” Deaton started.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes closed.

“I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd. I want you to remember everything that happened,” Deaton said.

You heard the thunder rumbling as the lights began to flicker.

That’s not a good sign

“N-No, I don’t wanna do that. I don't… I don’t want to do that. No,” Isaac began shaking, fear evident in his voice.

“It's all right. They’re just memories, they can’t hurt you,” Deaton said.

“(Y/N), hold his hand,” Deaton whispered.

You nodded, holding his hand as you stroked it softly, calming him.

Isaac’s breathing was shaky before he calmed down, panic still evident.

“Okay, is it a building, some type of house? Where are you?” Deaton asked.

“It’s not a house. It’s stone. I think it’s marble,” Isaac responded.

“Okay, that's perfect. What else can you tell me?” Deaton asked.

“It's dusty, empty,” he said.

“Like an abandoned building?” Deaton asked.

Isaac went quiet, as the lights began to flicker again.

“Isaac?” Deaton said.

“Someone’s here,” he said.

“No! T-They see me! No!” Isaac screamed, squeezing your hand tightly.

“They see me!” he screamed.

“Isaac, relax,” Deaton told him.

You looked at Isaac frantically, as he began screaming.

“Isaac, relax,” Deaton said again.

Isaac exhaled shakily, before opening his eyes.

“I hear him. They’re talking about the full moon and they're scared of what they’ll do to each other,” Isaac shivered, his teeth chattering.

“If they’re locked together on a full moon, they’ll kill each other,” Derek whispered.

“Isaac, we need to find them. Where are they?” Deaton asked.

“They’re here... they’re here!” Isaac gasped, sitting up, but still in his trance-like state.

“They found me! They’re here!” Isaac cried.

“This isn't working. Isaac, where are they?!” Derek yelled, holding him down.

“It’s too dark. I-I can't…” Isaac cried.

“Where are they?!” Derek yelled.

“Derek, stop!” you yelled at him.

“No, all of you stop. There’s too many voices,” Deaton warned.

“Isaac, where?!” Derek yelled at him.

“Derek, let him go!” you and Scott yelled at him.

He squeezed your hand, as you felt his claws digging into your skin, wincing softly.

“Isaac! Where are you?!” Derek yelled.

“A vault! A bank vault!” he screamed.

“Derek, let him go,” you said shakily.

“Erica...,” you looked down at him, your heartbeat quickening.

“H-Her body,” he cried.

“She’s gone,” your eyes watered quickly, taking a shaky breath.

He jumped up, screaming out in pain as he came to.

“I saw it! I saw the name!” he was freezing as he came out of the water, as you quickly wrapped a blanket around him.

You bit your lip harshly, feeling blood drip from your hand along with tears from your eyes.

“It’s Beacon Hills First National Bank,” Isaac said.

“You don’t remember what you said before you came out, do you?” Stiles said softly.

“No, what was it?” he asked.

You looked down, avoiding everyone's eyes as you took a deep breath.

“You said they pulled you into a room, and there was a body in it,” Stiles said.

“Whose body?” he asked.

“Erica’s,” you could hear your heart beating in your ears as you felt your head pounding.

You kept your head down, running out of the vet, feeling your heart shattering as your throat tightened, holding back a cry.

---

“(Y/N),” Derek called your name as he made his way through the woods, finding you.

“Go away,” you ignored him, dried tear stains on your face as you sat on top of the preserve.

“Hey,” he put his hand on your face, stroking it softly.

“Please, stop. Go,” your voice wavered as you pulled away from him.

“I’m not going to leave you,” he said.

“Leave,” you said.

“Your hand is bleeding,” Derek said, holding it.

“I’m fine,” you sniffled, pulling away from him.

“(Y/N), please,” Derek started.

“What do you want me to say?” more and more tears gathered, streaming down your face.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly.

“Stop saying that! It’s all my fault. She’s dead,” you buried your head in your hands as you cried softly.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulder.

“It’s not your fault. I’m gonna keep saying that till you believe it,” Derek said softly, pulling you into his chest.

You sobbed quietly, holding Derek tightly.

“She’s dead. She’s dead… and… Boyd is gonna die,” you cried.

