#laura was right he is not the brightest

[knittinglizards]

jamesss 🤦

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Any rec for sterek fic in which Derek and Stiles knew each other before the fire?

Hi @dyke-yoonji! I sure do.

Shopping Cart Memories by osointricate

(1/1 I 807 I General)

For Autumn, who needed "more stiles had a cute kiddy crush on derek way back when” fic."

Shades Pulled Shut by OverMyFreckledBody

(1/1 I 1,530 I General)

Derek was there when Stiles' mom died.

Now it's Stiles' turn to be there for Derek.

Tiny Spark, Mighty Flame by eevylynn

(3/? I 4,833 I Teen)

Among born werewolves, it was common knowledge that the prime age for a human to endure the bite of an Alpha and survive was typically during their teenage or young adult years. In fact, the youngest recorded case of a bite resulting in a transformation and not death was previously eleven years old, so imagine the Hale pack’s astonishment when they learned of a small seven year old who was bitten and miraculously survived, challenging the known boundaries of possibility.

one, two, breathe by nemonight

(1/1 I 10,880 I Not Rated)

Empaths are cursed with great power and most don’t know it. Stiles never had anyone to tell him that he was an empath but he knew what he could feel was not all human. Stiles always thought that he couldn’t be the only one who was special. Turns out he was right.

Believing in Yesterday by Antistalgic

(6/? I 12,632 I Teen)

Derek was driving through the city when he suddenly hears a cry that made his wolf howl with pain. He barely manages to park before running to the source and finding little Stiles sitting on the pavement with a bloody scrape on his knee and tears in his eyes.

All But The Brightest Stars by useyrwordsderek

(6/? I 24,658 I Explicit)

Derek Hale met Stiles Stilinski when Stiles was six years old and Derek was sixteen, when Derek’s mother babysat Stiles after Stiles’ mom died. They didn't see each other again until Scott McCall was turned, ten years later.

In which Derek and Stiles both have to become a little less broken before they can help each other and themselves.

Burning House by witchgrassi

(1/1 I 46,113 I Not Rated)

For as long as he can remember, Stiles Stilinski has dreamt of the house in the woods.

Cruel Summer by PotatoJam64

(100/100 I 193,322 I Mature)

Scott gets bitten by what he claims was a wolf, but there are no wolves in California okay?

But there are Werewolves.

Derek Plays Lacrosse, Stiles has a massive crush on the man, and Scott's is the hot girl... (They're all 16 years old and in high school)

Burn with hellfire in the blue light of midnight by babisays

(20/20 I 203,189 I Teen)

Stiles met the Hale siblings when he was eleven years old. Now it has been six years since he lost his best friend Cora in the fire, and Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills.

Six years was a long time, so he didn't think he would ever see them again, but now he was wondering what the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills.

[vroomvroommuppett]

two

andrew garfield x ex!wolff oc & george russell x wolff!oc

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masterlist

kofi

pateron

send an ask or reblog to tell me what you think, and/or what you think could happen

likes and reblogs are encouraged!

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dailymail

liked by andrewgarfieldfan, user2, and others

dailymail Amidst his divorce, Andrew Garfield was seen out with his rumored girlfriend, Dr. Kate Tomas, who is a professional witch. They looked very cozy on their night out. What do you think?

tagged: andrewgarfield, drkatetomas

user1 i beg your biggest pardon?

user2 A PROFESSIONAL WITCH?!

landonorris Lol

user3 LANDO?! landonorris I like drama

jamiedornan I have no words

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ellawolffprivate

liked by iamrebeccad, lilymhe, and others

ellawolffprivate me when i found out about his new relationship

landonorris How did he go from you to her?

fernandoalo_offcial I have no words

sebastianvettel She seems interesting

georgerussell63 Toto just spit his water out when we showed him

ellawolffprivate as he should

lewishamilton You also called me having a hysterical laughing fit about it

ellawolffprivate not my brightest moment

jamiedornan They're oposites but I guess oposites attract, even if they cheat

jamiedornan Also the kids are wondering how you're doing

ellawolffprivate MY BABIES I MISS THEM. I can get you paddock passes jamiedornan That'd be great.

francesca.cgomez pierre laughed when he found out

pierregasly Sue me. It was funny charles_lecerc Arthur and Lorenzo have so many questions. As do I. carlossainz55 Get in line.

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ellawolff

liked by maxverstappen1, florencepugh, and others

ellawolff healing🤍

user1 MOTHER IS BACK

florencepugh welcome back baby

ellawolff love you flo

maxverstappen1 Welcome back, El.

ellawolff thanks maximillian maxverstappen1 Not my name but I'll let it slide

francesca.cgomez wifey

ellawolff love you baby pierregasly What about me? Your boyfriend. francesca.cgomez you're my side piece

andrewandkatefan So glad he divorced you. You were never right for him.

lilymhe ok and? he's not going to notice you flavy.barla this isn't the flex you think it is honey georgerussell63 And yet he cheated. user4 they went in

lilyzneimer miss you baby

ellawolff miss you more love oscarpiastri I don't even try anymore

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mercedesamgf1

liked by ellawolff, user1 and others

mercedesamgf1 THIS IS NOT A DRILL. MINI BOSS IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK.

tagged: ellawolff

ellawolff love you admin🤍

user5 she slayed that outfit

user6 she's glowing

ellawolff it's the tears

lewishamilton We missed you!

alex_albon YES mom is back

logansargeant Come see your favorite kids in Williams.

user7 so glad she's back

andrewandkatefan ew. andrew and kate should be there, not an random influencer.

user8 who wants to tell her? ellawolff oh honey. my dad is toto wolff. why do you think they call me mini boss? and it looks like you still have pictures of him and i up when you were a fanpage for us. and they are on the "never invite" list. landonorris She read you to filth georgerussell63 I am liking this new Ella.

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tag list @ilivbullyingjeongin @2pagenumb @barcelonaloverf1life @motorsp0rt @nichmeddar @sya-skies @a-beaverhausen @magical-spit @formulaal @dark-night-sky-99 @nichmeddar @daemyratwst @callsignwidow @d3kstar @lady-laura-speaks @exotic-iris13 @xoscar03 @eternalharry @obsessed-fan-alert @that-aesthetic-chic

[demon64]

You know... when it comes to Laura Kinney and her relationships, one that is probably near nonexistent but I think would he cool to see explored is a friendship with Rockslide. Santo is a big guy with, from what I remember, a bit of a big heart. He's not the brightest but he definitely is fun. And for understandable reasons, most of Laura’s friendships is with other female characters, but I do think Santo could help her break out of her shell in a way maybe Sooraya and Cessily can't. Also, considering Rockslide’s friendship with Anole, it could be interesting to see how an unlikely friendship with Laura could form

Speaking of Anole, it could also be cool to see a friendship between and Laura. As I am writing this, I have not read the current NYX book, so if they are interacting and have a friendship in that, please inform me. Anyways, I do think it could be more than just Anole being the "gay friend." Considering he is gay and Laura, at least when they first kinda meet, the girl has little to no idea about feelings and things like having a crush, maybe he could sort of explain how sexuality is, or at least how he understands it.

Or hell, it could even be the three of them. I think Laura, Santo and Victor could be a real interesting trio under the right creative team.

[kitchenisking]

June Fic Rec❤️

Summer is almost upon us! its 40c degrees here and we are over heating. so lets enjoy the nice air conditioning and the amazing fics that these amazing author wrote! 😘

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 70382, sterek)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Not all treasure is silver and gold by princecharmingwinks  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 26597, sterek)

Captain Derek Hale is on a mission and he needs a fearless crew. His betrothed has been kidnapped, his family lives in exile and he harbours a dangerous secret. Enter Lady Erica Reyes, the perfect Quartermaster to join the crew. Erica has her own reasons for needing to escape her seaside town. An abusive father with a suggested 'arrangement' has forced her to create her own future.

A Derek and Erica friendship on the high seas, all in the name of love and family. Because not all treasure is silver and gold.

monday i can fall apart but by friday i'm in love by tryslora - (Rating: Mature, Words: 5609, sterek)

It's just past five in the morning and Stiles is barely awake, wearing only sleep pants that hang low below his pregnant belly, and he can't get the damned brand new jar of decaf coffee open. But he has a neighbor, and he's too tired to think that waking someone else up at this hour might not be the best (or politest) of ideas.

Human Things by ChloeWeird (ChloeBYoung), SylvieW - (Rating: T, Words: 10542, sterek)

Stiles keeps running into Derek, and can't leave well enough alone.

if i'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that i am? by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 13076, sterek)

When Derek’s kids write out their Christmas lists, they insist he writes one too. Not long after it's deposited in Santa's mailbox, he's reunited with the man of his dreams.

Stiles.

Derek can't help but fall for him again. It's really too bad Stiles is so obviously taken.

...or the one where Derek’s a grump who makes assumptions about his pregnant omega neighbor.

Disposition by Tulikettu - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 56104, sterek)

Stiles has an itch. A kinky, kinda dirty itch he needs to scratch. 

So why not go on the Internet and look for a complete stranger to scratch it? 

Derek needs a partner for his rut. 

What a coincidence.

I Didn't Know That I Was Starving (til I tasted you) by LadySlytherin - (Rating: Mature, Words: 4482, sterek)

Derek - who lives in New York with his older sister, Laura - is back in Beacon Hills, visiting his parents and younger sister for Christmas, when everything changes. Cora invites friends over while their parents are visiting other family, Derek drinks something he didn't know he shouldn't have, and things get a little out of control.

Misunderstandings abound, secrets are spilled, and in the end all it takes to find happiness is being brave enough to reach out with both hands and never let go.

The Rarest of Gems by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26497, sterek)

"There, somewhere, a flower grows. Its curious petals reach in curiosity, but get burned in return. It craves a soothing touch, a lover’s kiss. It is the sweetest nectar, the brightest moonlight, the most alluring starry night. It is the rarest of gems. It is your mate, alpha Hale. But beware and haste, for the flower grows among the most vicious thorns, who can’t wait to tear it apart."

Strong Alpha, Strong Pups by Snare - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7349, sterek)

Omegas are weak. Stiles is an Omega, but Stiles has magic. Stiles is strong.

Stiles is strong, so Alpha needs to be stronger. Strong Alpha, strong pups.

