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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

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We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.5

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 5 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5

Author: Gumnut

29 Apr - 11 May 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4259

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve been staring at this too long and it is late. I hope I don’t regret posting this. Especially as Alan misbehaved and threw an unplanned scene at me.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom @scribbles97 and @onereyofstarlight for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t sleep long.

Virgil was woken so they could drag him onto A Little Lightning. Scott marshalled him out of his wet clothes, into a shower and quietly redressed his healing incisions. Lunch was demanded and a sandwich shoved into his hand. Coffee was denied him and orange juice substituted.

He found himself dozing at the table.

Mel and Sam were invited for lunch aboard the boat. Gordon was busy being host, but never quite seemed to be very far from Virgil.

Sam mentioned the whales several times, but Gordon shut him down and at no point did he have a chance to corner Virgil.

Virgil felt sorry for the cetacean biologist. He must remember to talk to him at a later time. Once he had finished processing today himself.

The whole experience was otherworldly. He didn’t quite know how to express it. It was as if the music had shape and form, his mind’s eye producing a kaleidoscope of imagery sculpted by sound.

And it meant something.

He knew it meant something, but he couldn’t decipher most of it. Bits were missing, the shapes fragmented, but he did feel the emotion that travelled with it. Multidimensional, the song communicated in a way he wasn’t capable of fully comprehending.

“Virgil, you should go to bed.”

Scott again.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“C’mon.” A hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Mmm...” Musical shapes danced in his mind and he realised there was colour. Greens, violets and yellows. Patches torn from an unseen spectrum. It was frustrating to not be able to pull it all into focus and understanding.

“Virgil?”

It would be interesting to try and paint. Yes, maybe that would be a way to understand it better. He visualised forming those shapes with pencil and brush. Three dimensions...no four. They shifted according to time.

Hell. So confusing.

But he could try.

“Virgil? You with me?”

Huh? He blinked and looked up at concerned blue eyes.

A sigh. “Just thinking.”

“I can see that. You need rest.”

He did, yes, but he also needed to think, to doodle, to work it all out. He caught Scott’s eyes. “Sit with me?”

A blink. “Of course.”

There followed farewells, Virgil pre-occupied throughout. At some point Mel kissed him on the cheek, but he barely registered it. Sam said something but was interrupted by Gordon. Virgil felt completely spaced and somewhere at the back of his thoughts he was embarrassed at his lack of response and manners.

Scott didn’t leave his side.

Gordon made excuses and apologies.

John was speaking to Eos...which meant their guests must have left. Man, he was out of it. Brain overload.

Alan had concerned blue eyes so much like their eldest brother.

The yacht’s engine starting up scared the living shit out of him. It shattered his mindscape with aural static, those careful shapes disintegrating.

“Hey, hey, Virgil. It’s okay.” Scott had his hand on his arm again.

Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest. A blink. A calming breath. A moment. He forced calm. “I’m good.”

He was, really. He just had a lot to think about.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“I’m sure.” But there was something he did want to do. “Come up front with me?”

Scott frowned at him.

“I just want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair.” And get as far away from the engine as possible.

“Sure.” A pause. “But you’re sitting down.”

“Sure.” Virgil pushed himself to his feet.

They found a niche on the bow, enough to sit comfortably with some back support. They could see Gordon frowning at them from the cockpit.

Virgil caught the thought and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Apparently, he was as much a flyboy as his big brother.

The boat was moving at a reasonable speed, Gordon, no doubt, wanting to get home fast due to the day’s events. That and now they were behind schedule and had quite a long, final stretch to make it before sunset.

Raoul was little more than a smudge on the horizon already. Virgil stared at it a moment before turning and facing the wide ocean ahead of them that ultimately would contain their island. Wind streamed through his hair.

“It will be good to be home.”

Scott didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

Virgil snorted. “Missing your ‘bird?”

“Missing land.”

“You spent last night on land.”

“Not the right land.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that. “You seemed quite happy with at least one of the inhabitants.”

That prompted a smile on his big brother’s face. “Fishing for details?”

“Some. Not too much.”

Scott turned to him and shrugged. “It was fun. Mel is an interesting woman.”

Half a smile. “I’ll give her that much.” A curious eyebrow. “See it going any further?”

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “Maybe.”

“Invite her over for Christmas.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Why not?”

“Late notice.”

“You have a Thunderbird.”

That thoughtfulness increased and a slight smile curved his brother’s lips.

“Invite Sam and Liam while you’re at it. We owe them cake. Alan ate theirs.” And Virgil owed Sam an explanation.

That frown returned. “You sure?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.” A snort. “Hell, have them over for a few days. It will give Melissa the chance to check out our ecosystem, she’ll be ecstatic.” A pause and then quietly. “It will give me a chance to speak to Sam about...” A fractured image came to mind and he realised it meant whale. An indrawn breath. Oh god. One concept. He understood something. He could not reproduce it. It wasn’t just sound. It was something else. A combination of visual and auditory. How? His throat froze up. Hell.

“Virgil?”

“I...” The concept tantalised him. His fingers itched for his pencils, his paints and his piano all at once. How?

How?

He swallowed and realised his heart rate was up again. “I...need my tablet...and stylus.”

Scott stared at him a moment before standing up and making his way aft.

It was a sign of how preoccupied Virgil was that his tablet appeared almost immediately in his hands.

He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pulled up his drawing app, his stylus connected with the surface and lines appeared.

Lines. Curves.

Shapes.

Interwoven.

No.

Not right.

The stylus squeaked across the screen.

More lines. More shapes.

The screen became black with them, so he added colour. It splashed and bled across the lines.

“Virgil.”

It still wasn’t right.

Frustration stirred and he groaned at the image.

A blink.

Sound.

He scratched more lines, but the moment of inspiration faded.

He couldn’t do it.

“Virgil.”

It wasn’t a single dimension. It was many. Visual, sound and...and...

Emotion.

How?

It all came back to that question.

He let the tablet and stylus drop, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his face with his hands.

How the hell could he communicate emotion?

-o-o-o-

John squirrelled himself away. Eos had contacted him to give her report, but there was something in her tone that told him not to take it on an open line.

So, he waited until Gordon got the boat moving and Scott had corralled Virgil before retreating to his cabin for some privacy.

“Did you receive a clear enough signal?”

“Affirmative, John. The upgrade to Virgil’s comms worked perfectly. I am confident I received the full spectrum of the whale’s emissions.”

“Any conclusions?”

“Tentative. And at least an explanation why Virgil is so relaxed in their presence.”

John frowned. “Show me.” The tablet in his hand, the same waterproof device he had clung to as they were tossed from the boat, lit up and a hologram hung above it.

It was a series of graphs mapping sound waves, several equations scrolled down one side. The frown on John’s face deepened. That was some seriously complex math. “Talk to me, Eos.”

“Multiple carrier waves interact synergistically to create other waves which also carry data. This is truly a multidimensional sound.” The waves on several of the graphs split up to show their originating structures.

“Can you decipher a language?”

“Not a simple language, no. Initial assessment leads me to believe this is at least partially a graphical language. The mathematics reveal vector information is part of the transmission.”

John’s eyes widened. “Any interpretation?”

The graphs disappeared to reveal fragmented moving lines and clouded shape. “These images are calculated using a section of song the mother whale was singing to Virgil.”

“Can you see a pattern?”

“Not presently, however, I am still analysing. One aspect to be considered is this...”

A second grouping of graphics appeared beside the main display. This was smaller and lacked colour, the lines far more fragmented and the whole composition was fogged with what appeared to be static. “What?”

“That is Virgil’s vocalisation while he was in contact with the whale, if it is run through the same mathematical algorithm.” The two graphics were suddenly overlaid together. Virgil’s section fit like a piece of a puzzle into the larger composition, as if it was an unfinished section awaiting colour.

“How? Why is Virgil picking this up, but the rest of us are not?”

The graphs returned along with one new one. “I retrieved Virgil’s EEG readings from his last head injury.” Lines lit up in red on several of the graphs. “Several of the carrier waves create a binaural beat. The result is that at least part of the whale’s communication is nestled in frequencies that resonate with human brainwave activity. Virgil’s, in particular, appear to align well. I hypothesise that this facilitates his receptivity.”

John stared at the lines denoting Virgil’s delta wave production. A flick of his fingers and the graph overlaid that section of the whale’s vocal output. Delta waves were well known for their calming effect and their influence on sleep. It would definitely explain his brother’s thrall and lethargy during each encounter.

The red lines glared at him.

An exhaled breath. “So, no chance of a translation?”

“Not any time soon. The transmission is extremely complex and I have yet to reveal all of the carrier signals, much less decipher the entire data stream.”

Eos fell silent a moment and John stared at the graphs, watching them move in rhythm with each other. “Why hasn’t this been discovered before?”

“Recording equipment. Of the recordings I have examined, only three have managed to record enough detail to even hint at the complexity. Today’s samples are of the highest resolution ever taken. Further clarity would be achieved with multiple recordings.”