“We’ll find a way to save Boyd. He’ll be okay,” Derek said softly.

He continued to hold you, calming you down as you clung onto him, crying softly.

---

“The robber used a drill to get through the wall, which took him about 12 hours to make,” Stiles explained as the four of you gathered around the table in Derek’s loft.

Peter sat on the stairs, away from all of you as Stiles continued to explain the plan.

“So, we’ll need a drill,” Stiles started.

“No, we don't. If I go in first, how much space do I have?” Derek asked.

“Are you serious? That gives you like three inches. Are you gonna punch a hole through the wall? Big strong wolf?” Stiles sassed.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed of Stiles.

“Yeah, I am,” Derek said.

You zoned out, before seeing as Stiles yelped out in pain, Derek punching his hand.

“I'll go in first. Who's following after me?” Derek asked, looking at Peter.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not at full fighting strength yet,” Peter said.

“I will,” you said.

“No,” Derek started.

Your eyes flashed purple as you glared at Derek.

“I’m going in after you,” you said.

You looked at Scott, who looked at you nervously.

“Yeah, (Y/N) should go,” he agreed.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but stay with me. Our mission is to save Boyd, not fight the alphas. Okay?” Derek said.

“I know. Come on, let’s hurry this up and get going,” your voice was cold, you knew it, but you didn’t care.

You already had two bodies on you. First your mom, now Erica. You weren’t about to make it a third.  

You walked out of the loft, Scott, and Derek following behind.

---

You, Scott, and Derek stood outside the bank, finding the right spot before Derek began breaking through the walls.

“Intermissum,” you recited a spell, your eyes glowing purple as you used magic to break down the wall, Scott and Derek looking back at you.

“Let’s go,” you walked into the vault, Derek and Scott behind you.

“Boyd?” you called, walking further into the vault.

He stood in front of you, his back turned to you.

“We’re here to get you out,” Derek said.

“Stiles now is not the time to call,” Scott whispered.

“Boyd,” you said.

“Oh shit. Uh, guys,” Scott said nervously.

You heard a soft growl, another girl walking around Boyd, standing beside him.

She wasn’t Erica, but you knew her. Something so familiar.

Your eyes widened, looking at her. You looked at Derek shakily as his eyes watered.

“Cora?”

[1989dreamer]

Chapter 20 of Looking for a Place to Call Home

This has been on AO3 for forever, but I’m starting to push to finish this story. Look for chapter 21, coming soon!

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Boyd and John sit at the table long after the dishes have been cleared away. They’re making plans to go to New York, to see if they can find Laura’s daughter.

Laura wants to go too. Derek’s not sure they’d be able to stop her. An alpha on a mission is hard to deter.

He doesn’t feel healthy enough to accompany them—too many hunger pains among other pains.

“It’s decided, then,” John declares suddenly. “I’ll book the tickets. We leave in two days—plenty of time for me to practice my aim. I used to be the best shot on the force.”

“Are you going to be allowed to travel with a firearm?” Boyd asks.

“Disassembled and in different or locked cases, yes, as long as I declare it. You know, there’s a competition out in New York. I might just be registered for it.”

“How many of us are going?” Erica asks. She looks at Laura, Cora next to her, both of them staring at John and Boyd, and then at Derek, hiding behind his sisters.

“John, me, and Laura,” Boyd says. “I’m sorry, Cora, Derek, but I think it’d be better if you stayed behind. Erica?”

“I’ll stay. Someone has to look out for them.”

“Perfect. I’ll get those tickets booked tonight.” John’s smile is broad, happy. Derek wants to warn him about the hunters and what they do to people who oppose them, but he remembers that John was their emissary before his parents were killed. He should know about hunters already.

“Will you be mad that I won’t go?” Derek asks Laura.

She hugs him. “No, I’m not mad. I’d rather you stay here, where it’s safe.”

“I can fight,” Cora interrupts. “Why can’t I go?”

“Because we barely got out last time. In fact, we weren’t even free until that deputy shot Kate.”

“But you’re going back. I want to go back too!”

“No.” Laura doesn’t shout, but her eyes go red, and Cora cowers down, eyes on the ground, neck bared.