A Rocky Halloween by MichelleDWinchester - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 21830, sterek)

Stiles hasn't been back to Beacon Hills in a while, instead choosing to focus on his University work and internship. Now, however, Stiles is back in town for a bit of Halloween revelry with the Pack and if his risque outfit helps him discover whether or not Derek is even remotely interested in being more than 'just friends' or indeed simply Pack mates, then Stiles is all in!!

[i-believe-in-melinda-may]

How Bill and Laura first met in the universe my story is in

Twenty-Seven Years Ago

As they both had a rare join three days off leave at the same time Bill, Saul, and several of their ship mates, those they didn’t hate, decided to enjoy themselves by going to a dive bar in Picon. As he tuned out an argument going on between Saul and one of his ship mates, having known that he didn’t have to intervene unless an actual flight broke out, Bill looked around the bar and a she did he saw something that took his breath away. Standing at the bar he saw an incredibly beautiful redhaired woman who has the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. As she casually leaned against the bar Bill released that she looked like she was both out of place but completely comfortable like a incredible contradiction.

“I’ll get the next round,” Bill said before quickly downing the rest of his drink and heading to the bar, having walked straight to the woman who something inside of him told him he had to get to know. “What’s a girl like you doing here?” Bill asked, and the second he finished the words he realised, thanks to the less than impressed look that was clear on the woman’s face, that he made a grave mistake.

“Wow, that’s an awful line, but coming from a viper jock I’m not overly surprised,” the women responded and for just a second Bill was confused about how she could know that about him but then he realises that he has a patch on his jacket.

“Well, I could quote Edward Prima but most people aren’t receptive to that,” Bill comments, trying a different tactic and for a second the woman looks impressed.

“Seem like you’re not meeting the right people then,” the women said in response, turning to actually look at him, and Bill realised that she was even more beautiful than he first thought.

“Guess not, but I get a feeling that’s about to change, Bill Adama,” Bill says, offering his hand for her to shake.

“Laura Roslin,” Laura responds shaking his hand. “Can you really quote Edward Prima or is that just another line?” Laura asked curious.

“His entire work,” Bill confirmed as since being on the merchant ship he has had a lot of time to read.

“That I’d like to hear, except for Dark Day, I haven’t read it yet, I’m saving it for the right time,” Laura said.

“Then you won’t hear anything about it form me,” Bill responds, and the two of them spent the rest of the night at a table in that dingy bar talking books. Even though Laura was on at trip to celebrate the end of the school year with some teacher friends of her the three of them spent practically every minute of the next three days together, and by the time he went back to his ship Bill Adama knew, without a doubt, that he would love Laura Roslin for the rest of his life.

[fearthereaperx]

WHERE: Stargaze Station WHEN: October 2000

Michael Monroe didn’t have the slightest comprehension of what he was doing, though judging by the stern set of his jaw and his steady, forward facing eyes, no one would have ever known. It was only apparent in the little tells– the way he occasionally reached up to scratch at the stubble lining his jaw, or how his hands tensed with a reflexive need for a cigarette. To anyone else, Michael would have appeared as calm and composed as he always was, but inside? He was reeling.

He didn’t know how to be a father. How could he when he’d never had an example to follow? Without that blueprint in mind, Michael had no idea how to confront his new reality– the one in which his sister had overdosed on heroin and god only knew what else, and he’d been called upon to pick up the pieces. He hardly knew where to begin, but as he glanced over at his fifteen year old now motherless nephew and noted the way the glow of moonlight betrayed the smallest glimpses of the grief that consumed the boy, Michael knew that he had to try.

He just didn’t know where to start.

Admittedly, Michael didn’t know much about Cole, and he knew that was largely by his own doing. When Diana had told him she was pregnant all those years ago and who the father was, Michael had done what any brother would have. He’d gotten her the fuck out of Tonopah Valley. And then he’d done the thing he doubted he’d ever fully forgive himself for– he’d stepped back. He’d stepped back and let Diana fend for herself hundreds of miles away when she hadn’t been in a position to do it.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty– naturally– and as Michael looked back, he knew the decision he’d made hadn’t been the right one. He’d allowed selfishness to guide it– the Sons of Silence had been in its infancy and he, along with the other founding members, had desperately been chasing that dream into a reality. The short and long of it was that he’d pushed all of his focus at the club, rather than his own flesh and blood.

"See that?” Michael began, gesturing up at one of the constellations overlooking the valley. “That's Orion, and just below him, there’s Sirius, one of the brightest stars we can see from down here. Something, ain't it?" He’d always liked the stars, for more reasons than he could possibly name. They were a nice reminder of how vast the universe really was, and how small he was in comparison. In a lot of ways, it helped him scale his problems, one by one. Not make light of them, no, but place them in a way that made it all seem that much easier to manage.

"Guess so,” came the mumbled reply from the teen at his side.

One thing he’d noticed about Cole? He didn’t say much. And that was fine– Michael had grown quite accustomed to leading conversations over the years and had learned to take certain cues for exactly what they were. Glancing over at his nephew, he eased out a long sigh and reached into the inside pocket of his cut, hauling out a worn pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter. Setting a smoke between his lips, he offered another to Cole, already hearing Laura scolding him inside his head, but for half a heartbeat? He didn’t think about the consequences– particularly how much Laura would have his ass for offering their nephew a smoke– but perhaps that was because it didn’t take a genius to realize that Cole had already smoked his fair share.

"Y'know why I like coming out here?" Michael continued, picking up where Cole’s silence had left off. “When I’m at my worst, I like to look up there,” he paused then, gesturing up at the deep indigo night sky and the bright stars that dappled it. “For every star I see, I try to think of something good. It’s almost like I sorta assign ‘em, in a way,” he explained, shrugging a shoulder. When he said it out loud, Michael figured it probably sounded silly, and maybe it was to a degree, but it helped steady him when little else seemed to work. “When I need reminding of everything that’s good in the middle of everything bad, and I need something to ground me? I just look up, and I can name ‘em one by one.” Perhaps it was just a more elaborate way of saying count your blessings, especially in a life that afforded so few of them. 

"But more than that, you see how vast all of that is? Reminds me of how small I am,” he started again, hoping that the message was coming across the way that Cole needed to hear it. "Not insignificant, no. But it’s got a way of putting things into perspective– makes you realize just how much of this world is out of your control.” If he wanted Cole to take anything away from his monologue, it was that, because he knew what his nephew was thinking, what he was feeling, without him uttering a single word. There was a name for that weight he saw in Cole’s eyes. It wasn’t just sadness, or grief. It was guilt– something Michael knew so well and could spot from miles away. In this situation, it wasn’t justified– Cole hadn’t done anything wrong, he hadn’t let his mother down in some way– but still, Michael could understand why the boy felt it anyway. It was the way he was wired. Like Michael, Cole felt everything so deeply– whatever emotion it was, he tapped into the deepest parts of it and felt it on a visceral level…and because of that, Cole would always be in pain, just as Michael was.

Peeling his eyes away from the night sky, he eyed Cole, a soft frown sinking between his brows, "What happened with your mom wasn’t your fault, Cole. You know that, right?"

Beside him, the boy unleashed a smoke stained sigh and shrugged, "Ain't so sure," he muttered, head shaking before he swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.

“I am,” Michael countered, glancing down at him with a raised brow, “If that means something to you.” He liked to think that it did if only because he hoped it might bring Cole some measure of comfort. Maybe it might relieve him of some of the weight he carried on his shoulders. "Your mother was a complicated woman," he continued, sighing heavily, "Complicated kinda runs in our blood, in case you hadn't figured that out already." He’d never known a Monroe to live simply, or breathe easily. It just wasn’t in their DNA, he was convinced of it. They were all complicated people, stubborn, and hard to love, and yet somehow, they carried on. Softening then, Michael found himself smiling in spite of the somber turn the conversation had taken, "But one thing that wasn't complicated was the love she had for you. It was the single most straightforward thing about her." 

Admittedly, Michael and Diana had grown apart over the years, and it was something he wasn’t proud of. It haunted him, really– if he was being completely honest about it. But on those rare occasions when they did talk and catch up, all Diana ever talked about was her son. It wasn’t about the big things though– no, Diana told him about the finer things, those that required a keen eye to pick up on. She told him all about Cole’s expressions and what certain ones meant, and about how she’d always known when something was bothering him when the way the warmth of his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Diana saw all the things Cole probably thought she didn’t– because she loved him. 

"Your mom had a passion for life unlike anything I've ever seen,” Michael murmured, raising his cigarette to his lips and inhaling a long drag.

“So why’d she run from it?” Cole fired back without missing a beat. 

It was a fair shot, Michael figured. Diana’s death looked an awful lot like a suicide, but he had a hard time believing that his sister had set out to end her life. He wanted to believe it was a miscalculation, an honest mistake on her part. Or maybe that was just what Michael kept telling himself to hold his own guilt back. After being so absent from Diana’s life for so long, how would he even recognize the difference? “I don’t think she meant to, Cole,” he offered, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more– Cole, or himself.

“How ya figure?”

It was a loaded question, but not an unexpected one. The bitterness sneaking in between each word wasn’t unexpected either. Michael shook his head, knowing neither one of them would ever know for sure, but he liked to think Diana hadn’t done it on purpose. That reality was one he couldn’t bear to stomach. “Because she would’ve never left you intentionally, no matter how awful things got,” he offered, shrugging a shoulder. Michael had to believe that the love Diana had for her son outweighed her demons, but even as he sat there, trying to convince Cole of that, he knew just how troubled his sister had been– how deeply she hurt. 

“It’s easy to feel angry. In your shoes? Hell, I’d probably feel the same way. Feels easier than facing the hurt, sure,” Michael started up again, switching gears the slightest bit. He couldn’t take back what happened to Diana, nor could he explain it. But what he could do was try and get through to his nephew– a boy who knew more hurt than he should ever have to and who’d been forced to grow up long before he was ever supposed to. “But hurt ain’t a bad thing– not if you grow from it. And you’ve got a real shot at doin’ that now.”