Which meant more encounters. The sight of Virgil singing on the whale was eerie and unsettling. He may have held back Scott from going to Virgil’s assistance, but the truth was he had to hold himself back just as much.

“Is it causing Virgil any harm?”

Eos didn’t answer immediately and it gave John the chance to ramp up his concern just a notch.

“I cannot locate any medical effects beyond a tendency towards inducing sleep due to some of the frequencies involved. I would recommend further monitoring, however.”

“I agree.” An indrawn breath. “Thank you, Eos.” He blinked and realised exactly what his daughter had just done. His eyes widened just a little. “Continue analysis. This is an important scientific discovery and you have done some excellent work.”

“Really?” Her voice was ever so hopeful, ever so young.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to working on this with you.” There was definitely work to be done and soon.

“Thank you, John.”

“No, Eos, thank you.”

Her giggle bounced across comms. Sometimes so old, yet always ever so young. Her youth was always surprising as was her need for guidance. “Could you please send me Virgil’s vitals, both during the encounter and now?”

“Yes, John.” More numbers appeared above his tablet. Fortunately, they were all healthy numbers, though Virgil’s heart rate was up somewhat. A flick of his fingers and Scott’s vitals appeared beside Virgil’s. Both brothers’ heart rates echoed each other.

John would have felt like he was spying on his family, but he did it so often for reassurance on Five that it now barely registered. Another flick of his fingers and he directed Five to focus on A Little Lightning. He found his eldest brothers on the bow of the yacht. Virgil appeared to be drawing on his tablet.

“He is well, John. I can see no after effects from his encounter.”

John wondered if he could coerce his brother into an EEG exam when they made it home. Roping Scott in would probably manage it, but the stress on both of them would be considerable and he hesitated to aggravate either of them.

Perhaps further down the track, or if Virgil gave him any reason for concern.

God, he hoped not.

A sigh. He had probably jinxed himself last night acknowledging the vacation they were on. Since he woke up to Virgil’s snoring early that morning, things had changed. Sure, surfing with Gordon had been fun, but seeing Scott stressing over Virgil on the beach and the events that followed right up until they returned to A Little Lightning had been anything but relaxing.

One of Virgil’s piano sonatas started playing over his tablet ever so softly.

Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m fine, Eos.”

“You’re worrying again. This is not good for your hair production.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Several sources state that stress can disable the pigment production in human hair follicles, resulting in white, often termed ‘grey’, hairs. I believe this is a negatively viewed characteristic and I have noted that your elder brothers have encountered this issue already. It causes distress, therefore it should be prevented.”

Another blink. “Both of my older brothers have dark hair. Grey becomes very apparent in contrast.”

“It will turn your hair pink.”

“What?” This conversation was ridiculous. “It is a natural ageing process. There is very little that can be done about it.” A breath. “I’m not vain, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately. “But your brothers are?”

“My brothers are my brothers, Eos.”

“Well, that makes little sense.”

“Just accept them as they are.”

“Is it possible to accept them any other way?”

“No, not really.”

“Then that statement is redundant.”

“Eos.”

“Yes?”

Frivolous distraction, Eos-style. She had become quite adept at it. Moving his thoughts off worrying topics. A sigh. “Thank you, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but then...

“Did you know Virgil dyes his hair?”

-o-o-o-

Scott watched his brother draw somewhat manically on his tablet. The resultant art was far from what the artist usually produced. This was all sharp lines and angles followed by random blob shapes. At first it was all in pencil, but then Virgil started adding colours. There was no pattern, it was all haphazard and, worse, it appeared to be aggravating him.

“Virgil.”

His brother groaned in frustration, his eyebrows creasing his face in half and swallowing the scar on his forehead.

“Virgil.”

But he suddenly stopped, realisation on his face morphing into disappointment and more frustration.

The tablet and stylus slipped from Virgil’s hands and Scott was hard pressed to catch them.

But he did.

Virgil’s eyes were scrunched shut and he rubbed his face with his hands.

Scott glanced at the mess on the tablet and shoved it to one side, turning to his brother. “Virgil, talk to me.”

“I can’t.” It was small and hoarse.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t...express, explain...trying to understand...it’s a mess...”

Okay, this was well outside his realm, but he knew Virgil. He slipped off his seat and knelt in front him. Gently he pulled those hands away from his brother’s face to reveal worried brown eyes. “Stop. Take a breath.”

Virgil stared at him a moment before the soft command was obeyed and he drew in air. Those eyes closed briefly and his brother’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I ruined it again. I’ve stressed you out.”

“This time, I don’t think you had much say in it. Mamma Whale was very determined to say hello.” A small smile. “I think you have a music fan.”

Virgil snorted softly and Scott knew he’d broken through even if just a little. “She definitely wanted to talk. I just wish I knew what she wanted to say.”

“You picked up something, though, didn’t you?”

A quiet sigh. “She was happy and surprised.” Virgil looked up and stared out into the ocean, but Scott could tell he wasn’t seeing the waves.

He wondered what he was thinking.

“How could you tell?”

The frown returned. “I don’t know.” A pause caught in thought. “The sound makes me feel? The sound is...everything.”

Virgil stopped speaking, lost again to whatever was in his head.

Scott swallowed and tried a different tactic. “I think you made a mistake.”

Brown eyes snapped to him immediately. “What?”

“You should have asked Mel out. Lost opportunity, bro.”

Virgil stared at him. “What?”

“She had the hots for you, Virg, and you ignored her.”

“Last time Raoul erupted? She tried to climb me like a tree. Kay had to drag her out of the cockpit.”

It was Scott’s turn to stare. “Really?”

“She was very exuberant in her thanks.”

Scott smiled. “She knows what she likes.” And yes, admittedly, she was very good at climbing, after all Scott was taller. His smile widened.

Virgil’s stare intensified until plain, straight human communication got the message across and his brother groaned. “God, Scott, TMI.”

Total innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. The image is radiating off your skin.”

Scott sniggered.

Distraction achieved.

“Well, I did say you lost an opportunity.”

“That’s fine, Jungle Jim, she’s all yours.”

Scott shrugged. He could always hope. She certainly knew how to press all his buttons. “Still think we should have her over for Christmas?”

“Yeah, Gordon will love it.”

“What about you?”

“I need to speak to Sam.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” A breath. “Just take it easy.”

His brother nodded and returned to staring out at the ocean. “It will be good to get home.”

Scott stood up slowly and sat back down beside his brother. “Yeah, it will.”

So good.

-o-o-o-

“Are we there yet?” Alan’s voice was particularly whiny, no doubt, specifically designed to irritate.

Gordon turned away from the helm to look at him. “Do you see an island in front of us?”

Alan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope.”

“There’s your answer.”

It had been quiet on the bridge for the last few hours. Gordon was grateful for the time to think. A Little Lightning cut through the water ever so smoothly. It was satisfying to see the swell pass by knowing that they were one wave closer to home.

Gordon loved being out on the ocean. It was his native element. But at the moment he longed for the safety of Tracy Island. That last encounter with the whales had its own sense of wonder, but until he understood exactly what the effect was on his older brother, he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

It was weird and unnerving.

And it worried him.

“They been out there long?” Alan was staring at the two men sitting on the bow of the boat.

“Yeah, couple of hours at least.”

“Do you think Virgil is okay?”

No. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Alan eyed him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need protecting. Since when have you become one of them?” He pointed at his eldest brothers.

Gordon sighed. “I’m not. It’s just...I don’t know, okay? It was weird and amazing and I need to talk to him and he was spaced out and his singing was...”

“Weird?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment, but Gordon knew it wouldn’t be long.

Sure enough.

“Do you think Virg can talk to whales?”

“I don’t know, Alan.” It was said on one long exhale.

“He communicated something, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know, okay?” And that was the problem. There was so much they didn’t know. Gordon was itching to get into the in-depth literature, to find out more and fill the gaps in his knowledge so he could help his brother. He would be speaking to Sam as soon as possible, but for the moment, the priority was getting Virgil home.

“Some vacation.” It was said with a pout.

Gordon sighed and shoved on the autopilot before turning to his younger brother. “Alan, out with it.”

“What?”

“What’s bugging you.”

“I thought that was obvious. Virgil going zombie and singing to a whale is enough, don’t you think? As if appendicitis wasn’t dramatic already.”

Gordon stared at Alan. “He is going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You just said so!”

“He sang to a whale, Alan. They are one of the gentlest creatures on the planet. If he was going to choose a weird conversation partner, he chose well.”

“But you don’t know what it did to him!”

“It didn’t do anything to him.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Alan-“

“Don’t lie to me!” The words shot across the bridge and slapped Gordon in the face.

Voice calm and quiet and not a little hurt. “I have never lied to you, Alan.”

Blue fire glared at him. “You haven’t? Not even to protect the littlest one? Scared I might burst into tears.”

Gordon stared at his little brother. “What is it?”