Laura lets the red fade away. “I’m sorry, Cora. I don’t want to lose you if the hunters are swarming. I’m not even sure we’ll be able to find my daughter.”

“We’ll do our damndest,” John promises. He yawns, making Erica yawn too. “I need to get back home now.” He picks up his bag, heading for the door. “I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow so that you can tell us about where you were held. How to get in and out.”

“Good night, John.” Erica closes the door on him. She claps her hands, turning to the rest of them. “Early to bed tonight. That way we can be up early.” She shoos Boyd toward the kitchen. “Dishes, honey. The rest of you, teeth.”

There’s only one bathroom and it’s crowded. Cora and Laura keep bumping each other while Derek and Isaac stand back, brushing their teeth in sync.

Next to Isaac, watching his sisters roughhouse reminds Derek strongly of his family when his cousins visited.

He can’t remember if they all were there that day when Kate took him. He should, but he can’t.

“Hey,” he says, spraying toothpaste everywhere. “What happened to our cousins and aunts and uncles?”

“They died,” Laura says sharply. She glares at Derek in the mirror before throwing her now broken toothbrush away. “They came to help us look for you and then our house was burned down, all of us trapped inside.” She stomps away, anger swelling in her wake.

Derek rinses his mouth and brush, setting the brush in a cup labeled with his name. Cora and Isaac finish quickly, too, and Derek grabs Cora’s arm before she can escape to the room she’s sharing with Laura.

“I didn’t know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“We told you, didn’t we?”

“If you did, I don’t remember. Sorry.” He thinks he should have known, but Kate had broken his bonds, and when they’d left California, he hadn’t been able to sense his family.

Derek curls up on his bed, wondering when he’s going to feel normal. When he’s going to find his even keel, as his Aunt Miriam liked to say. He’d thought the whole time he was in New York that he was going to escape or be rescued and then come back to California to live with his family. He’d thought the bonds were muted with magic, not snapped entirely.

He hasn’t even properly mourned the loss of his family, too bust trying to heal from the damage Kate inflicted.

He covers his face and whines high in his throat. Isaac sinks down onto the bed with him, stroking a hand down his arm. He doesn’t say anything while Derek cries.

Nearly an hour passes before Derek stops sobbing. He breathes harshly through his mouth, nose too clogged to be of use.

“Do you want some water?” Isaac asks. Derek nods, and Isaac goes to the bathroom to fill a cup from the tap.

Derek sits up to drink it, and Isaac watches him with a curious look on his face.

“What?” Derek asks when he’s finished the water and set the cup, the one his brush was in earlier, on the bedside table.

“What’s it like being a werewolf?”

Derek pauses, thinking about it. Before Kate, he would have talked about his enhanced senses, the way they can heal minor wounds in seconds and major ones in hours or days, the way pack became attuned to each other, all of them striving to help each other. Now, he doesn’t know what to say. Does he tell Isaac that the hunters aren’t worth the trouble of being stronger, faster, or more resilient than a human?

He opens his mouth to ask Isaac what he means, but Isaac beats him to it, saying, “I guess what I mean is, I might like to become a werewolf someday.”

Derek looks at him curiously. “How do you know that we can turn you into a werewolf?”

Isaac shrugs. “Can you?”

“I can’t. I’m just a beta.”

“What about Laura? You defer to her, so she’s in charge?”

“Yes. She’s the alpha. Only an alpha’s bite can turn others, but,” Derek lifts a finger, “there’s a chance that the bite might not take. When that happens, the bitten dies.”

“How do you know if the bite will take?”

“Before giving the bite?” Isaac nods. “I don’t know.”

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Stiles brews a fresh pot of coffee while he is on gold with the National Registry of Missing Persons. It’s late, he’s tired, and he still doesn’t know whose body they pulled out of the preserve.

He’s waiting on the okay to talk to Peter Hale, but his lawyer, none other than the famous defense attorney, David Whittemore, is dragging his feet. Possibly because Stiles interrupted his dinner with his visiting son.

Stiles doesn’t care. Jackson Whittemore, real estate mogul, is as unimportant to Stiles now as he was in high school when he was head jock and dating the most popular girl in school until she dumped him for her best friend. Jackson never quite recovered after Lydia’s public breakup, and he’d seemed to blame Scott and Stiles for his misfortune.