Still, even as he said it, Michael knew that was easier said than done. Diana had been all Cole had ever known for his entire life and within an instant, she was gone and his world had flipped on its axis. He’d been sent to live across the country with an aunt and uncle he didn’t know. He could only imagine how overwhelming it was, how angering and frightening. Whatever Cole felt, Michael figured he had full rights to it. “I know your world’s been flipped upside down, son,” he murmured, reaching over to tuck an arm around the teen’s shoulders, “You’ve got every right to be twisted up, spun out– whatever the case may be.” But he didn’t want those feelings to bulldoze the warmer memories of his mother. Cole deserved a softer landing than that– he deserved to think about his mother and not hate every second of it, or hurt. It wouldn’t happen overnight, Michael knew that, but he hoped that one day, Cole could remember the good before the bad– the beginning before the end.  “I ain’t ever gonna tell you how to feel, but I will say this,” Michael started, tossing his dying cigarette down into the dirt. “I dunno if it’ll ever make sense, if it’ll ever not hurt…but I’m here every step of the way, alright? We don’t know each other all that well, but I’ve got you, Cole– I’ve got ya.” Shaking his head, he glanced down at his nephew, and when he did, the sight before him damn near broke his heart. That sad, lost look in Cole’s eyes had only grown, finally reaching that point where it was bound to spill over. He could see Cole holding it back, fighting to keep his tears at bay, but as one managed to slip and slide down his face, Michael only held the boy tighter and swallowed hard when Cole clung back to him, nestling himself against his side. “Your mother was more than the worst thing she ever did– some of us are.” Michael had to believe that– it was the only way he could reconcile with what he was and the awful things he did. "And before you let her go, I hope you look for her– for who she really was," he murmured, reaching up to wipe that stray tear away. "Think you'll see a lot of yourself whenever you do." Michael smiled then because even in the midst of his grief, he’d been able to spot the similarities between his sister and his nephew. In a lot of ways, Diana was still very much alive through him. "And that ain't a bad thing."

[sinceileftyoublog]

Pernice Brothers Interview: Writing to Live

Joe Pernice; Photo by Colleen Nicholson

BY JORDAN MAINZER

The album cover for Who Will You Believe (New West), the first album in 5 years from Pernice Brothers, features a close-up photo of a man who doesn't "care about being seen." That man, of course, is Joe Pernice, who formed Pernice Brothers over 25 years ago after the breakup of his beloved alt country institution Scud Mountain Boys. But while Pernice may be indifferent-to-averse to the idea of celebrity or even public persona, he's not trying to remain hidden, per se. The photo that graces the cover doesn't attempt to be flattering, nor a clean-cut design: It asymmetrically cuts off the brim and top of his hat, his right glasses lens frame, the bottom of his chin, and the back of his head. (Of course, the band name and album title is superimposed on his face.) It makes you pay more attention to Pernice than you otherwise would. What is he looking at? Why? In a way, it really fits Who Will You Believe, a record that exists on a separate plane from today's singer-songwriter albums that tend to be straight diary entries combined with biography or filled with Easter eggs and callbacks. Instead, Pernice, an accomplished writer in many different mediums, shows that he can write about almost anything. The possibilities are infinite.

When I spoke to Pernice over the phone earlier this month, he let me know that he was in the middle of a particularly fruitful period. "I've been writing more songs than I ever have in my life," he said. "I go through these periods where I have a manic blast." Indeed, whether or not Who Will You Believe was born from one of these spurts, the album gives you a sense for how he works. Neko Case duet "I Don't Need That Anymore" started with an off-hand remark his mom made about having a good figure when she "needed it;" Pernice took the line and turned it into a devastating country track about a dying love, replete with twangy, chiming guitars, string swells and steady mallet percussion. He processes the deaths of three important people--his cousin, Rhino executive Gary Stewart, and David Berman--in stunning strummer "The Purple Rain", referencing the last one not with cutesy lyrical winks and nods but ones that even casual Silver Jews/Purple Mountains listeners will pick up, respectfully showing his intentions to pay tribute. Of course, Pernice still finds room for ambiguity, clever wordplay, and fun atop it all, a true songwriter's songwriter. His penchant for cultural allusions remains strong, even in conversation. Referring to a recent day where he wrote 5 songs in a day, 3 of them keepers, Pernice said, " I felt like Sylvia Plath at the end of her life when he was in a manic state of making shit," before clarifying, deadpan, "That was before she put her head in the oven."

Sure, there are some tracks on Who Will You Believe that are purely sad or strange. Pernice croons on the slow "What We Had", atop acoustic guitars, tremolo electric plucking, and tambourine, "It's a comedy of errors, but it's sad / I think of what we had / It's hard to watch good love go bad." Instrumental waltz "A Song for Sir Robert Helpmann", meanwhile, juxtaposes strings, keys, drum rolls, and wordless vocalization, creepy and lurking. Its mood is inspired by Pernice's fear of Helpmann's role as The Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. "That movie scared the shit out of me when I was a kid," he said. "[Helpmann's] absolutely terrifying." Though these tunes occupy a singular mood, though, for the most part, Who Will You Believe is a fun album, Pernice's brightest and loosest sounding in years. "I always play with people who are good people. I've never made a record with an asshole," Pernice said. "When you get really good players who aren't just phoning it in, it's really cool." Past collaborators pervade the album, such as Joe's brother Bob and wife Laura Stein (formerly of Halifax indie pop band Jale). Toronto-based choral group Choir! Choir! Choir! help Pernice give his eulogies on "The Purple Rain", ending the album on an uplifting note. And his pop sensibilities, Beatles, Bowie, and Bacharach influences shine on "Not This Pig" and "A Man of Means", songs with baroque breakdowns and bouncy drum fills.

Ultimately, Pernice is one of those songwriters who views music as a satisfying puzzle. Though he writes all of his songs on acoustic guitar, theoretically making them easy to play solo live, the tunes undoubtedly shapeshift as he records them. He describes a song like "Hey, Guitar" as "a balls-out, heavy tune"--it's got massive electric licks layered atop jangly strumming and shiny keys, and ripping distorted squalling between verses, fading in and out at the end like an AM radio hit. "I don't think [it] will translate [live]," he said. "[But] you don't know whether [it's gonna be a train wreck] until you do it. Every song was a new song the first time." You can bet he's looking forward to figuring it out, one of the most thrilling parts of music to him. After all, it's only now he's just beginning to dive into an almost 20-year-old song, "Say Goodnight to the Lady" from 2005's Discover A Lovelier You. "I've been working on it lately, and it's started to feel like my song."

Pernice; Photo by Colleen Nicholson

I knew that Pernice had written at least "The Purple Rain" as part of a mourning process, but reading about the context behind Who Will You Believe, I tried to see if I could construct something more broad. Before writing the record, his son retired from playing high-level youth baseball, which Pernice coached, and Pernice went from being on a baseball diamond most of the week for over half of the year, to not being on one at all. As such, I asked him whether songwriting is a way for him to generally process any sort of life change. As it turns out, it's much more. "I write songs so I can manage to function," he said. "It's just a necessary thing for my well-being. It could be anything. The act of doing it is the thing that makes me feel good and not crazy. A lot of times, the subject might not even be all that important in that regard." And so I thought back about the album cover, wondering what Pernice was gazing at during the photoshoot, realizing that, too, doesn't matter. What he feels about songwriting is the way I feel about listening. Both of us--all of us--are just trying to take in the world as best as we can.

[lfc21]

The 1st family sleepover

You and trent had been dating for around a year now, you had fallen in love with him and also his family. Every Sunday you would go round to trents families house and enjoy a Sunday roast which was very traditional and very English. There wasn't one Sunday where you had missed being together for tea and it was probably one of the nicest things you where apart off. At the moment yours and trents house was undergoing a huge amount of building work as trent and you where expanding the house and making it your forever home. As the work was going to take the best part of a weekend and throughout the weekdays dianne (trents mum) thought it would be a wonderful idea if you slept over, and you couldn't agree more.

"Muuuuum where here!" Trent shouted right next to you pulling far to many bags through the hall just to get lashed at the bottom of the stairs much to his mums dismay. Dianne came running in with the brightest smile on her face at the arrival of what trent thought was him.

"Oh hello darling" dianne cheered hugging you tightly like she always does completely missing trent. Trents face fell open and laughed slightly at the fact he couldn't believe what had just happened yet again infront of him.

"Thanks mum" trent mumbled walking off into the living room to his dad and brothers.

"Hmmm?" She questioned as she didn't listen to a word trent had said. You laughed and ushered her into the kitchen for privacy as she had a million and one things to tell you about work.

"Have you heard anything else about Stacey?" You asked as you pulled out a chair in the kitchen whilst dianne switched the kettle on.

"Oh I have! You wount believe it honestly" she cheered pulling out two mugs for a cup of tea, you laughed to yourself as you knew how good dianne was at getting good gossip which was something trent lacked as all he could just about do was realise what person you where talking about.

"Noooo!" You said in disbelief as you didn't think the gossip could get any worst.

"Yeeeeah! You know how her husband David was suspecting something going on behind his back? Well turns out he was right! And she was carrying on with Steven from work!" Dianne announced carrying two cups of tea over to the small table you where sat at with her jaw being dragged across the floor as it still had her shocked even after thinking about it for days on end. Your mouth fell open is disbelief as you couldn't believe the news.

"You don't mean Steven the cleaner Steven?" You asked in complete shock resulting in dianne giving you a simple yet very effective nod.

"Noooooooo!" You shouted with your eyes piercing into diannes face.

"Apparently Kathy was working over time in the office and was making her way out when she noticed Stacey's office door wide open and she was there kissing Steven!" She replied back giving a few more details at the unbelievable news. You took a sip of your tea with your eyes burst open at your mother in laws words.

"What you ladies chatting about?" Trent asked walking into the kitchen proceeding to jump onto the counter for a seat.

"About how rude you are for sitting on the counter tops" trents mum admitted with a laugh as trent would forever be a cheeky kid doing whatever he pleased. Michael (trents dad) and trents older brother (Tyler) walked in to find out what the chatting was all about from you two.

"Babe, your mum has just told me about Stacey! She's been sleeping with Steven" you said to trent as he was half way across the kitchen on the counters looking threw his phone.

"Stacey who? I thought it was Laura who was cheating on her husband" trent said with a confused look on his face as he didn't understand what you meant and who you where actually talking about.

"Trent if I was you I'd stay out of your mother's gossip its only confusing" Michael admitted from the fridge scanning the options he could have.

"Oh shush will you" dianne said causing trent to laugh at his parents bickering. Trent jumped off the counter walking over to you with a smile on his face like he wanted something from you.

"What?" You asked knowing that face only ment one thing.