“Have you?!”

“No! I’ve always told you the truth. You know that!” He let out an aggravated breath. “What is wrong, Allie?”

“What do you think? First you, then Virgil, and now this!”

“What?!” Him? Virgil? Oh...shit. “Virgil is okay. Hell, I’m okay. Allie, we are all fine.”

“That’s what he keeps saying!” Alan shoved a finger in Virgil’s direction. “He’s always fine, even when he’s not. You’re all the same. Big tough guys, nothing is ever wrong. You could be bleeding to death and you’d ‘be fine’. What is wrong with admitting you’re hurt? What is so wrong with being hurt that you have to hide it?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Well, you know what? I’m scared and I’m sick of hiding it. Virgil nearly fell out of the damned sky with his infected appendix. It could have killed him. And now he’s scaring everyone with this whale thing.” A harshly indrawn breath. “Don’t tell me Scott’s not worried. I’m not stupid.”

Two steps and Gordon was in front of his brother, his hands landing on shoulders that were just that touch higher than his own and tighter strung than Virgil’s piano. “Allie, he’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it is true.”

Something unintelligible and Alan was wrapped around him like a limpet. Gordon held his little brother. It was unusual and alarming. Alan usually went to Scott for comfort. Gordon was for pranks and cohorting. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be worried. You can cry if you need to.”

“I’m not going to cry!” Alan pulled away and glared up at Gordon.

“What?”

“Now you think I’m the baby that needs to bawl on your shoulder?”

“What?!” The hell was going on? Some conscious part of his brain was aware of the yacht’s engine, the high speed they were travelling and the fact autopilot on water was vastly different from the sky and he really should be paying attention. But Alan needed...something. “Allie, you’ve lost me. What do you want?!”

“I want Virgil to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

“We are okay!”

“Then stop scaring me!”

“I didn’t scare you!”

“You....you terrified me, Gordon. You terrified all of us.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still hurt.”

“Aww, Allie...” What could he do?

“And now, here you are ‘okay’, and it could happen again, and...” A shaky swallow. “I’m scared, okay? You’re fine. Virgil’s fine. But you’re not, and...I’m not okay...okay?”

This time it was Gordon wrapping his arms around his not so little brother. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

Muffled into Gordon’s shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“No.” But he should have realised it was still messing with his little brother. Alan was the least experienced of them all. Gordon had seen things, done things, things that hopefully Alan would never have to experience. Quietly. “I think Virgil is a little freaked out. I don’t think he understands what happened much more than we do. But we are going to find out. I’m going to speak to Sam. We’re going to do some research and we will find out why the song affected Virgil the way it did. But he is okay, Alan. Tracy’s honour. A little shaken up. A little worried. But he is okay. We’ll work through this like we always do.”

His brother’s arms tightened around him just that little bit more, but Alan didn’t say anything.

A rustle of fabric and Gordon looked up to see John standing in the doorway staring at them with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“John?”

Alan startled and pulled away immediately. Turquoise followed his every move.

A slow blink and John stepped onto the bridge. “Eos is deciphering the song. We have a good idea as to why Virgil reacted the way he did.” It was said calmly and factually for such a great discovery.

“You do?” Alan found his voice first.

Those eyes latched onto Gordon’s. “We do.”

The helm beeped.

A blink and Gordon was back at the wheel, scanning their position. A mass of volcanic rock and tropical reef appeared on navigational sensors.

A familiar chunk of rock and reef.

Tracy Island.

Home.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Five.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #kermadec fic

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1989dreamer · 7 years ago

Text

Raw? No.

This is for @imyoursourwolf

Happy Birthday! I hope you like it.

Takes place in a what-if after Season 4 canon ends.

Title is taken from Stiles and Scott’s discussion of eating rabbits in Season 1

Everything is bright.

Derek stumbles as he trots out into the light. He’s been sleeping for too long, he thinks. He shakes his head, sniffs the air, and sneezes.

Standing upwind from his den, and probably the reason Derek is no longer snuggled deep in his burrow, Stiles whistles again.

“Here, boy,” he calls, winking at Derek.

Derek growls at him and turns around to head back into his den. Stiles can go away. He won’t get Derek to come home just yet.

It’s more comfortable living as a wolf now. He feels more in touch with his family’s land. It has nothing to do with the fact that things have gone sideways since the battle in Mexico with Kate and her berserkers. Scott is posturing , trying to reaffirm his status as an alpha after very nearly being an undead pawn for eternity. That means shunning all reminders of bad things in his life, one of which is Derek. At least, that’s the excuse Scott gave Derek when he came to turn him out of his loft and run him out of town.

Derek isn’t hiding out here in the preserve, but he certainly isn’t going to make it easier for anyone to find him. In fact, he isn’t sure how Stiles, human Stiles, found him.

“Oh, come on,” Stiles grumbles, crawling up the steep hill on hands and feet, clutching at roots and sending bits of grass and leaves tumbling down. Derek sighs, letting his head droop.

He should have known that Stiles wouldn’t let him go.

Stiles is the only one still looking after him.

Derek sighs again and turns around, padding down to where Stiles is trying to climb the hill. He nudges him with his snout, poking and huffing and sneaking a lick or three in while Stiles fights his way upright.

“Fine!” Stiles shouts suddenly. “I give up!” He sits on his butt and starts sliding down the hill. Derek watches him, head cocked. It looks like fun, honestly.

He whuffs softly, plopping onto his hindquarters and shoving off with his paws.

Stiles stands up at the bottom of the incline, dusting himself off when Derek barrels into him and sends him sprawling.

Derek licks Stiles’ face and jumps away quickly before he can retaliate.

Surprisingly, worryingly, Stiles remains still for a few minutes. Derek nuzzles him, sniffing and inhaling as deep as he can. Stiles smells a little hurt, scrapes and bumps. Nothing major. So why isn’t he moving?

Derek sits down with a thump next to Stiles’ head and lies down so he can stare at him. Stiles opens one eye and sighs at him.

“Are you done?”

Derek shrugs as best he can with canine shoulders.

Stiles sits up, picking at his palm, which, Derek can see, is abraded enough that it looks sore. Derek shuffles closer, leaning his nose against Stiles’ wrist, pulling the pain easily and quickly. Stiles still yelps and jerks away.

“Asshole,” he says fondly, inspecting his palm. “Are you done hiding away and moping like the overgrown puppy you resemble?”

Derek huffs, looks away. Scott doesn’t want him in Beacon Hills. And since Scott is the alpha, Derek will have to leave.

He thought they’d been getting on, but apparently being kidnapped by Kate Argent was somehow Derek’s fault, and now they were back where they started and Scott hated him again.

He tries to convey this to Stiles with his eyes and his ears, but Stiles lacks the capability of understanding his facial expressions and just taps at Derek’s brow with an amused smirk on his face.

“You totally still have your eyebrows,” he says. “Right now, they’re trying to tell me something. But, dude, all I’m hearing is the glaring silence. If you want me to understand, you’ll have to turn back into a human.”

Derek glances around. He doesn’t know where he left his clothes. It’s been a few weeks at least. They won’t smell like him now so he can’t go searching for them. He doesn’t really want to shift back where anyone will be able to see his junk and ogle him. He doesn’t think Stiles would do it since he seemed respectful of Derek’s personal bubble after the Danny-incident.

It’s worth the risk, he decides, if only to talk to Stiles with his vocal chords again.

He doesn’t count on two things. One, Stiles is completely flabbergasted when he shifts back to his human form, stuttering, blinking, and looking everywhere but at Derek. And two, Derek hasn’t spoken in at least three weeks. His vocal chords don’t want to cooperate so his “Hello” ends up being indecipherable.

Stiles seems to find his voice at the same time that Derek does, and they both start to say something over each other.

Stiles pauses. Derek pauses too.

Stiles smiles shyly. “You first,” he offers.

“I need to leave town,” Derek says, and tries not to feel elation at the way Stiles’ face falls.

“Oh,” he says. “I was just going to say that it’s good to see you. Not that I haven’t been seeing you in your wolf-form, but it’s nice to actually see your face and talk to you.”

“How did you find me?” Derek asks. Stiles flushes, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Uh, yeah, about that.” He coughs. “I had my dad keep an eye on the preserve. You know, just in case we ever had an actual mountain lion to worry about. He mentioned that he’d seen a black wolf hanging around this hill, and I put it together that it was you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you come looking for me?”

Stiles stares at the ground, picking at his hand again. Derek reaches out and grips his wrist to draw his pain again. Stiles flinches at his touch, and Derek pulls back.

“I missed you,” Stiles mumbles. “One day you were laughing and hanging out with us, and the next you took off into the woods never to be seen again.”

“You missed me?” Derek is incredulous. No one missed him. He could fall off the face of the earth and no one would be any wiser. Except Stiles, a tiny voice pipes up. Who came back for him in the pool with the kanima? Stiles. Who galvanized the troops to head down to Mexico the first time to rescue Derek? Stiles. Who traipsed into the woods on the word of his father and found where Derek was hiding? Stiles.