God damn, high school never ends, Stiles thinks bitterly.

“Still there, sir?” the NRMP employee asks, and Stiles confirms he is. “Okay, so there’s too many results to go through tonight, so I’ll have to give you an update in maybe a week. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“No, it’s okay. It was a long shot anyway. Thanks.” Stiles hangs up and tries to ignore the welling frustration. Getting angry won’t help anyone. He sinks into a chair, running both hands through his hair and down his face. “Crap,” he says. “What’s next?”

The man’s face is going on a bulletin tonight to run on the early news tomorrow morning to see if anyone recognizes him. His DNA and fingerprints are with the proper departments, but that could take months. Dental has also been sent out, but unless he was local, within a one hundred mile radius, they won’t have an answer back for weeks or months.

All of this can be narrowed down if Stiles can just find who they’re looking for.

He lets his head drop to the table, staring cross-eyed at the grain of the wood.

He is so exhausted, and they’ve only been on this case for two or three days. God, what if it drags on for days.

The coffee machine beeps, and Stiles hauls himself to it to grab a mug. He pours enough milk in it to cool it down, and then drains it in one long swallow.

At this point, coffee is useless. Stiles needs sleep. But before that, a shower. He’s feeling a little ripe right now.

All deputies keep a change of clothes here in case of emergency, and Stiles grabs his on the way to the showers in the basement.

The hot water helps him relax, and he spends a few minutes just letting it soak him.

He thinks again of the man stick on the tree. What if Peter isn’t the only Hale who knows who he is?

Stiles shuts off the water and dries off quickly. Derek spent three years in New York under Kate Argent’s thumb. Laura and Cora were with a different faction. The man obviously had some connection to them all since Peter had killed.

Stiles silences the tiny voice of doubt about Peter’s guilt. The man would have been partially eaten if it were a wild animal, and he wouldn’t have been skewered onto the branch as if a large creature had lifted him and set him there.

Stiles decides he needs to talk to the Hale kids tomorrow. For now, he’s going to go over the Hale fire papers and research every name that ever ended up being associated with it. Sleep is the last thing on his mind even though it’s his body’s only thought.

He runs into Kincaid and Ramirez on his way to the evidence room.

“Acting Sheriff Parish said we were to escort you home,” Kincaid explains, Like Stiles gives a rat’s ass.

He pauses thinking. Six eyes is better than two. “I’ll go home,” he says, “if you help me with something first.”

The rookies exchange an apprehensive look. Stiles takes mercy on them. “I’m working on identifying the body we found out in the preserve. I’ve got an idea that he had something to do with the house fire out that way three years ago.”

“Why do you think that, sir?” Ramirez asks.

Stiles shrugs. “It’s too much of a coincidence. The body was located near the house.”

“So you think this guy set it or something?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t even know his name.”

“But you think it’s in the file on the fire.” Ramirez and Kincaid exchange another look, far less apprehensive this time. They shrug in unison.

“We’re in,” Ramirez says. “I’m guessing you just want lists of names with how they relate to the fire?”

“You guess correctly.”

                                                                                                                     ~ * ~

MP, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

[manythingsoflittlesignificance]

the one where the pack is a #fail

Ok so AU where the pack is all alive, in their mid-20s, done with college. Scott, no longer wanting the responsibility of being Alpha, figured out with Stiles’ help how to magically transfer his status to Derek and joined his pack. Most of the group have moved back to Beacon Hills after graduating and have local jobs while the remaining members (Lydia, Danny, Kira, and Isaac) stay in contact and try to come home a couple of times a year. It’s during one of the super rare times everyone is home and they’re having a pack barbeque and movie night in the rebuilt Hale house and they’ve all been drinking a little so they’re loose and happy and having fun, when Danny innocently asks Stiles and Derek to stick out their hands because he wants to see something. The two, confused but unsuspecting of any mischief from Danny (maybe he’s taking a crack at palm-reading?), immediately put out their hands and before they know it, they’re shackled together with handcuffs. Danny crows in victory and Jackson is just sitting there grumbling “I can’t believe it was actually that easy what the hell.” Everyone is laughing and Stiles and Derek are just stunned and have no idea what’s happening.