"Sit on my knee, my arse hurts on that counter" he admitted causing his mum to shake her head at trents proposal.

"Well thats because it's not made to be sat on" you said standing up and waiting for him to get comfy on the dinning room chair. Trents hands found your waist and pulled you down onto his lap feeling very satisfied with himself as he got what he wanted.

-

After many hours of eating and sharing gossip you had accumulated over the past weeks you had all decided to watch a film. Trents brother had left and that left you with just you two and his parents watching a classic - dirty dancing.

"Oh trent me and your dad used to be able to do that when we where your age" trents mum said from the other couch with a laugh of honesty. Trent shuck his head at his mother's confession as he really didn't find it that impressive. Trents hands made there way through your hair which was rested on his lap whilst he watched patrick swayze swish his hips across the large TV.

"Mum shhh" trent whispered with a laugh as his mum had no idea you where sound asleep on his legs. His mum gently whispered a sorry and let herself and Michael leave the room as the film had come to an end.

"We will be upstairs darling" dianne said softly walking out of the room with Michael following behind.

"Cya in the morning son" Michael said with a smile leaving you both tucked up on the couch. Trent wanted to get straight in bed (even if it was his old childhood bed which was a single!) but you just looked so delicate and peaceful. Trent reached over to the remote and switched the channel to sky sports wanting to see what was going on in his favourite world. You gently moved your body ever so slightly due to the brighter light in the room from the tv and cheers from sets of fans, you opened your eyes waking up from your accidental nap.

"Hey sleepyhead" trent whispered with a giggle as you looked up at him and rubbed your eyes like a child. You didn't mean to fall asleep but the events of the day just tired you out more than expected.

"Hi" you whispered and sat up next to your boyfriend with a smile.

"Do you wanna go up to bed or stay down here for abit?" Trent asked whilst looking at the tv and strocking up and down your bare arm next to him.

"Can we go up? I'm so tired" you giggled and got up off the comfy grey sofa. Trent turned the tv off as quickly as possible and got himself up only resulting in you stretching your arms out to him with a smile.

"Your lucky I love you" trent smuggly replied with a sarcastic smile as he picked you up and wrapped your arms and legs around his body to take you upstairs.

You and trent got up the stairs and opened the door to his childhood bedroom to all of your bags placed nicely on the floor next to his single bed.

"Shit" you whispered as you walked in and smashed your shins on the end of the bed due to the lack of space in the room. Trent laughed to himself from behind you as he knew you where going to do exactly that.

"Shhhh" trent warned whilst still laughing to himself as he watched you side step to the other end of his room to sit on his bed.

"Urrrrrgh fuck" trent shouted as he continued to do the same thing as you and smash every inch of his leg on the wood. Trents hand grabbed his leg in pain being slightly more dramatic than you and bending over in a huff.

"Oi Trent John Alexander Arnold I'll have none of that language thank you very much" trents mum warned coming out of the bathroom with her bright pink pyjamas on and a very dissappinted look on her face. Trent turned around quickly as he didn't think his mum heard the profanities which fell from his mouth.

"Sorry mum" he said back and proceeded to shut the door. Trent jumped over the bottom of the bed landing right in the middle just like he used to do as a teenager and just the sort of thing his mum used to tell him off for. You looked over at you boyfriend who had decided it was more than the best idea to take up all the space leaving you with nothing.

"You better off moved by the time I'm dressed" you said with a laugh as you pulled your hoodie and jeans off to get into some silk pyjamas. Trents eyes fell on to your body and looked like a puppy lost in the bright wide world as he looked at everything he admired about you so much.

"Whatever you want babe" he laughed moving up to the end of the bed meaning you had to roll over him to get to the other side next to the wall. You shuck your head lightly at your boyfriend not only being immature but inconsiderate.

"Move" you whispered trying to push your boyfriend which resulted in absolutely nothing. Trent shuck his head as a no and you completely gave up as all you wanted was to go to sleep and you where getting the complete opposite. You climbed over trent and managed to get to the other side squeezing yourself between the wall and him.

"Thanks for all the space babe" you sarcasticly said with a smile as you pulled the blanket to your face to get comfy.

"No problem anytime" he said back in even more off a cheeky tone. Trents hands made there way to your waist and placed his body right behind yours to cuddle you all night. Trents lips found there way onto your cheek as a way to say goodnight. You and trent where more than definitely going to have an interesting night and not in any good way.

I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave any feedback it is much appreciated!

@goldenskyeng @avenirdelight @prettylittletrent @mrs-henderson @daddyhendo @kostasstsimikass @hnrfc @travellvogue @weddingdisco

[annathesillyfriend]

Anna's August Fic Recs

Welcome to my August fic recommendations masterpost!! This has been quite a busy month for me but I'm holding onto last weeks of freedom. I am trying to read as much before uni starts and I had a pleasure of reading some brilliant fics this month. I am so excited to share them with you all! I hope your summer is going amazing and to those, who have just started classes - good luck!

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

HOLLAND & Co.

✨ Tom Holland

revenges is sweet by @t-lostinworlds

series, social media au, college!au, football player!tom, fake dating, idiots to lovers, all of our fave tropes, i am invested in this series more than i am in my own life, it's just that good

sunkissed by @duskholland

one-shot, 18+, surfer!tom x lifeguard!tom, exes to lovers, h's great mind at its finest 👏

souvenirs of the heart by @veryholland

one-shot, brought me to tears no joke, such a beutiful story, mila did such an amazing job!!

heartbreak girl by @lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+, lead singer!tom, based on 5SOS song, this is so goooood 😫😫 this story lives in my heart rent free right nextdoor to laura!!

act 1: scene 5 and 6 by @youandtom

one-shot, best friends to lovers, helping tom with learning lines, i loved this very much!

happier than ever by @vendettaparker

one-shot, tom being the great lad he is comes to save an awful date and we stan

the trial of the eldest holland by @reawritesthings

one-shot, ex!tom, welcome to the angst town! this is so deeply heartbreaking but so beautifully written!

lucky to be in love by @hollandsvogue

one-shot, rose is going staright for my silly little heart :')

slide in by @uglypastels

one-shot, frat!tom, i fall in love with this story time and time again

white winged dove by @muhollands

one-shot, 18+, conuntry!tom, insert country boy i love you vine here (also, i'd like to take this moment to kindly invite you all to go through d's whole masterlist cause it's brilliant. this mj blurb has sent me straight to hell but it's so worth it)

abide by @hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, mob!au, tom x reader x harrison, this made me feel some type of way 👁👄👁

getting ahead of ourselves by @/hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, college! lacrosse player!tom holland x tutor!reader, this is soft, this is cute, this is hot, this is everything! 12/10 would recommend

✨ Harrison Osterfield

little lune by @dovenymph

one-shot, celebrating your birthday with haz, made me want a refund for my birthday cause it's so lovely 🥺🥺

it will come back by @greenorangevioletgrass

one-shot, part of the rich kid!au series, 18+, richkid!haz x richkid!reader x actor!tom, there are no words in any language that would let me express how much i love ava and this au

✨ Harry Holland

wild side by @softholand

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, that trope was made to be written about mister harry holland, i swear

lost in your light by @spider-barnes

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, bloody lovely 💛

falling in love at a coffee shop by @/spider-barnes

one-shot, college!au, oh to fall in love with harry holland at a coffee shop 😫

hope is frightening thing by @peterplanet

one-shot, writer!reader x first da!harry, her book gets a film adaptation and harry is being is wonderful self 🥰

my forever by @unsaidholland

blurb, talking about your future with him, it's just 🥰🥰

circles by @farfromharry

one-shot, rich kid!au, enemies to lovers, so wonderful!

MARVEL

🎂 Suz's birthday fics

this total babe @samwilsons-pillowpecs gave us four beautiful gift on her birthday! we adore you, lovely 🥰 these stories are all wonderful anddeserve their own category 💛

you're the glitter in the dark

one-shot, 18+, mob!bucky

if i could touch you...

one-shot, 18+, boxer!steve

love you in a thousand ways

one-shot, 18+, ceo!sam

miss your kiss

one-shot, 18+, biker!thor

🎂@rodrikstark ’s 1.5k follower celebration!

collecion of headcanons with our favourite marvel boys as well as some other characters, i bloody love them all but my numer one has got to be joaquin teaching you spanish 😌

✨ Sam Wilson

book smart by @indyluckycharlie

one-shot, librarian!sam x PhD student!reader, such a warm and comfy little story by my dearest cate who i love very much 😌

he we go again by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, idiots in love 🥰🥰

adventures in babysitting captain america and winter solider by @princessmisery666

one-shot, reader takes the boys to disneyland and it's just so amazing!

stay awhile by @lacapucharoja

one-shot, black!reader, a saturday morning with sam 😌😌

slow motion by @ambrosiase

one-shot, 18+, sam in baggy grey sweatpants and no underwear, need i say more?

✨ Steve Rogers

bullies, bullied by @anika-ann

one-shot, my main babe is blessing us with protective steve and i love her 🥰

there's a peace in dreaming by @babycap

one-shot, i don't have the words to tell you how stunning this story is, please go read it

✨ Bucky Barnes

timer by @xbuchananbarnes

series, soulmate!au based on the movie TiMER (2009). i could go on and on about how incredible that series is but with dani it's a given, sooo 🤷‍♀️

the kids will be alright by @imaginationintowords

series, social media au, lawyer!bucky x interior designer!reader, single dad!bucky, single mom!reader raising their kid together as friends, also reader x clark kent. honestly this is one of my fave social media aus of all time. and it's got a sequel is coming!!

quick fix by @ocean-bucky

one-shot, tfatws!bucky x ofc, vidra is the queen of ofc's, you simply can't not love her characters!

grant (part 2) by @coffeecatsandsarcasm

two-shot, bucky's in a relationship with a single mom with a little boy, it's so soft, i love this little family!

before sunset, i fell by @buckysbiota

one-shot, modern!au, when i get drunk i get myself cake, when reader got drunk, she got herself a husband. a very fine husband 😏

alcohol you later by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, is it the 4th of dani's fics on this list? yes, she's just that powerful

three flags up by @starbuckie

one-shot, 18+, campcounselor!bucky x campcounselor!reader, best friends to lovers, buck being a cute little puppy in love and i adore him very much

and he kissed me right there by @sunmoonandbucky

one-shot, veteran!bucky, age gap, this is so full of feelings and it's gonna steal your heart!

lost and found by @sunshinebuckybarnes

two-shot, neighbour!bucky, alpine being the matchmaker of the year and we love that for her

hazy dreams and good mornings by @angrythingstarlight

one-shot, 18+, firefighter!bucky, i think that's enough encouragement to read this gem 😏

✨ Joaquin Torres

red by @remmysbounty

one-shot, a truly exceptional story!!

hold my words, keep us together by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, soulmate!au, just simply stunning!