Stiles missed him.

“Why do you have to leave town?” Stiles asks.

Derek sighs. Werewolf politics suck. “Posturing,” he says.

“Posturing?” Stiles repeats. “Like, what? Scott thinks you’re going to kill him for his alpha power? Wouldn’t you have already done that if you wanted power again?”

“I wouldn’t kill Scott,” Derek mutters. The only time he actually wanted to kill Scott was…never. He has truly never wanted to kill the kid. Yes, he used to threaten him with death, but how else do you make a teenager see reason? Ignore the alpha threat and die? No thanks. Kiss the daughter of the hunter family and die? Doubly no thanks. Even though Scott never listened, Derek would never have killed him.

“Is Scott going to kill you?”

“No.” At least, Derek doesn’t think so. For an answer to that question, he’d have to visit Scott, and that is not something he is ready to do quite yet.

“Then what’s this posturing bullshit?”

“Scott’s reasserting himself as the alpha. He has let me know that there is no place for me here. So, I have to leave town.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says.

“What?” Derek demands, irritable. “What’s bullshit about that?”

“Scott doesn’t want you to leave. He’s been talking about asking you to join officially.”

“No,” Derek says. “I want no part in Scott’s pack. He is a good wolf, he’ll be a good man, but I can’t forgive him for what he’s done to me.”

Stiles purses his lips for a long moment before nodding. “That’s fair. So, do you still have to leave town?”

“That’s something I’d have to ask Scott. If he asks me to prostrate to him, then I’m leaving immediately.”

“Again, fair,” Stiles says. “How about we go ask him? And then, maybe you can come to my house for a decent meal. I’m sure you haven’t really been eating anything good out here.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Rabbits and squirrels go down nice,” Derek says. Stiles stares at him, and Derek shrugs. He’s not joking. He was living as a wolf. Wolves eat other animals.

“Whatever,” Stiles finally says. “That just proves you need something normal, like a hamburger.”

Derek sighs. “I’m naked, Stiles. I can’t exactly go into town right now.”

“Oh yes you can,” Stiles says, winking mischievously. “Who else gets to be naked and outside? Dogs. What can you turn into? A dog!”

“A wolf,” Derek corrects. Stiles is right though; if Derek shifts back into his full-wolf form, he could quite literally stroll into town and go to the sheriff’s house with Stiles. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

“Really? I thought that’d take more convincing.”

Derek shrugs. “You said you’d give me a hamburger. Let’s go.”

He drops into a crouch, stretching out his limbs quickly and snapping teeth that sharpen from human blunt. He lets his eyes go blue, shaking his head until it snaps into the elongated jaw and snout of his wolf form. Stiles watches appreciatively as he shifts fully and stands up on four limbs.

“That will never get old,” Stiles says. “My Jeep is just ahead. We’ll ride into town and stop at the diner. Hope you like deep fried Twinkies for dessert.”

Derek lopes alongside Stiles, winding around his legs as they move. He couldn’t care less about the food really. He’s just happy that Stiles found him again.

He tips his head back and lets out a happy howl.

~ Fin ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Wolf!Derek #My Story/My Writing #Birthday Gift

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hale-of-stiles-heart · 7 years ago

Note

damn it, here I'm again: how about sterek + (those are all so perfect dear lord someone send help) "I picked up what I thought was a stray on the side of the road last night and it turns out you’re a werewolf. Um. Can I offer you some pancakes?"

This was such a fun prompt to work with! (also on ao3)

Stiles had a history with strays.

Ever since he could walk, toddling around the Stilinski home as fast as his tiny little legs could carry him, he had an affinity for animals. More specifically, taking in any animal in need.

Living in a residential neighborhood adjacent to the local woods meant that he had never been lacking in that department. He couldn't throw a stone around their neighborhood without finding a baby bird that had fallen from its nest or a dog that had wandered out of its yard.

In the creek behind their house, buried in the woods by a groove of black willows and white alders, he used to catch redwood salamanders and Cascades frogs. He would wade knee deep into the water in search of the sneaky amphibians, never caring that his pants got soaked.

He would keep them in an old fish tank, arranging algae covered rocks in the water of the terrarium so his new pets could spend time on land. He used to spend hours digging up worms in the backyard so he could feed his amphibians.

Of course, they eventually died — wild animals weren't meant to be in captivity, after all — and Stiles had been devastated. He had cried for hours, until his eyes were red and puffy and his throat was sore.

A few months later, he found an abandoned squirrel pup in their front yard. There had been no nest in sight, nor any mother squirrel searching for her lost baby.

The pup was cold to the touch and Stiles refused to risk letting the pup freeze to death while waiting for its mother. John had reluctantly agreed and allowed Stiles to adopt the squirrel.

For the next several weeks, he dutifully nursed the squirrel pup with an eyedropper full of puppy milk. He set up a nest for it inside, composed of old t-shirts and ripped socks that made a perfect bed for the tiny pup.

It had been a bittersweet day when Claudia had informed Stiles that it was time for the squirrel to leave. They had released it in the backyard where it ran right up a nearby sycamore tree, chattering away as though saying goodbye.

After the squirrel came a blind kitten they found wandering through the neighborhood, mewling pitifully. Stiles had snuck the kitten into his room and cared for it under his parents' noses for weeks until his mom went looking for something in his room and stumbled onto his little secret.

Unfortunately, with Stiles in elementary school while both of his parents worked full-time, they just didn't have the time or resources to care for a special needs cat. But luckily there was an older woman who ran a cat sanctuary a few towns over.

After taking the cat in, she had assured Stiles that he could visit anytime he wanted. And he did, his mom driving him over every other weekend.

Next came an entire litter of puppies that he begged to keep, only for his dad to painstakingly explain why adopting six Tibetan mastiffs was not a very good idea. And after that was the mountain lion cub that he somehow found on one of his exploration through the woods.

John nearly had a heart attack when he came home from a double shift to find his son cuddling the baby of a two hundred pound killing machine.

He then had to inform Stiles that a mountain lion was not a pet. Park rangers had been called in and the cub was safely returned to its den for its mother find.

But Stiles' affinity for taking in strays never wavered. Even as he got older.

In high school, he worked at the vet clinic with his friend Scott, just so he could help out any animals in need. It was better than working some crappy retail job like many of his classmates.

And it was a great reprieve from the everyday stress of high school. If he was ever feeling particularly stressed, he would just call up Deaton and volunteer for an additional shift.

Basically, his job consisted of bottle feeding kittens and doing trial introductions for potential pet adopters. It was a pretty sweet gig apart from the occasional bittersweet moments when animals were adopted.

Even after he moved out of Beacon Hills to attend Stanford he made a point of dedicating his time to animals, getting a job at the local pet store just outside of town. So it was no surprise to anyone that while on break in Beacon Hills, he didn't hesitate to pull over to check on what looked like a stray dog standing on the side of the road.

He had been driving in from Stanford, having enough days off for Thanksgiving break to warrant the drive back to Beacon Hills. Drumming his fingers against Roscoe's steering wheel while imagining the amazing meal his dad would be making in a few days, Stiles had been absorbed in his own thoughts.

Until he noticed a dark shape in the shoulder of the forest road leading into town. His interest immediately piqued, he had pulled over to get a better look at whatever the dark shape was.

Lo and behold, it was a dog. A stray by the looks of it.

The dog was huge, probably some sort of wolf dog hybrid that someone had purchased on a whim then realized the complications of the hybrid. Its coat was jet black with a few grizzled spots around its muzzle.

Fortunately, the dog didn't seem undernourished or injured in any way. And it wasn't wearing a collar let alone a tag bearing an address or phone number.

But what really caught Stiles' attention was the dog's eyes. He hadn't thought dogs could have hazel eyes with that much green in them, captivated by the specks of gold and rivers of bluish silver in the canine's irises.

His heart instantly captured, Stiles had coaxed the dog closer with a few soft words and careful touches. He had been glad to find that the dog was a gentle giant, docile and sweet as Stiles scratched it behind its ears.

With plans to take the dog to the vet clinic first thing in the morning to check for an implanted ID chip, Stiles had corralled the dog into his Jeep and continued his drive home. His dad hadn't even bothered to act surprised when Stiles showed up on the front doorstep with a stray in tow.

But, of course, because Stiles' life could never be normal for more than a few months at a time, it turned out that the stray he had picked up was much more than meets the eye. He found that out the hard way the next morning.

After a wondrous night curled up in bed where he actually got the recommended eight hours of sleep, Stiles woke early in the morning craving pancakes. But not just any pancakes; his mother's famous pancakes.

They were fluffier than a cloud and had just a hint of vanilla, making them perfect for any kind of syrup under the sun from traditional maple to boysenberry. His mom had always made them on special occasions, especially holidays, which made them perfect for Thanksgiving break.