Stiles is the first one to say something. “I don’t understand… was this some type of dare? Am I being punk’d?”

And Scott responds, “you two are going to stay like that until you get your shit together because We the Pack are collectively sick of you guys.”

Instead of looking surprised or annoyed, both Stiles and Derek just look even more confused.

“What do you mean? Stiles and I are fine, nothing’s wrong.” says Derek and now Erica has just about had it with this bullshit.

“GOOD LORD, just admit you’ve been pining for each other FOR YEARS and this will all finally be over and the rest of us can go back to watching Boyd and Jackson cry about Elle Woods while you two make out.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence. Derek and Stiles and exchange a brief look and then Stiles says “Erica… Derek and I are going to admit no such thing. Because it’s not true. I mean what we have is definitely one of the most important relationships in my life but—”

“—we’re pack. Of coursewe have love for each other. We work well together and we understand each other’s priorities. It’s significant, obviously, but we certainly have not been pininglike characters in some cheap harlequin novel.” Derek looks annoyed.

“You do spend an awful lot of time staring at each other when the other isn’t looking,” observes Boyd.

“I mean come on, you guys can’t really be this clueless!” Allison explodes. “You basically run this pack together. You go grocery shopping together, you cuddle.”

“Yeah, so? I cuddle with everyone! I’m a tactile guy, don’t judge me! If you’re going to follow that logic, the why doesn’t anyone think Scott and I have unresolved feelings?” He turns to Scott and waggles his eyebrows.

Scott is unperturbed. “Nothing unresolved about us, bro. But don’t deflect. I know you, ok? You haven’t dated or hooked up with anyone new in ages! You’ve been too busy obsessing over taking care of this pack and hanging out with Derek all. the. freaking. time!”

“Yeah and it’s been ages since Derek’s last been with someone, too, and you both always smell sickeningly happy around each other” Malia pitches in.

“Watch it, Malia, unless you want everyone to know how your last fling really ended,” Derek snaps back.

“Derek do NOT bring that shit up again, it’s been more than two years!”

“So you’ve been single for two years and yet nobody seems to think you’repining after another pack member?”

“Yeah! Malia and Isaac have been single even longer than us! So how come it isn’t Isaac who’s cuffed to Derek right now, huh?” Stiles tries. But at this, both Derek and Isaac experience a full-body shudder and Jackson grimaces. “That’s just wrong, Stilinski.”

“Yeah ok, bad example, I take it back.”

Kira pitches in more gently. “But Stiles, you spend 70% of your time here in this house. You make everyone food and you send us care packages with cute little notes. You made sure to schedule each of us individual training time with Derek. You made us follow a chore chartand you tell us to ‘be nice to Daddy’ whenever you leave for Emissarys-related business. I mean, to the rest of us it seems like you’ve been wife-ing Derek up pretty hard.”

“WIFE-ING? This is blatant pigeon-holing! I didn’t realize caringfor the packmeant I’d be strapped to this…this narrow-ass label. I may have mother-hen tendencies but I am nobody’s wifey.”

It’s at this point that the lupine members of the pack begin to realize that neither Derek nor Stiles have had a single errant heartbeat throughout the entire conversation. No elevated pulses, no betraying smells. They’ve just been calmly and comfortably sitting next to each other on the couch, like they always do. The pack starts feeling awkward and wrong-footed. Were they wrong, after all? Maybe Stiles and Derek really were just good friends. Really, weirdly close,  platonic friends.

“Listen, everyone, I think you’ve just been reading this all wrong. Stiles and I are not mad, but can you please just uncuff us so we can forget about this and continue having a good night?” Derek tries again.

But Lydia doesn’t want to accept defeat so easily.

“There’s just one more thing we haven’t addressed. You guys are clearly attracted to one another. Stiles, you’ve even told me as much.”

“Well, sure. Derek is a handsome man, I think that’s just an objective fact.”

“You once told me you wanted to rip off his shirt and lick his nipples at least once before you died.”

“LYDIA oh my god! I was drunk! Ugh. Fine, ok, so I think Derek is sexy, what of it.”

“So? You’re best friends…” she ignores Scott’s indignant shout, “…you have domestic routines, you find each other sexually appealing, why not explore the potential? Give it an honest attempt, test the waters.”