✨Peter Parker

love lies by @rosyparkers

series, social media au, y/n is silk but peter doesn't know it, peter is spiderman but y/n doesn't know it, sarah is the brightest star in the universe and everyone knows it

sunset lovers by @duskholland

one-shot, college! au, soulmate!au where what your soulmate writes on their skin, appears on yours. i don't think i have to tell you that eveything written by h, my beloved is pure gold. the softest thing!

always waiting (for you to come home) by @peterbenjiparker

one-shot, reader comes to peter cause she needs him to patch her up after patrol, it's so funny and sweet and i just love it so much, m is the bestest!!

perfectly a little late by @/t-lostinworlds

one-shot, college!au, reader forgets about peter's birthday. or does she 👀 please, give a round of applause for this wonderful writer who's been feeding us so well this month 👏👏

this fic by @peeterparkr

one-shot, last kiss with peter :') nancy knows all the most beautiful ways to break someone's heart

the plan by @spideyyeet

series, aveneger!reader, reader likes peter, peter likes mj, mysterio shows up, lots of angsty things happen. it's so bloody good, my mates, go read it!!

burning red by @spideyspeaches

one-shot, avenger!reader who who describes people's personalities as colors, it's just a stunning story with wonderful writing and i love it!!

this fic by @mcumendes

blurb, peter brings y/n flowers and is very very adorable!!

kiss me more by @celestialholland

one-shot, first make out with peter and i'm just 😫😫 in love

the reveal by @cloudybarnes

one-shot, best friends!reader where she finds out about him being spiderman, so lovely!!

always by @ptersmj

one-shot, an absolutely adorable best friends to lovers moment

red-handed by @/vendettaparker

one-shot, stark!reader, morgan interrupts y/n and peter's alone time 😏😂

OTHERS

✨ Spencer Reid

as told by flowers by @reidingmelodies

one-shot, story about the progress of the relationship with spencer told by flowers (duh 😂), it's just wonderful!!

✨ Frank Adler

thnks fr th mmrs by @wiypt-writes

one-shot, 18+, reader goes to frank the night before his wedding, i love this with everything i have

will you hold on my love by @writerwrites

one-shot, don't come anywhere near this piece without tissues!!

✨ Ransom Drysdale

undercover boss by @chase-your-dreams-away

series, reader's working at drysdales' company and hooks up with ransom not knowing who he is. this series is so bloody good! i love the reader in here so much!!

a/n: if you catch some kind of mistake or if you see that i miscredited someone - please let me know so i can change that!

[avenirdelight]

Number Seven | PART 2

Jack Grealish

Part 1 | Part 3

It didn't come home.

Jack couldn't describe the feeling he was feeling right now, all he knew was that he was heartbroken and completely devastated. His chest just felt so heavy and there was a lump suffocating his throat that he just couldn't shake away.

They lost the Euro final. They hoped that today was going to end in a sweet victory, but it turned out that they needed to swallow the hard reality that they couldn't bring the trophy home.

The atmosphere in Wembley was strange, there was immense sadness hanging in the air. The fans were silent and a lot of them had even left their seats as soon as the penalty shootout ended, so the players and staff were giving the lap of appreciation to the ones that were patient enough to stay and share the heartbreaking moment with them.

Jack quickly scanned the stands when they were approaching the family stands and could easily find who he was looking for.

In an England shirt number seven, she stood proudly right there beside his friends, giving him a round of applause to show some appreciation to the amazing team that had done the country proud, especially to the player she was representing.

Jack saw her looking at him and giving him a smile, but he just couldn't smile back as his chest felt heavier and heavier. He eventually looked away from her, feeling too ashamed to be under her gaze despite the distance separating them.

He felt like he had failed everybody. He had failed her, the one who had always been beside him through this camp and motivating him to keep going. He was disappointed in himself for not being able to win it and make everyone's dreams come true.

The players were allowed to go in the stands and meet their family and friends after the event was done, and Jack was having mixed feelings about it. Having some comfort from them would be nice, but he was covered in a blanket of guilt and it was just so hard for him to be proud of himself right now. He didn't want to present this version of him in front of them, especially not to her.

But they all welcomed Jack with open arms. Jack fell to his parents' embrace; they couldn't stop telling him how proud they were of him. His siblings gave him the biggest hugs and the brightest smiles. His friends gave him hugs and pats on his back, telling him to chin up and giving him other kind words to cheer him up. He greeted them one by one. Patrick, Edmund, Laura, Joe, Brad... And then there was only her left.

She was standing there looking at him with a fond gaze and his lips perked up into a sheepish smile. He froze right there for a second, wondering what he wanted more, to fall into her warm embrace and shed a tear or two on her shoulder, or to vanish from this place.

Jack was tight-lipped. Most of the time he always knew what to say but now not even a single word crossed his mind. There was only a simple thank you and sorry at the tip of his tongue, but he didn't even have the strength to say it.

Their eyes locked on to each other as Jack's concerned mind wandered around trying to figure out what to say, but she shattered it by taking his hand on hers.

Without thinking twice, Jack pulled her by her hand, closed their distance, and hugged her so tight as if his life depended on it. He managed to whisper "I'm so sorry" in her ear, before burying his face on her shoulder.

He knew he was getting stares from everyone around him. His parents would probably be surprised, his family and friends would definitely have questions to ask, his teammates certainly would wonder who this mysterious girl was, but he didn't care. He could do the explaining later.

There was a little worry on his mind for the potential shock he was giving her, but the thought was gone as soon as it came, when he felt her pair of arms moved and was now wrapped tightly around him.

"Remember what I told you last night? No matter what happens, we will still be proud of this team. Always. You've made history, you did us proud," she whispered in his ear as her hand rubbed his back gently, giving him some sense of comfort that Jack needed more than he knew.

There was a storm breaking inside his head and all he could do was hold on to her, hoping that it would calm down. He tried to fill his mind with the feeling of having her in his arms, the smell of her perfume, and how warm it was to be embraced by her in this awfully cold night.

He didn't know how long he had been hugging her in silence. She took her arms away and pushed him gently by his sides. Jack was reluctant to let her go and didn't actually want her to see his face, because he could feel his eyes were starting to water and he was afraid that the tears were going to fall any second. So he hung his head low and took a long deep breath to try to calm himself down.

"Hey, Jack?" she said softly, trying to get his attention. He was too scared to look up.

Then he felt her pair of hands running through his hair, fixing the strands of hair that were out of place. Her hands then went down to his face. She cupped his face and rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks, and her gesture surely caught him off guard.

Jack finally looked up and his eyes immediately met hers. Those beautiful eyes were gazing at him lovingly and her warm smile was painted on her face once more. The lump on his throat was suddenly there again and he bit his lower lip to stop his tears from coming back. Their relationship was indeed complicated, but she had always shown him her support and never failed to comfort him when things got rough. Today was just one of those days.

"I am so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself too."

He didn't know what he was thinking, but he quickly removed their distance again to put a long kiss on her forehead. His hand went to the back of her head and he gently stroked her hair. He could feel her dropping her hands to his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Jack, you hear me?" She said as Jack pulled away. She found his eyes again and Jack nodded.

"Promise me you're not going anywhere?" he asked, his hands fiddling with her hair.

She raised her eyebrows, seeming to be surprised with Jack's question. "Why would I? I thought you were taking me on a date?" She said gleefully, trying to make the mood a little bit better. And her words surely did put a little smile on his face. She giggled seeing his eyes crinkled, as she leaned closer to give a peck on his cheek.

—

your interests on the first part have been amazing and it's definitely my fic that has done the best so far. thank you so much❤️

i wanted to write something after the final, whatever the result would be. at the end i just decided to make a second part of this because i needed to pour out my feelings.

My Masterlist🤍

[antoine-roquentin]

The American mainstream media is throwing a classic tantrum over President Biden's decision to withdraw from Afghanistan. We've got the hastily-assembled pieces telling the story of what happened in elaborate detail, "hard-hitting" interviews, thousands of op-eds, and cable news coverage so obsessive and breathless that even MSNBC barely interrupted Afghanistan coverage to mention that a Trump-supporting terrorist with an apparent truck bomb was threatening to blow up the Capitol building on Thursday. (Conservative white terrorists don't really count, it seems.)

At a White House press conference Friday, reporters pressed Biden with highly unusual aggressiveness. The American mainstream press, particular its television outlets, just can't quit the forever war.

As Judd Legum writes at Popular Information, big outlets have almost exclusively turned to critics of the Afghanistan withdrawal in their coverage, and in virtually every case people who supported the invasion and occupation. A public relations specialist told Popular Information that TV bookers were straight-up refusing to have anyone on who supports the decision to withdraw. Indeed, as Eric Alterman writes at The American Prospect, many people now being given a platform to hector Biden about his supposed failures were not only directly involved in the catastrophically bungled occupation but were revealed in The Washington Post's "Afghanistan Papers" to have blatantly lied to the public about how well it was going. The Post itself is not innocent either — a recent David Ignatius op-ed compared Biden's team ending a war to the infamous Vietnam-era "best and the brightest" who started one.

It goes without saying that until this outbreak of hysterics, the mainstream media had almost totally ignored Afghanistan for the last decade. Nobody except a handful of intemperate critics read the dozens of Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) reports showing the occupation was a cataclysmic disaster through and through. The main evening news programs on broadcast TV spent a grand total of five minutes combined on the country in 2020, and even before the pandemic barely more than that. As Jim Lobe writes at Responsible Statecraft, "the three networks devoted a total of only 362 minutes to Afghanistan in the preceding five years, or just two hours of coverage per network, or an average of only 24 minutes per network per year."

It seems the media thinks it's fine to flush trillions of dollars down the toilet and get hundreds of thousands of people killed in a spectacularly doomed occupation, so long as the brutality is relatively easy to ignore.