Once he brushed his teeth and took care of some other hygienic needs, he tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, careful not to wake his dad. He hurried past the living room couch where the stray dog he had picked up had spent the night, too preoccupied with his thoughts to pause and greet the dog.

He was in the middle of flipping pancakes, adding an extra bit of flair the way his mom had taught him, when he heard the telltale pad of bare feet on the kitchen tiles. Beaming, he looked over his shoulder, cheerfully greeting, "Mornin', pops— Uh... You're not my dad..."

He was pretty much stating the obvious since the tall, bearded, naked man standing in the kitchen was clearly not his father. The aforementioned bearded, naked man said as much, simply stating, "Uh, no."

"Are-Are we being robbed?" Stiles asked, turning the heat on the stove down and tightening his grip on the metal spatula in his hand in case they really were being robbed. "Because, I gotta say, this is fucking weird, man. You're not even wearing pants."

The mystery man's eyes widened almost comically as he tensed and rushed to cup his hands over his crotch. His cheeks flushed, drawing Stiles' attention back to his eyes. His eyes that were oddly familiar.

Hazel-green with gold and silver. Holy shit.

"Shit, you're a werewolf, aren't you?" Stiles groaned, feeling his own face flush. He had practically kidnapped someone! Because he thought they were a stray!

The yet to be introduced man just nodded, still looking embarrassed as all hell. Stiles let out a sigh, "Keep an eye on the pancakes. I'll be right back."

He waited for the werewolf to nod before he slipped out of the kitchen and back upstairs to the laundry room where he rifled around for a clean pair of pajama pants. After finding his baggiest pair, he hurried back downstairs where he was met with an eyeful of the werewolf's firm ass and the tattoo between his shoulder blades.

"Uh, here. These should fit ya," Stiles announced after clearing his throat, holding out the red pajama pants that just so happened to be patterned with white dog bones. Turning his head to give Mr. No Name some privacy, he wandered back over to the stovetop where his pancakes were still cooking. "I'm Stiles, by the way."

"Derek," the Sheriff's voice returned, managing to make Stiles' cheeks flush even deeper. He craned his neck to take a peek at his dad who was embracing the now only half naked werewolf, a friendly smile on his face. "Son, this is Derek Hale, my new deputy."

"Of course it is," Stiles mumbled, hanging his head as he poked at one of the pancakes with the spatula. Sparing another glance over his shoulder, he watched Derek and his dad plop down at the kitchen table.

"So... Can I offer you some pancakes?" Stiles asked, meeting Derek's mesmerizing eyes.

"Yeah, why not," Derek answered smoothly, sending Stiles a sly wink when the Sheriff wasn't looking.

It may have been one of the most embarrassing moments of his life but it made one hell of a 'how I met your father' story.

#sterek #au #first meetings #meet cute #pre-slash #full shift derek #werewolves are known #awkwardness #embarrassed stiles #naked derek #because reasons #my fic #fic #xamberry

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skeletonwoman · 8 years ago

Text

Omeg-awd (Derek)

this title has like .5% of anything to do with this fic but i don’t know if i’ll ever have another omega-centric fic and i’m not one to let titles pass me by so here you go bby

Warning: PTSD behaviours, panic attack and

Request: what if you were an omega that has come to beacon hills and Derek oddly has a sweet spot for you. Only problem is you've been through hell and is very flinchy and scared all the time. (Can be whatever you think fits best) I dont know if this is good, but if I'm not gonna write it might as well ask someone who can

ily requester

“You obviously like her.” Scott sighs, watching as Lydia holds a purple dress up to you.

“I- What? I’ve never liked- I’ve never liked anyone in my life!” Derek scoffs, gaping comically and Peter huffs a soft chuckle.

“I can attest to that.”

You peek over your shoulder at the three of them, a small smile on your lips and Derek feigns a blank mask.

Holding your ground, you pressed your lips together hard and watched the alpha circle you. You couldn’t help quaking just the minutest bit with every step he took.

Bowing your head, you stared hard at his feet, trying to pretend that there weren’t four others in the clearing with you.

“What’s your name?” The alpha demands and you take a slow, steadying breath.

“Y/N.” Your voice doesn’t waver and it fills you with a flimsy confidence. You might by as jumpy as a doe in hunting season, but you’ve always had a steady voice in the worst of circumstances.

“What’re you doing in our territory, Y/N?” The alpha stops circling and instead stands above you like a god. Your skin crawls.

The others around him step up beside him, nearly even with him and while it’s unusual, you’re not about to question this hierarchy.

“I’m an omega, I only do one thing.” You snip, clenching your teeth once the words are past your lips. Bracing for a blow, you try not to quiver as the moment drags.

“That’s fair.” The alpha seems to chuckle and it makes your insides curdle. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you let your eyes flicker to the men and women around him, but it doesn’t help. “Are you looking for sanctuary or passage?”

One of his people grunts, or snorts, and you shiver at the sound. The brush behind you shakes and you nearly trip in your tiny jump forward.

“Check it out.” The alpha orders and one of them peels away, the girl, and he exhales a sigh. “You’re welcome to remain in our territory for as long as you need, I don’t expect you’ll hang around long.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You gasp, letting your gaze flicker to where his heart rests.

“None of my pack will harm you while you’re here. What’s the word…” He’s telling the truth and you don’t even notice the soft answer from his side and the short jokes between him and whoever answered him.

“Look! A squirrel.” The woman calls, throwing a bloody little mass of fur between you and the alpha and your fingers twitch. You want it. So badly, you’re so bad at catching anything to eat.

“What the f- Dammit, Malia.” The Alpha snaps, taking a few steps back and your hand snatches forward and you hold the squirrel in a tight grip.

“Is this for real?”

“Scott.”

“Why is she…? Wait, what?”

“Tell her she can’t have it.”

“Why, she wants it?”

“It’s probably diseased, tell her she can’t have it.” The insistence of the voice worries you. Maybe he wants the squirrel, and you’d have to give it up.

“Drop it.” The Alpha orders and your fingers release the bloody morsel automatically and you hear one of the three relax. Your gaze doesn’t move from the wasted meal. In the dirt, discarded. “We’ll feed you.”

The red-haired girl gazes at you curiously. Malia sits across the room, watching you pityingly. The Alpha consults with the Insistent Voice from earlier and the human.

“What was your name again?” The red-haired girl asks and you stare at her for a second, stock still before you chew fast and swallow hard.

“Y/N.” You answer, ducking your chin and filling your mouth with another forkful of the fried rice.

“Has anyone told you who we are?” She asks and you shake your head once, not looking up. She’s high ranked, with how disregards the Alphas presence. Even Malia, who was in the field at his side, gravitates around him.

“I’m Lydia.” She says, ducking some and forcing you to meet her eyes. “The other girl over there is Malia, and the human over there’s name is Stiles.”

You track the people as she says their names, watching as they individually look up at the sound of their name before avoiding your gaze.

“Beside Malia sits Isaac, and on the couches are Liam, a Beta and Mason, the human.” She continues and you inhale a long breath, your head tilting as you take in the boy beside the human. His cheeks flush and his body tilts toward Mason as if for a shield. “Beside Mason is Cory, a Chameleon.”

A chameleon.

You blink at the rarity owlishly. You’d never met one but your mom had told you legends of them and where they sat on the fence. They might not have danced along it like Banshees, but they sat on it, their legs swinging over the side of the living. The subtle opposite of the Wild Hunt.

You’d loved her legends of the realm of the living dead. Banshees who were queens of an entire hidden world. Hell hounds who ran into a battle like an avenging knight and walked out of a pile of corpses and back to their waiting Banshee.

When she’d spoken of the dead realm, it’d always put chills down your spine but you couldn’t deny the curiosities.

But in all the legends, nothing was clearer than that the Banshees were rulers, above Alphas, the Wild Hunt, the Hellhounds and any other creature that faced against them. Chameleons included.

“Those two girls are Kira and Allison. Allison is another human, from a Hunter family-” You flinch violently before you can brace and Lydias words die on her lips. You want her to continue, but you’ve made it weird and your throat is getting tight.

Setting down your fork, your eyes go to the closest exit.

“And by our Alpha over there is Derek Hale.” She continues hurriedly and your racing heartbeat slows. That’s a name.

A huge name.

Your eyes slide over the dark-haired man, the insistent voice, and he stares right back at you. You remember your mother making jokes about betrothing you to “the little Hale prince”. She made the joke so often, for a while you thought it was a fact, that he was a prince and you’d become a princess.

Instead, your world had come crashing down with a rogue alpha and a pack of hunters that’d been tracking him.

“Scott is our Alpha. A true alpha.” Lydia continues, though your gaze hasn’t broken from Dereks until the words work themselves into your brain. Suffused with amazement, your gaze clashes with the Alphas and the kindness in his eyes drains the blood from your face.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Scott smiles and you drop your gaze. Shovelling in another mouthful of food, you chew fast.