“And how do you expect us to test it out, exactly? What, are we supposed to make out or something?” asks Derek.

“Hmm, or something,” Lydia murmurs.

She’s met with complete silence in the room. She tries to stare down Stiles, implicitly challenging him, and is surprised to see that he looks... smug? He has a faint glint in his eyes and she can’t quite place what it means. Something along the lines of “challenge fucking accepted.” She supposes that will work in her favor. The idiot wouldn’t understand romance if it bit him in the ass, and it was her job as his best friend to force him to view his relationship with Derek under a different light.

It’s Erica who breaks the silence. “I mean, it’s not a bad idea. I certainly wouldn’t mind watching,” she says, leering.

“This is not what I was expecting to happen, but I fully endorse the proceedings,” Danny chimes in.

“Are you telling me, if I make out with Derek right now, we can put an end to all this nonsense?”

The pack all seem to be convinced, all of them shrugging and nodding their heads as if this idea makes complete sense.

“You’re all fucking bonkers.” Having expressed his indignation, Stiles turns to face Derek. “Let’s get this over with?”

“You don’t have to act like it’s torture, Stiles, we’ve done scarier things.” Derek turns to the pack. “What, are you all just going to watch?”

He’s just met with impatient glares.

“I’m going to incrementally add 5 suicides to your workouts every day for the rest of the year.” And before anyone can respond he turns around—and carefully maneuvering their positions because of the handcuffs—he picks Stiles up, deposits him on his lap, and kisses him.

They kiss. And they keep kissing. After a few seconds, the pack realizes there hasn’t been any elevation in either of their heart rates, and neither of them seem particularly aroused. There’s no tell-tale blip of excitement. In fact, their pulses are weirdly sedate, almost calm. The two are somehow…completely unbothered.

The pack slowly feels awkwardness creep back in. Isaac looks away first. Lydia looks absolutely bewildered and defeated. Allison looks like someone kicked her puppy. Even Boyd looks somewhat disappointed. They’d all hoped…

Jackson’s the first one to break. “Ok! God, stop, you’ve proven your point. So you guys have not secretly been lusting after each other. We were wrong.”

Stiles turns back around to face the pack and he looks fucking victorious. Lydia was right, his wide-grinned expression is as smug as she’s ever seen it, like he just won some game. She just doesn’t understand, if this was all just a stupid misunderstanding, why was proving them wrong such a big deal to him? He’s practically vibrating with his success and frankly, it’s unfitting to the situation at hand. He climbs off Derek’s lap and looks expectantly at Danny. “Unlock us now, please?”

Danny quietly obliges, and Stiles and Derek breathe out simultaneous sighs of relief and go back to sitting with their arms around each other on the couch. Everyone else kind of lingers awkwardly for a few seconds, nobody making eye-contact until Derek says, “All right guys, sorry your little experiment didn’t work out but more importantly, we just missed the entire Bend-and-Snap routine.” And with that, everyone settles back into their positions and turns back to the movie.

A few minutes pass before Lydia hears Stiles stifling giggles behind her. She turns around to glare at him, only to see that now Derek is also straining to fight back his laughter. At seeing her bemused face, Derek loses it. His loud bark of laughter disrupts the just-settled atmosphere.

“What is so funny?” Erica seethes, “please share with the class.”

“I can’t! I just can’t—believe—” Stiles is gasping, struggling to get out words. “—I can’t believe you all honestly thought—we’ve been pining for years. To be honest, I am severely disappointed in your skills of observation and deduction.”  He turns to Derek who is clutching his stomach and trying to calm himself down. “Derek, you really do have to up the game with their training. I mean, to have all the pieces and arrive at the completely wrong conclusion, I just don’t understand.”

Everyone is watching them, completely confused. Here it comes, Lydia thinks. She can’t believe that there was something she had missed. Derek, his laughter finally dying out, grins at his pack.

“I honestly don’t know how you all failed this badly. Guys, Stiles and I have been boning on the regular since he graduated.”

“Yeah and I especially don’t understand how you missed this fucking RING that I have been sporting for the last WEEK. complete failwolves, iswtg”

the pack’s reaction: 

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