It's not immediately obvious what explains a bias that is this extreme and widespread. Probably a number of factors are to blame. There is typical imperial chauvinism — the belief in American exceptionalism not only in thinking it is best country on Earth, but also that it has the right and ability to meddle in other countries' affairs whenever it wants.

Then there is the fact that a large fraction of purportedly "neutral" reporters have decided to brand themselves as hysterically pro-Troop — a tendency that got much stronger after 9/11. Every Veteran's Day and Memorial Day, you see a lot of normally buttoned-down reporters posting maudlin Twitter threads or Facebook posts appreciating American soldiers for their Heroic Sacrifice. (A recurring joke in lefty Twitter is baiting these folks into retweeting pictures of non-soldiers — like Chapo Trap House co-host Felix Biederman — or war criminals.) Some reporters have gotten so deep into instinctive troop worship that they can question basic principles of democracy like civilian control of the military, seemingly without even noticing. Here's CNN's chief national security correspondent:

Too many times, I’ve witnessed the US military attempt to dutifully carry out difficult & dangerous missions left to them by the miscalculations of civilian leaders.

Then there is the instinctive desire to appear "neutral." Mainstream outlets were extremely uncomfortable with the fact that, during the Trump presidency, simply reporting the news meant criticizing Republicans virtually nonstop. Therefore, anytime a Democrat does something that seems even mildly objectionable, they perform shrieking outrage so as to demonstrate their nonpartisan bona fides.

Finally, there is the fact that wars are extremely profitable for a small group of elites with deep connections to the press. Much of the tens of billions of dollars in occupation money was gobbled up by corrupt defense contractors who turned in shoddy work or straight-up fleeced the taxpayer. These contractors have hired dozens of former military officers who then go on television without disclosing that they have a direct financial interest in the conflicts they invariably advocate prolonging. In 2008, David Barstow at The New York Times found dozens of instances of this; Laura Bassett at HuffPost found the same thing in 2010; the Public Accountability Initiative found the same thing again in 2013; Lee Fang at The Nation found the same thing again in 2014; Paul Farhi at The Washington Post found the same thing again in 2020; and The Intercept found the same thing yet again over the last few days. Troop worship means that corrupt former generals get to ignore fundamental journalistic ethics.

Luckily, there are some signs that the American people are more-or-less sympathetic with President Biden's argument that withdrawal was a painful necessity. Despite an entire week of foghorn blast jingoist propaganda on every channel, a recent poll still found that 62 percent of Americans think the war was not worth fighting. I suspect if Biden continues to defend his position, most voters will conclude he did what he had to do.

note that that’s down from 73% in april prior to the onslaught

[strawwritesfic]

Bruce Banner x Pregnant!Female!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 9]

Summary: Anger isn’t the only emotion that can take over a life.

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Miscarriage

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; miscarriage; miscarriage caused by fictional conditions; angst; depression; domestic strife; marital separation; discussion of abortion; foul language; crude humor; not canon compliant; Bruce & Tony friendship; Tony & Reader friendship; Pepper & Reader friendship; OC child of canon pairing)

Pairing(s): Bruce Banner/Female!Reader; past!Bruce/Natasha; Tony/Pepper; Clint/Laura

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Master List

Chapter 9: Where Do We Go From Here?

It was birdsong that brought you back to life. You awoke as though coming out of dark water. One minute, everything around you was cold and black. Then a strange warmth took hold of your feet and climbed, inch by slow inch, all the way up to the top of your head.

A deep breath in preceded your eyes fluttering open. A cool breeze stirred the simple curtains to your right, and along with that drifted inside the chirping and the smell of rain. Blearily, you sat up and looked around. Doing so hurt. Every muscle in your body felt stiff, like it had been forced to run a marathon after a month without moving.

Hold on. A month?

Ignoring the pain, you crawled out of the bed to walk to the window. Outside shone a watery sun in a halo of palest blue. The bushes in the backyard burst with tiny clumps of flowers. It was spring. That couldn’t be right, though. You recalled it being autumn last: dying leaves and Halloween decorations, plans to spend Thanksgiving with the Starks. Springs was weeks away, if not months.

“Bruce?” you called. Your voice sounded thin and reedy. No one replied. Turning back toward the bed, you tried again, “Bruce?”

Bruce wasn’t there. His half of the bed was empty and perfectly made. It looked as though he hadn’t slept in it at all. Had Tony called him in on something during the night? You shuffled to your bedside table to check your phone, but that, too, was missing. What was not was the bathroom mirror.

“Oh my!”

The banshee in your reflection pressed her hands to her mouth just as you did. There was no avoiding it: that fleshy skeleton in the mirror was you. It was spring. And if both of those things were true, then…

With trembling fingers, you pulled up the top of your pajamas. Across your abdomen stretched an ugly, vivid scar. You closed your eyes and rubbed your palm down it. It was real. Faint words drifted from the foggy recesses of your mind, “Lucky he didn’t come out the back. It’ll be a miracle if she can walk again.”

Along with those words, everything else flooded back: Eugene, Bruce, your time away.

A sudden surge of heat and anxiety raced from your feet to your head. Bruce! Had he left? He had every right to. Even then, you wanted nothing more than to shamble back into bed and sleep your life away. Doing so would hurt less, and yet…you had to know. Pain be damned, you left the bedroom.

Unsteady feet took you down the hall. An empty room sat at the end of it, but your chest contracted at the thought of entering it. The door was closed; surely no one was in there anyway. But where was Bruce if not there? Surely he had not left you alone like that. Someone had to be there with you—Pepper or Laura or a nurse or someone.

“[Name]?”

A familiar voice froze you where you stood at the top of the stairs. Just below you was the kitchen, warm with the glow of the strengthening sun. Inside it stood your husband, barefoot, bare-chested, and squinting at you as though you were the brightest thing he’d seen in his entire life.

A silence that felt like an eternity stretched between you. Then Bruce took a step past the little square table, and said, “Hi,” in a voice that sent shivers up your sore spine.

You latched your hand like a vice around the banister to prevent yourself from running away—for a given definition of “run.” Perhaps Bruce noticed that, because he went still. He remained with you, though. Unless you’d started hallucinating on top of everything else. A single, hesitant step took your closer.

Say something! you screamed mentally, but it took so long for your words to reach your mouth that all that came out was a raspy, “hello.”

Bruce smiled. “You’re up.”

That time, you managed two steps and clearing your throat. “Looks like it.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Do you want breakfast?”

You considered the question as you clumsily navigated the rest of the way to the kitchen. Hunger was something you had not thought about in a very long time. Food could be joy, and joy you did not deserve to partake in. The hollowness in your stomach felt more like emptiness than dead weight that morning. Could that be hunger?

“I…guess so,” you said, stopping an arm’s length away from Bruce.

He beamed. “I made waffles,” he said, and pulled out a kitchen chair that had a plate of waffles and other breakfast foods in front of it.

You shrank away. “That’s your breakfast.”

“I can make more easily. Please eat something, [Name]. Please.”

His eagerness made it impossible for you to refuse. You sat in the offered chair, which Bruce then pushed in. Still grinning, he busied himself back at the waffle maker. He had extra butter at the table, you noted. Had your presence been expected, or merely hoped for?

“What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Eat. You need your strength.”

More to get him to quit looking at you than any sort of desire to do so, you took a bite. The sweet flavor of maple syrup spread heavily across your tongue. So strong was it that you had to close your eyes to avoid tearing up.

“Is it okay?”

When you opened your eyes again, Bruce was at the table setting down a plate of his own. The corners of your mouth twitched.

“It’s amazing.”

“It can’t be that good.”

“It is! It’s the most delicious thing I’ve had in ages.”

His smile faded. Warm brown eyes roved slowly across your face before settling back on the plate before them. “How are you feeling?”

You had thought that it might come to a question like that. Your fingers wrapped momentarily tighter around the handle of your fork. The metal pressing into your skin brought you back to reality soon after, and with that came the realization that you couldn’t lie to him. Not anymore.

“I’m…a little confused,” you said.

“About what?”

“Where I am.” You caught a flash of worry in his eyes and added, “I know this is our house, and who you are, and who I am. I just don’t remember how I got here, to this table this morning. The last thing I remember is yelling at you in the—the nursery.” The memory floated back to you as you spoke, and your voice grew hushed. What cruel things you had said. What cruel things you had done.

“Dr. Robinson said that might happen. You’ve been through a traumatic experience. Your mind might not be ready for you to process it all just yet.”

A little shudder ran its way up your back. To think there might be worse waiting for you in the dark, cobwebbed corners of your mind was not comforting. Neither was the thought that you’d lost a whole six months of your life until you were ready to cope with that time. It was nothing short of miracle that you had said nursery without dissolving again.

“Dr. Robinson? I’m going to therapy?”

Bruce nodded. “Physical and emotional. Have been for a few months now.”

If you tried hard enough, you could see flashes of warm rooms, of Bruce holding your hand while you spoke to a younger man behind a desk, of dragging yourself across the same hurdles Bruce’s friend Colonel Rhodes had. The images were like silent movies: mouths moved, but no sound accompanied them. Whatever you were saying and whatever was said to you remained a mystery.

“And I’m doing better?” you asked.

“Today you are,” said Bruce.

You swallowed roughly, then gulped down much of the coffee he had left for you. That flavor threatened to overwhelm you as well, but you forced yourself to drink until your throat felt less clogged with tears. If you were doing better, then you were determined not to ruin the moment by crying. The sun was out, you could walk, and Bruce was eating breakfast with you. What more could you ask for?

To avoid figuring something out, you shoved another chunk of waffle into your mouth. For a few minutes, nothing more sounded off in your kitchen except for the forks and knives against the plates. Only when you’d finished your food did Bruce try again:

“I missed you.”

You swallowed. “I missed you, too. My head’s been a pretty scary place.”

“I know the feeling.”

Though Bruce had said the words with a smile, his expression swiftly faded at the look on your face. Your throat contracted at the same time that your hands squeezed around the coffee mug you’d reached for.

Bruce did know the feeling, and he’d loved you through it just the same as you’d usually loved him through his anxiety and full-fledged Hulk-outs. It took some effort, but eventually you were able to force yourself to unwind. You were not the only one that had lost a child.

“Yeah,” you said, a little unsteadily, “I know you do.”