“She needs new clothes, any unperishable food she can carry, new shoes and either a haircut or a hairbrush.” Derek says, drawing Scotts attention, and yours right along with it.

“Sure, sure. What else?”

“I can’t remember, we just need it fast. I remember Mom didn’t meet many omegas, the territory had too much status, but mostly, they were gone before she could help them.” Derek continues, the stench of grief wafting from his pores. You feel your own rise up to meet it and his gaze flickers to you curiously.

“You’ll look so pretty, you just have to wear this.” Lydia fusses about you, throwing the dress in her hands onto the couch and picking the brush back up. Your new haircut had your hair much shorter and there were no knots anymore.

You squeak softly as she roughly tears the brush through a knot. Maybe a few domestic knots, the kind of knots of a pack wolf.

Across the room Derek is scowling at Scott and Peter. His ears are a soft pink and you feel a surge of affection for him.

“Derek.” You say, glad when the three of them look up. Beckoning the wolf to your side, the other two share a look and smile that doesn’t make much sense. “I’m confused about what is happening tonight?”

Lydia pauses in brushing your hair and she shares a look with Derek. They think something wrong, obviously. You’re rescuing him from his family.

“We’re all just going to a club because Malia bullied everyone else into a night of dancing.”

A growl sounds across the room and you feel yourself go still, your gaze boring into Dereks eyes.

The quick movement of his hand has you flinching, even though you don’t feel threatened by him. His eyes cloud over, and you let your gaze drop to the hand that had just flipped over. You stare at the palm before you, watching him slide it toward you.

Lifting your own hand, you hesitantly set it in his and he exhales a relief filled breath.

“You’ll be safe, we’ll all be right there and if you want to leave at any time, I hope you’ll come to me before any of the others. Any reason to cut tonight short.” He grumbles playfully and you nod, letting a smile twitch at your lips.

“I’ll find you.”

“Good.”

“Let’s get you dressed.” Lydia says, pulling your hand from Dereks and snatching up the dress. You don’t look back as you follow her, the muscles in your shoulder tight and ready if someone tries to jump you from behind.

The music is twenty shades of too much, to say the least.

You’d been groped, in turn nearly revealed your supernatural secret, whisked from the dancefloor, plied with bitter alcohol that did nothing for you and all night you’d been ducking left and right from imaginary foes.

You’re safe, you’ve been told, assured and promised that you’re safe but your body just can’t compute and every time someone throws their arms in the air you’re filled with raw fear.

Dereks arm rests over your shoulders and you’re tucked tight into his side.

You feel bad, you’re cramping his style and ruining his fun night but every time you try to move, he gives you half a glare and you sigh and lean back into him.

“We can leave in half an hour.” Derek whispers to you, the words flimsy compared to the thumping beat and you’re glad of your werewolf ears.

Scott shoots him a look from across the table and Derek smirks at the young alpha.

“We don’t have to go, I don’t want to ruin your night.” You whisper back and he laughs, sighing lazily as he presses his forehead to yours. His breath runs over your lips and you force yourself not to tilt your face and bridge the tiny gap that separates your lips.

You’re torn up inside and you can’t let anyone love you until you’re better, it’s just better that way.

“C’mere.” Derek rumbles, his expression lazy and sleepy. He looks warm, rumpled and comfy and you ache to do just as he says.

“I- I can’t, I need to get the- thing.” You say, instead darting around the back of the couch, only to scream as he captures you and pulls you over the back and into his arms. Your heart races a mile a second and you feel your muscles lock up.

It’s Derek, you know it’s Derek, but you can’t physically see him and your brain feels like it’s going to explode.

“Y/N, inhale.” Derek orders softly, adjusting your paired positions so his eyes fill your gaze and you feel yourself hiccup on nothing, panic filling you the more you try to inhale. His warm palm settles over your mouth, stilling you and you blink at him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

His palm leaves your lips and you inhale a short breath, the panic leeching from your skin.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry.” He says, his worry stark in his expression and you nod. You’re not going to say it was okay, it wasn’t.

“I accept your apology.” You say, the words even and devoid of emotion and a smile twitches his lips.

“Thank you. I’m still sorry.” He agrees, raising his hand slowly enough for you to stop him, before he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. When he doesn’t make a move to remove his hand, you sigh and he presses his forehead to yours.

Love, want and affection fill the air, spiced with touches of need and regret.

You’re dizzy on the scent and your eyes fall closed to breath in the sweet smell.

“I’m sick.” You say before he can make a move and he nods a little, your head moving with the movement. “I want to get better.”

“You will.”

“Alone.”

“I know.” He answers, a smile in his voice and it makes you pause.

“You’re- You know and you’re-”

“I’ve been there and I get it, I’ll be whatever you need when you need it. We all will.” He promises and you feel the wound up feeling in your chest unravel, your body melting against his and the couch back. “You have a home here, you have a home with me.”

excuse my awkward randomized capitalization of the wolf terms (idk, honestly)

also excuse any mistakes and ugly bits that’re in there- soz

#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #derek hale imagine #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfic #derek fic #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fic #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #tw

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riisinaakka-draws · 8 years ago

Photo

It has only been a little over a year since I started watching the show and joined the Black Sails fandom. I posted my first fanart exactly one year ago and it was the one above. Thus far I have drawn over 100 of them. I tried different mediums and styles, both for practice and for capturing the essence of the things I wanted to share. Some of them are great, some are silly, some are a bit out of character or not so good in other ways and some ended up surprising me in many ways. All are nonetheless very precious to me.

Under the read more there's a list of all my doodles thus far. Most of them feature Flint, Silver or both of them (there will be more of the other characters in the future, no worries). I have to admit I laughed quite a lot while going through these again. This is a really long post.

This is a list to show what sort of things there are and also for my own amusement and archiving purposes. The list is in chronological order, from first to the latest.

I tried to make this as concise as possible, but the tag/navigation page is here if you want to find something specific or don’t want to go through all this:

- Flint takes care of Silver's leg in the darkness of the captain's cabin.

- Some quick doodles of Flint, ballpoint pen

- Sharkdate cuties (really scrappy doodles of Silver gazing at munching Flint)

- Progress. A continuation to previous pic. Silver holding a cup, covered in blood and looking affectionally at Flint. Here’s a giffed version.

- Silver and Flint go for a night walk in winter and Flint finds the streetlights amusing. Modern Au, beanies and the BS logo

- “See any treasures, Capt'n?” Billy to Flint who is looking at something “shiny” with his spyglass.

- What if Silver stole that certain ponytail and made it into "a rabbit's foot"? And what if Flint had a medallion with pictures of the Hamiltons and later a lock of dark curls... I returned to this idea several times after this, lol. (still secretly wishing that anyone would write a ficlet about this).

- Overload of Blackbeard - several doodles of different adaptations of BB

- Shark hunting. Flint has the shark on his lap and Silver stands in front of him. Composition inspired by that infamous Wolwerine and Nightcrawler cover.

- A gif of Blackbeard with flowers in his beard (I share a birthday with Ray Stevenson, that's why).

- a quick sketch of displeased Jack

- The Red Lollipop. Flint eating candy which is distracting to Silver, inspired by this awesome post (x). Silver steals the sweets and peels some potatoes. Bonus: Randall and Betsy the Cat.

- Draw me like one of your quatermasters... Flint doodles sleeping Silver in the Captain's log.

- Random sketches of Silver and Flint. Learning to draw their faces

- Flint with a horrible mustache and Silver with a long braided beard. (I should redraw this someday..)

- Flint takes Silver for a ride (modern Au with motorcycles). The Walrus gang follows "the flagship"

- Black Sails moomin AU, part I (I had so much fun with these).

The domestic modern beach au serie with 15+ doodles, various characters, inspired by this hilarious post (x). - Jack takes pictures of everything and Vane ends up buried in the sand - Silver puts some lotion on Flint (Billy tosses people up in the background) - Max and Anne Bonny enjoying each other's company - Rogers is going to get hit by a beach ball "accidentally". Anne, Max, Vane and Jack in the background - Ben Gunn shows his ship kite to Billy Bones - Vane and Flint swim butterfly. Silver (*.*) - Vane flips his hair like a merman, Eleanor is drinking and enjoying the view. - Mr Scott and Mr Gates enjoy their drinks at the bar while others fight in the water. Max and Eleanor gossip together. Anne and Jack hold hands like otters on swim rings. - Silver and Flint sleeping on the sun, Flint has a book on his face - The Ranger Crew swimming. Jack is slathered in sun lotion, Anne waits for him and Vane makes a joke. + Mysterious swimming trunks. - Silver is the sneakiest shit and likes to creep underwater and drag people down by their legs. - Silver and Flint eating ice cream + some early sketches in a gif - the Fucking Warship (minivan) rides to sunset, Vane is forgotten in the sand but do not worry...

- Silver and Flint sing the song "Dynamic Duet" from Starkids' Holy musical B@tman!

- Nooooooooo! Flint shaves his head, Silver doesn't take it well.