For a long minute, all he did was look at you, as though he were hungry just to see you. The idea of that twisted up your insides. All you were now was greasy, uncut hair and bones pressing against your skin in all the wrong places. You had not taken care of yourself. Still you tried not to duck your head or otherwise hide from him. That much you owed Bruce.

Feeling suddenly shy, you decided to focus your attention on your empty plate. The very first bite had had your head spinning. When was the last time you’d tasted something so sweet? Obviously Bruce had ensured you’d eaten during your time away, or else you would not have been alive to eat breakfast with him that morning. You couldn’t remember eating for a long, long time, though.

Before you could prevent it, hot tears sprang to your eyes. Bruce’s hand found your shoulder at once. You shook your head wildly, sniffing and snuffling to get yourself to stop.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped.

The hand on your shoulder squeezed, then vanished to move straight to the hand you had resting on the table. “Don’t be sorry,” Bruce said.

You shook your head a second time. “I have to be. I’ve been s-s-so awful.”

“You are not awful.”

“I am. You dealt with everything alone, and now I’m having a breakdown over waffles!”

“You’re sure it’s over the waffles?”

You whipped your wide-eyed gaze toward him. “What else would it be?”

Sighing, Bruce slid his hands back into his lap and looked at them. “You got so hurt because of me.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, tears forgotten in your confusion.

“If you had not had a child with me, you’d still be okay. The child would have lived. All of this happened because I’m a monster.”

“Robert Bruce Banner, don’t you dare!” you said. The flash of anger felt good, almost warming. Bruce had no answer for it either, perhaps because it had been so long since he’d heard any emotion from you at all.

“You were the one that suggested I have an abortion,” you went on. “I should have listened, I wanted a family with you. Eugene died because of me. You and everyone else wasted time taking care of me because I’m the monster you and Eugene never could be.”

Your voice rang against the walls for a few seconds after your tirade. Both of you sat to listen to it. After the echoes faded at last and your anger began to cool, Bruce took your hand again.

He rubbed his work-worn thumb against the top of your knuckles. “Everyone who has helped you has helped you because they love you. No one thinks you’re a monster.”

“They’re wrong.”

“They aren’t. It wasn’t just you, [Name]. I’m to blame as well. If I hadn’t decided we ought to have sex—”

“I liked the sex,” you interrupted.

His smile was weary. “I did, too. And you know what else we have in common? I wanted a family as well. I’ve always wanted a family. I wanted one so badly that I ignored the risks. I convinced myself that you and Eugene would be all right.”

A few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes in the aftermath of his confession. With your free hand, you reached over to dry them off. Hoarsely, you said, “I can’t have kids anymore, Bruce.”

“I know, but,” he licked his lips, hesitating on what looked to be a precipice before he took the leap, “I’ve been thinking. If you want kids and I want kids…there’s no saying we have to have them ourselves for them to count. Maybe—Maybe we can adopt.”

That was a thought. A very big, very scary thought. It was not a thought that you immediately wanted to reject, however. Bruce would be a fantastic father. Everything in his life leading up to the conversation had proven that, especially his taking care of you while you were too mentally fogged to do so yourself. You had the room in the house and in your heart.

“I think I’d like that,” you whispered.

“We’ll talk about it some more later. We don’t have to rush anything. I think we both need some time to heal.”

After a pause, you nodded, dragged your chair closer to Bruce’s, and leaned your head against his shoulder. “Together now?” you asked him.

“Together from now on,” he promised, and kissed the top of your head.

THE END

[voidstilesplease]

telltale

Word count: 1,592... the goal is less than 1k but- | Warning/s: none | Contains: HP Universe, magic, Slytherin!Stiles, Slytherin!Theo. Was going to make this a separate thing, but it's been a while for this tag, so.

---

Having a newly-turned werewolf best friend is taking a toll on Stiles and it's showing - but he's also not about to abandon Scott to his predicament. What kind of a best friend would that make him? So, he spends most of his time now helping Scott through the shift; in remaining semi-conscious even as the moon pulls at his sanity, and in adapting to the enhancements of his senses. Stiles even brews the monthly supply of Wolfsbane potion himself, in the old girl's lavatory in the presence of Moaning Myrtle - the worst tattletale ghost in history. Luckily, Stiles is an expert at bribery. You'd think it was impossible to bribe a girl who's been dead forever, but goes to show how little you know about the world.

Stiles knows what he's committing to is risky, and Salazar Slytherin would have sneered at his display of severe lack of self-preservation if he could, but it wouldn't make a proper Slytherin of him if he turned down a challenge he believes he can win. And he can win this. In fact, he's winning so competently he's perfecting his animagus form without proper training or legal consent - both of which are required for all witches and wizards who wish to become one. It's his way of showing solidarity to his best friend. If his friend transforms into an animal, then he transforms into an animal as well. Albeit, of all animals, he chose a fox, and foxes and wolves tend not to get along. But eh, that's all right. There hasn't been an accident anyway... yet. Also, he has always wanted to do something illegal just to prove that he can get away with it. He always does something illegal, yes, but, like, hosting illicit parties in the Slytherin Common Room has nothing on becoming an unregistered animagus, isn't that right? This thing with Scott is an excellent opportunity to broaden his horizon.

But it doesn't mean it's not without consequences on his social life, physicality (he's still fit, mind you, just lost a few pounds, is all), and most of all, his studies. He knows his chances of usurping the first rank from Lydia is borderline impossible, but he would damn well do everything not to be that far behind her. If he has to settle with second place, he will do so with a hairsbreadth of space between them and nothing more.

But goddamn if he isn't bedraggled, half-unconscious, bloody hungry, and terminally late to his potions class today. None of which would help his academic goal. He'll have to fight tooth and nail to get that 0.5 difference again.

He's lucky it's his Head of House, Professor Laura Hale's class and not Deaton's (who would purse his lips in disapproval, take 5 points from Slytherin, and look at him disappointedly the whole day), Professor Derek Hale's (he would huff and let his eyebrows speak the 10 points he'd take from Slytherin, and make Stiles the dummy for whatever curse they were demonstrating that day), or god forbid, Harris's (he would happily take 50 points from Slytherin without batting his eyelash then and there). Professor Laura would only turn her head away and pretend not to notice Stiles awkwardly sliding onto the seat beside his potions partner.

Merlin, his potions partner. Theo "I know what you've been up to and you better well know I'm gonna use it as leverage when the time comes" Raeken. He can't, for the life of him, guess how Theo knew about the animagus thing when he'd been so careful. Then again, Theo isn't a Slytherin if he doesn't have bags of tricks up his sleeves. Theo has repeatedly hinted that he's aware, and it's another thing that keeps Stiles up at night - well, more than usual. Theo already keeps Stiles up at night without trying. Theo hasn't blabbered yet - Stiles doesn't have to worry about that, at least - because a proper Slytherin would always go the blackmail route. Honestly, Stiles is only waiting for the shoe to drop. It's not like he doesn't have blackmail material of his own against his infuriating housemate. If Theo ever opens his stupid mouth, Stiles will call him out on his hypocrisy. Because apparently, there are two unregistered animagi in Slytherin.

Panting, he enters the room and immediately meets Professor Laura's eyes over the busy heads of his classmates. Wordlessly, she smoothly shifts her gaze away and turns her back to "check" on the progress (or lack thereof) of some Hufflepuff fellow as if she didn't at all notice Stiles by the entryway. Taking the chance (the hint is what it is), he crosses the room towards his partner and exhales loudly in his seat.

Theo is stirring the pot, the concoction quietly bubbling, as he smirks down at Stiles with an all-knowing look. "Long night?"

The git, the absolute bloody bastard. He probably slept the prescribed 8 hours, the prat. Albeit... an attractive one at that. But still the biggest git of all, of course. And, yeah, the most attractive git, loathe as he to admit it. But- Merlin, shut up. Shut up. He needs to bloody sleep and drop unconscious already. Or drown himself in firewhiskey and drop unconscious. For at least 15 hours straight.

Stiles sneers, looking for a clever slight to throw at Theo. He knows he can't insult his potions skills because he's actually decent at it, actually bloody good, the prick. And he can't pick on his appearance because, well, there is literally nothing to pick on about his outside everything, is there? Even that stupid slight graze on his left eyebrow looks fitting on him, like a fashion statement or something, and soon the Slytherin boys would go knicking themselves in their stupid eyebrows to copy him, to be half as echanting as him, to - Merlin. Shut up, for Salazar's sake.

Before Stiles can open his mouth, the onslaught of cedarwood, mint, and chocolate knocks his words back down his throat, and all he's able to do is inhale. Deep. With pleasure. With so much pleasure that it's an internal battle not to drop his eyelids and part his lips for a moan.

For seven years, Stiles has been haunted by it - sleeping so close to the boy who wears the scent that he can't eat a single bar of chocolate without thinking of Theo. It's both a blessing and a curse. Kinda cliche, but kinda true. Absolutely true. Also absolutely a secret.

So, he pulls his face into a sneer once more - as if his brain isn' melting into cedarwood, mint, and chocolate pudding - throwing a glare at his roommate. The long-time bane of his existence, long-time subject of his wanking fantasies (and disgustingly romantic daydreams, but Stiles is not about to address it because then he'll be admitting that shit's getting real), long-time crush. "None of your business," Stiles snaps. He'd like to add "eloquently", but it just isn't.

Theo only chuckles as if he already expected the reply. Or because he is immune to Stiles's attitude after dealing with it for years. Whichever it is, Theo's infuriatingly unaffected. It's so bloody distracting. He's so bloody distracting. Especially to a sleep-deprived Stiles who hasn't had enough rest, meal, or wank for far too long than reasonable.

"Well, make your tardy ass useful then and tell me if the potion smells like it's a flawless brew," he cocks his head sideways, lips slanting to an obnoxious smile, and adds, "Though, I already know it is."

Stiles scoffs (while he inwardly sings praises, because, damn if he isn't hot. Merlin, he needs to jerk off. Twice, in a row. Then drop unconscious. Wake up for dinner and masturbate twice more before bed most preferably). He glances down at the swirling mist coming from the pot and slides his unimpressed gaze back to Theo. "If I can smell anything at all over the entire bottle of cologne you poured on yourself today."

Theo looks taken aback for a moment, five heartbeats if Stiles is not wrong (he isn't) before his face breaks into the biggest, brightest grin Stiles has ever seen him make. Then he laughs heartily, genuinely; his eyes look extraordinarily joyful, and his neck even starts flushing. Stiles would've preened (he totally does inside. He caused that smile, okay?) if he didn't think that he probably did something embarrassing based on the absolute glee in Theo's reaction.

"Well," he drawls, still freakishly happy, like what in Merlin? He's a sight, yeah, bloody gorgeous, but Theo's happiness is usually in tandem with Stiles's distress, you see. It's perfectly rational to be suspicious. Then, Theo pins Stiles with a smug and satisfied look, saying, "I'm glad to know that's what amortentia potion smells like to you."

The statement gives Stiles a pause - more than a pause, he freezes - and he gapes while processing it. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for it to hit him.

Amortentia. Love potion. Today's task is Amortentia - a potion that smells different to each person, depending on what attracts them. And he's just announced that the air around him is basically marinating in Theo's bloody cologne. Salazar bloody Slytherin.

Stiles never imagined ever stooping so low but let it be known that what he does next, he will bring to his grave as his biggest disgrace.

Taking out his wand swift as lightning, he points it to himself for the easy way out. With a murmured spell, he grants his wish and knocks himself unconscious.

His idiocy is future Stiles's problem now. He'll stay bloody asleep for 15 hours straight, thank you very much.

~•~

steo a-z: part 20

[glassbxttless]

Paterson x Reader

Word Count: 1,052

Warnings: female reader, swearing

I don’t even need to change the world. I’ll make the moon shine just for your view, I’ll make the starlight circle the room. And if you feel like night is falling, I wanna be the one you’re calling— cause I believe that you could lead the way.

Paterson comes home every night to Laura waiting for him on the couch. She’s determined to try and save what they have left. The last spark of sanity that they held together after she sees you with him. She sees the brightest smile on his face when he talks on the phone— and she knows it’s you on the other end of the line. Every time he walks through the door and is met with the face of his once lover, who he has grown further and further apart from, he feels sick. He knows you wouldn’t want her around, trying to fix what was between them.

Paterson is moving through the motions in his own home, cohabitating with the one he wishes he wouldn’t have to. But he couldn’t put her out. He couldn’t leave her to live with nothing. He’s pushing her away when she pulls him in for hugs, he doesn’t want to feel her kisses. He almost wants to lose his fucking mind when she crawls into bed next to him. And he finds himself at your door at five am, knocking so gentle. You’re smiling sleepily when you answer it, you pull him into your arms— helping him shed his jacket as he kisses you so fucking soft. “I really need somebody to call my own.” He whispers as your hands lock behind his back. You embrace him tightly, holding him for as long as he needs.

“I’m right here.” You whisper back to him, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. He’s looking down at you with all of the love he has. He can’t even picture living life without you these days. This is his home. Right here in your arms. You’re leading him back to your bedroom, helping him under the blankets just like he’s done to you a thousand times. “You don’t have to stay there.” You're brushing his hair back, scratching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as he listens to you.

“I’ve never had anybody.” His voice is quiet, gravelly from underuse. “Not anyone who makes me feel the way you do.”

“Then come here.” You're telling him quietly. “Move your stuff over here… it won’t hurt to live together. Especially if she keeps doing these things to you.” You kiss his temple.

“She’s just… doing what she used to.” He sighs quietly, holding you a little tighter. “I don’t wanna fade away, not from you.”

“And you won’t.” You smile at him, swiping away a tear that threatens to fall onto his cheeks. “I wanna be the one you’re guiding and there’s no way around that, Paterson. Believe me.” You hold his face and he opens those eyes to look at you in yours. And his lips feel like velvet against your own. Your hearts beat together for the first time in weeks. For the first time without her there to butt in. And Paterson sleeps in your arms, tucked up tightly to your body under the blankets.

And he wakes up, he rouses from your bed and searches for the uniform he’d left here weeks before. And he’s off to work, pressing a kiss against your forehead before he does. And he can’t get what you proposed off his mind all day. He’s distracted, and some of his regular passengers notice it. “Everything okay, Pat?” Mr. Jameson, who lives on the corner of North and Maine, asks quietly.

Paterson just nods in response and tries to Will away the thought of living with you. Of falling asleep next to you every night. Of being your Someone. And he decides that he will. He’s going to. As soon as you let him. He’ll wake up to coffee and cereal and he’ll get to enjoy baths and showers with your body pressed close to him. And as he drops off that last passenger and pulls into his bay, he scrounges through his book. He writes his thoughts. Everything he’s feeling about you. And maybe the poetry that splats onto the page isn’t the most thought out. But it’s just as important to him as you are; The Kingdom Come, the Rise, the Fall—

He walks into his home, just for the time being, to Laura waiting on the couch for him. And this is it. This is the time he breaks the news. He has to. He can’t wait any longer. “We need to talk.” He says quietly, placing the lunch box on the counter. Her eyes are just as big and loving as they day he married her, as he leans on the island chair. He’s looking down at where she’s sitting on the couch, unsure of where to even begin. “We can’t do this, you can’t keep pretending.”

“Love…”

“That’s just it, Laura. We aren’t.” Paterson says softly. “I’m not okay with what you’re doing. I’ve moved on and it’s time you need to too.” He punches the bridge of his nose. He’s never had to even think about doing this before. But here he is, breaking her heart just like she did his. “I’m moving soon. You can keep the place or we sell it together.” He gives her two options to mull over.

And he leaves her there, closing her eyes as he goes to pack up a night bag. He’ll finish packing his things when the two of you figure out a bit more of the details. But tonight, he needs you. And you need him just as much. Your heart is bursting out of your chest every time you think of him. Thinking of him touching you, kissing you, loving you. He’s all you need. He’s all you want.

Paterson holds his bag quietly as he walks, his free hand tucked into his pocket. When the sun starts setting and the sky has gone cold, he really needs someone he can call his own. And that someone is you. And it always has been, it’s just taken him a while to figure that bit out.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19 @roanniom @mariesackler @ellenmunn @loganluckylover @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @historyandfandoms50 @driversmutbucket @daughterofaries @cornmousequeen @alpha-lobito @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina

(I couldn’t tag the strike through!)

[thebigoblin]

Ok, after looking at some notes I have a sentence. "You can be kind to yourself, you know that... Right?" Go with it however you want!

Lol, I wanted this on my writing blog (@whenwordsmakesense) but guess I'll have to make do with it here 😂😂

Thanks for the line, and once again, I have written more than 5 lines~ Hope you like it!!

The title is just something I thought of. It's not a song (as far as I know) or a lyric, but actually the perfect canon time to change things for the better imo. The summer between S2 and S3 had so much potential, honestly.

Summer (when I'll bury my dreams)

[Also on AO3]

"You can be kind to yourself, you know that... right?"

Stiles' voice is like a dream stolen from the brightest parts of his brain, and all Derek wants to do is chase it until he can wrap it in his arms, cling to it and never let it go.

Derek starts running faster, his muscles burning up to a terrifying degree even for a werewolf.

Stiles is still sitting on the porch steps of his burnt home when Derek comes around again, eyes wandering around the empty clearing until it comes to a stop at him. Derek watches as arousal flares in the teenager's scent, how his eyes lingers on Derek's chest where his clothes stick a little too much because of the sweat he's gathered up while running around, searching for his missing betas.

His ex-betas.

"Why are you here."

Stiles startles at that, and it internally amuses Derek. Humans; it's difficult to think how they can live their whole lives without senses that are in tune with everything around each other. They're so vulnerable.

And yet a human killed all of his family, because he was the one who was weak.

Stiles is saying something, Derek doesn't know; he heard Scott's name being mentioned as well as Isaac's, and he can smell the jealousy coming off of Stiles.

"—and then I heard my dad's radio, the police one that is, and guess what I heard? They are missing! Erica and Boyd are missing,"

Derek straightens at that. "Why are you here, Stiles." Police are involved. That means Derek needs to find them quickly, hopefully before the police does.

Stiles gives him a look that makes him feel like a kid who has been caught stealing cookies; it's a contradiction, how the human feels so much like an Alpha and not, and Derek's wolf is utterly unhelpful in the process of uncovering why he feels like this.

"Dude, running around like crazy will not help you find them,"

"And you're here to help me. You." He means it as, you, Scott's best friend, who didn't even know who Erica and Boyd were before, wants to help me find them? Why, because you suddenly care for them? But Stiles takes it as something else.

Stiles' jaw sets stubbornly, and it looks childish on his young face, but his words hold a weight that Derek is unable to not hold.

"I may be human unlike you, but I have resources. I can help you—you know what? I can find them on my own. You just keep running around like a useless fucking dog that has no clue what the hell to do when its owners are gone!"

"I don't understand you." The words leave his mouth of their own accord, but the sentiment is true. Only minutes before Stiles was asking him to slow down, to not punish himself, to slow down and take a breath, if not in the exact same words, but he was.

Stiles' smile is tight as he says, "Nobody does," but then his eyes soften, his mouth curls down into a frown. "Are you going to help me? I know your wolfy instincts must be going all bleh with your betas gone, and I know that's why you're grumpy—well, grumpier than usual, and punishing yourself by running around—"

"I am trying to find their scents, Stiles."

"Oh."

Derek thinks about the offer. About how there's a faint trace of his betas on the human, like they'd been together for a few hours in the past few days, and his eyes linger on the injuries visible on Stiles' body—there's a story there, one that might give him the answer about the almost-no-scent of Scott on Stiles, and the flicker of hurt and surprise he'd seen on Stiles' face on that night.

Derek doesn't so much as verbally tells Stiles to follow, but Stiles does anyways, and as they're walking in the forest, away from Derek's burned home, Stiles asks, "So? Am I helping you—?"

"Make sure that none of your dad's deputies don't come in the Preserve. And if they somehow find a lead, tell me."

Stiles nods vigorously, and he starts spewing ideas about how to find Erica and Boyd, and it's too fast and too well-prepared, and Derek simultaneously feels a headache coming on and a smile tugging on his lips, two things that should be impossible but Stiles is responsible for anyways.

It's a feeling he'll feel for the innumerable days to come, but right now he's got two betas to find.

(He finds them, alive and breathing and thankful, and he also finds a piece of his old life he didn't know he still had—that night, as Cora and Derek reacquaint themselves with each other, under the moon and with their Pack—Stiles, Erica, Boyd and Isaac—it feels like the new beginning Laura had wished for, the night she'd taken Derek to New York.

It's a night none of them forget).