- Silver's character development. From little shit to actual scary fuck

- A HUG. (silverflint, done before s4. I really needed a hug)

- Bloodthirsty Bunny & Squinting Squirrel, (furries, i am so sorry)

- Flint brings water to Silver, a scene from the show. <3

- Sweetness of touch. Flint gets his hair/head touched by his loved ones.

The Walrus crew acquires some chicken. A lot of them. And a parrot. - Billy and Joji are tending them - people playing board games and ignoring the chickens - a coc- I mean a rooster between Silver's legs - Silver holding some chickens and Flint meeting "the Captain Flint"

- Flint gets his ginger crown back...sort of

Chickens, part II. Flint sends his regards. Teach has taken Anne and Jack to fishing and they get a surprise "gift" from the Walrus.

Fanart about Silverfin, a thrilling and unbeliavably funny (nsfw) silverflint fic by @jadedbirch and @zoinomiko (can’t tag u for some reason..).

Go read it :D I made some (sfw) fanart inspired by it (spoilers). - a comic of the tragic night - reunion and crowns (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

- (a recap, not really a tutorial) about some of my messy work methods.

- Anne Bonny, without her hat, ready to kick your ass, season 3

- A portait of Max

- Every fashionable pirate captain needs a hat! Silver buys some silly pirate hats. Inspired by @vowel-in-thug's fic (part V, nsfw) and the CBeebies Bedtime Story etc.

- "Support". Silver and Flint approaching the Maroon camp.

- A portrait of Long John Silver on his way of becoming the legend

- Swords and time. James McGraw - Captain Flint. Sword placement comparison, gif experiments etc. (I really like this one)

- A canary. Flint finds a sad-looking caged bird aboard a merchant ship and then reads books to it in his cot. Inspired by @old-long-john's sweet and beautiful fic (x). Also thanks to @captain-flint for spotting the bird cage in s1.

Inktober 2016, 20+ doodles, various characters - Silver, a sad little face doodle - A bringer of death and destruction (Flint as an angel of sorts). Quick doodle with a brush - Silver and Flint. A little doodle with an ink-dipped cotton swap - "Hungry", Silver and Flint find the whale and prepare to hunt sharks. - "SAD?" NOT TODAY! There's always Silver Lining. Silly and shitty puns. - "Hidden", The treasure has been buried. - "LOST", Silver and Flint look for a bird on board the Walrus. - "ROCK", Ben Gunn and Billy Bones play rock-paper-scissors. (sorry, still no better doodle of them) - "BROKEN", Benjamin Hornigold misses his chair. - "Lock the door", Flint on the floor of his cabin when they were becalmed ;_; - "TRANSPORT", Anne Bonny takes Jack Rackham to safety on a horse. - Madi, a little sketch - "Dufresne admires his new tattoo" - "TREE", What difference does it make? Captain Naft shares his insight. Froom and Crisp agree. Morley and Randall (+ Betsy the Cat) are not impressed (for obvious reasons...). - "RELAX", A nice afternoon at the seaside with some of the brothel girls - A little sketch of John Silver again, because I cannot resist him. - "Flint has a meeting with Death". - "ESCAPE", Flint has retired and Silver still sails the seas. Occasionally he visits James and steals some of his baked goods (with some help from his crew and birdies). - "FLIGHT", a sketch of a parrot on a napkin - "SQUEEZE", Jack Rackham enjoying his bath - "LITTLE", a little sketch of Max and Anne kissing in little rain, under Anne's huge hat. - "Surprise", Charles Vane lurking in the water - "And then! You won't believe what the.." Hal Gates and Billy Bones spend their free afternoon gossiping and having fun - "Forget-me-not" / "one dozen", Miranda finds some familiar flowers and thinks about Thomas. - "BURN", Thomas, James and Miranda, just eyes. Inspired by the powermetal duet "Wish I Had An Angel"

- Oooh, What does my reflection shoooow ~. (Lovable) Little shit.

- Accidents with the spyglass. Flint acts like an asshole, Billy and Gates are having none of it, Silver is yet to learn.

- Death builds a raft and follows the Walrus.

- Portrait of Eleanor, the Merchant Queen of Nassau

- "long johns and puns". Silver is looking for a new pirate style and Billy offers to help.

- Black Sails Moomin AU - part II

- Silver at the wrecks, light and visual practise

- Eleanor Guthrie and James Flint, looking in / out. visual practise, parallels and contrasts

- My Heart Will Go On, but I'll keep your ponytail and get a parrot for my duets. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

- Muldoon's tattoo ;_;

Some of the following have season 4 spoilers:

- Eleanor does some embroidery (of bees and fuck-yous)

- How Silver gets his new crutch (Israel Hands is handy)

- Flint and the Wanderer above the sea of fog

- Flint's mouth saying FUCK infinitely, a gif experiment

- "That's my wee lad, Gimli." Berringer's locket and asshole Rogers.

- For a moment there was a Hat Trio. Teach, Jack and Anne

- Silver and Madi, canon kiss

- The Spare Ginger. Silver doesn't like Eleanor's plan. Madi and Israel Hands try to comfort him.

- Eleanor Guthrie, a green portrait

- Long John Silver must make a tough choice, while Flint enjoys his capture at Eleanor's expense

- All those extra spyglasses in 4.08. Maybe the answer was Israel Hands' hoarding.

- Fresh air on the balcony of the Walrus. (a drawing of the ship at night). There're celebrations on the deck, Flint and Silver have a private talk.

I find it endearing how this list ends with the balcony one. Like a parallel (ha!) to the first one, where Flint and Silver are having a private moment on board of a ship, although it is a different ship and at a different time. A year ago I had no idea where this all would lead me and how much I would learn and get to experience *pats my past-self in the back awkwardly and fondly*

Looking back at them (doodles) I feel both proud and slightly embarrassed of my enthusiasm. I have never done anything like this for any other fandom. I have never felt so much and had such an urge to engage in this sort of thing.

This show, its creators and crew, this fandom. Just something unbeliavable. I cannot find the words to say how much I appreciate you all. The brilliancy, the humour, the love in all kinds of forms. I am so glad I stumbled on this show (it was a gif or a fanvid about ep 2.05 that made me aware of this show, btw. I cannot remember it clearly anymore and for a moment I thought Crossbones was a pilot for Black Sails and almost missed everything, but that's a story for another time...)

Know this: I have loved sharing this experience (the show, the fandom) with you and I appreciate everything you have given to me or shared with me. I will treasure this. (I apologize not thanking more people individually, but this post would’ve never reached its end otherwise).

*throws hearts and forehead kisses to the best and inspiring fandom and the greatest show that broke my heart and healed my soul so many times*

All the possibilities and love to you. Thank you <3

(This is not a goodbye, btw. There’s still so much more to come!) (◠‿◠✿)

P.S. All this started as doodles so that’s why I have kept using that word eventhough it doesn’t really apply to many of these anymore...

#black sails doodle #anniversary of my descent to black sails hell and heaven #<3 #i can't really think of any tags for this #a list of things I have drawn for bs thus far #for archiving purposes #what a journey :D #I hope this is readable #there are several unfinished ones waiting but i am not going to spoil the fun yet #i hope there aren't many errors in links or tags #I won't tag or thank more people individually (at least in this post...sorry)#(better to not have too much stuff in one post)

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torontocomics · 8 years ago

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FEBRUARY 21, TORONTO: The Toronto Comic Arts Festival continues its incredible 2017 Festival announcements with its Kids and Young Adult Guests and Programming! Perfect for kids and teens as well as everyone who loves comics for young people, TCAF's extensive Kids and YA Programs offer a chance to meet and interact with some of the biggest names in publishing!

TCAF KIDS DAY 2017: SATURDAY MAY 13

Now in its sixth year, TCAF Kids Day 2017 returns to St. Paul's on Bloor, 227 Bloor Street East (at Church). A full day of programming for young people, including live presentations, draw-alongs, author signings, activities, and much more! Best of all, it's completely free, and none of the activities require tickets: just show up and enjoy! The full details of TCAF Kids Day will be revealed in March, but you can count on many of the great creators listed below taking part! TCAF Kids Day starts at 10am, and concludes right around 5pm.

TCAF KIDS AREA @ TORONTO REFERENCE LIBRARY: SATURDAY MAY 13 & SUNDAY MAY 14

In addition to our special-venue, one-day-only event, TCAF will have an on-site space for kids both days, all day, at Toronto Reference Library in the Beeton Auditorium. There'll always be something fun on for the younger set, so swing by and meet authors, take part in activities, and more!

KIDS & YA FEATURED GUESTS!

TCAF has always been lucky enough to have some of the biggest names in comics for young people attend the Festival, and this year is no different! Check out this list which includes Governor General's Award-Winners, picture-book makers, manga creators, cartoonists galore, and some of the biggest names in Young Adult publishing!

Isabelle Arsenault and Fanny Britt are the team behind Jane, the Fox and Me. It was the winner of the Governor General’s Literary Award for Children’s Illustration (French) and the Joe Shuster Award for Best Writer and Best Artist. It was also named a New York Times Best Illustrated Children’s Book. They're attending TCAF to promote Louis Undercover, out this Fall from Groundwood Books.

Svetlana Chmakova is an award-winning graphic novelist, with over 10 books published, and work translated into 13 languages. Her full-length manga series include the fan-favorite romantic comedy Dramacon, the award-winning urban fantasy Nightschool: The Weirn Books, as well as the manga adaptation of the NYT bestselling Witch & Wizard by James Patterson. Svetlana's current work is the critically-acclaimed and award-winning middle grade graphic novel Awkward, as well as its follow-up Brave published by Yen Press (and debuting at TCAF 2017!).

Elise Gravel is an author illustrator from Montreal, Quebec. A prolific artist, she currently has over thirty children’s books to her name which have been translated into a dozen languages, including I Want a Monster! and The Disgusting Critters series. In 2012, Gravel received the Governor General’s Literary Award for her book The Great Antonio, about the famous Montreal strongman with a heart of gold. Elise will debut her sketchbook, If Found... Please Return to Elise Gravel, with Drawn & Quarterly at TCAF 2017.

Matt Forsythe is a cartoonist and illustrator known for his award-winning comics Ojingogo and Jinchalo, as well as being the lead designer on Adventure Time from 2012-2014. His picture books include My Name is Elizabeth, Warning:Do Not Open This Book, and it's follow-up, Please Open This Book. He is attending TCAF in support of his latest picture book, The Gold Leaf, which was done in collaboration with Kirsten Hall.

Jarrett Williams is best known for his pro-wrestling/adventure series Super Pro K.O.! for Oni Press. When he is not drawing graphic novels, he’s working on covers and back-up comics for Invader Zim (Oni Press), Adventure Time (Boom Studios), and Powerpuff Girls (IDW). He currently writes and draws Hyper Force Neo for Z2 Comics.

Welcoming First Second Back to TCAF!

Industry leaders in Kids and YA Publishing, First Second Books celebrated its 10th Anniversary at TCAF last year, and are returning to TCAF 2017 with a truly incredible list of participating creators!

Scott Westerfeld is the author of the worldwide bestselling Uglies series and the Locus Award–winning Leviathan series, and is co-author of the Zeroes trilogy. His other novels include the New York Times bestseller Afterworlds, The Last Days, Peeps, So Yesterday, and the Midnighters trilogy. He is attending TCAF to debut Spill Zone, his first comics work, published by First Second Books.

Shannon Hale is the bestselling author of many books for children, including the Ever After High series, Princess Academy (Newbery Honor book), and The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl MG novel. She co-wrote the graphic novels Rapunzel's Revenge and Calamity Jack and the chapter book series The Princess in Black with her husband Dean Hale. She is attending TCAF to debut Real Friends with artist LeUyen Pham, published by First Second Books.

LeUyen Pham is the bestselling illustrator of The Princess in Black series with Shannon and Dean Hale. She wrote and illustrated Big Sister, Little Sister and The Bear Who Wasn’t There and is the illustrator of many other picture books, including The Boy Who Loved Math. She attends TCAF to debut Real Friends, published by First Second Books.

In addition to these Featured Guests, TCAF is proud to welcome even more great creators from First Second Books for 2017, including:

Faith Erin Hicks - debuting The Stone Heart, her latest in the Nameless City trilogy. Other graphic novels include Friends with Boys, the Bigfoot Boy series, The Last of Us: American Dreams, and the Eisner Award–winning The Adventures of Superhero Girl.

Molly Ostertag - artist of the award-winning webcomic Strong Female Protagonist. She is debuting Shattered Warrior.

Matthew Loux - creator of Sidescrollers and the Salt Water Taffy series. Artist of F-Stop, Good Night Gabba Land. His latest book is The Time Museum.

Mike Cavallaro - artist of many books, including Parade (with fireworks), The Life and Times of Savior 28, the Foiled series , and Decelerate Blue.

Mike Holmes - debuting Secret Coders: Secrets & Sequences, the latest volume of his series with Gene Luen Yang.

George O'Connor - creator of the Olympians series as well as such graphic novels as Journey into Mohawk Country and Ball Peen Hammer.

Farel Dalrymple - creator of the highly acclaimed Wrenchies, Pop Gun War: Chain Letter, and IT WILL ALL HURT.

Box Brown - Ignatz Award-winning creator of Andre the Giant: Life and Legend and Tetris: The Games People Play.

Pénélope Bagieu - Already announced, Penelope Bagieu returns to TCAF 2017 with her First-Second Published Graphic Novel California Dreamin'.

Alison Wilgus - author of comics, prose, and animation, Alison Wilgus attends TCAF in support of Science Comics: Flying Machines.

But Wait, There's MORE!

Did you know that this year, almost one third of TCAF's more than 400 exhibiting creators ALSO make comics and graphic novels for young people? It's true! Stroll the exhibition floor to meet famous creators like Cecil Castellucci (Soupy Leaves Home, Dark Horse), Gigi D.G. (Cucumber Quest, First Second Books), Becky & Frank (Capture Creatures), Britt Wilson (Cat-Dad, King of the Goblins, Koyama Press), Ru Xu (NewsPrints, Scholastic Books), and literally dozens more! Best of all, we've made them SUPER-EASY to find on our website! Just visit the Kids Creators [Link] and YA Creators [Link] tabs on torontocomics.com.

In Closing...

TCAF is thrilled to continue to provide programs to comics readers of all ages, and we would like to thank all of the publishers who make our great kids programs possible!

#Isabelle Arsenault #Fanny Britt #Svetlana Chmakova #Elise Gravel #Matt Forsythe #Jarrett Williams #Scott Westerfeld #Shannon Hale #LeUyen Pham #First Second Books #Groundwood Books #Brave #Yen Press #Drawn and Quarterly #Enchanted Lion #Z2 Comics #TCAF 2017

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oohaw94 · 8 years ago

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Mind if we have a discussion?

It has been awhile since I have posted anything original here on Tumblr but today is that day!

Most people know I do not talk about my father much. In my opinion it's hard to be super proud of a guy who gave his son multiple concussions and bloody noses between the years of 8,9 and 10 in the course of disciplining him mostly for trivial things. With that said, he did give me two things that I have carried forward in life. Number one: An appreciation for the sport of baseball which bloomed into a full-fledged obsession with softball later in life. Number two: He told me, no matter how smart you think you are, there is ALWAYS someone who knows more.

The second one more so than the first is especially important I think. Don't get me wrong, softball is a good time and my only real form of exercise these days but that second one has so many more applications. Any one who has a social media account has been exposed or over-exposed to the opinions of those around them. There is an old adage about the corrolation between opinions and a certain part of the lower human anatomy that notes everyone has both and they both stink. So for what it is worth, I don't mind hearing other people's opinions. Unfortunately, everyone is so caught up in having to be right all the time because to be wrong means being shunned by the herd and having to live in exile with leperous wildebeasts for the remainder of your days apparently.

I'm not scared to be wrong or to fail. Some of the most fundamental learning comes from being wrong. When I was 10 or 11, I had a bike. Nothing fancy, just a red bike with handle bars, a seat, hand brakes and two tires. I got pretty cocky when riding the trails around our house in Dittmer, MO. Popping over logs and anticipating the slide of a hill rounding into the turn of each trail and such. But one fall day when the leaves were off the trees and clogging the trails, I took off pedaling into the woods. In the trees there were birds and squirrels noting my progress but keeping their distance. I got to a section of trail that I had not ridden in awhile. In addition to the leaves, there were branches downed from summer storms and overgrown dead weeds. Being young and feeling invincible, I proceeded through the section without clearing the debris first. Most of the branches were rotten and the weeds posed no real impedence so I crunched my way through easily. Farther along the trail was more of the same with this part being a bit more of a downhill incline. So I puffed out my chest (not really) and flew along with high confidence. This is where the universe put down the magazine it was flipping through and was like: let me give you a tiny life lesson right now.

Up to this point in the ride, I was getting by even though a few of the decisions were questionable. Halfway down the incline I jounced over a not so rotten branch that flicked up an unseen string of rusted barbed wire that caught on my shoe lace. The next few seconds saw me go flying diagonally over the handle bars and land on some rough gravelly ground, shoulder and face first. My takeaways from the experience: #1 OUCH. #2 Picking gravel out of your chin is not a great feeling. #3 I should've known better.

What is the point of this tidbit from my youth? Simple, use your brain. I knew that riding over the branches and whatnot on the flat ground had caused some unplanned movement and a few precarious seconds where I was not in control. But from the outcome, I learned to avoid making that same mistake again. Was it a dumba$$ moment on my part? Sure. I didn't learn that from a book, I learned from the experience. Also I could've probably got there by using some common sense but hindsight as they say is 20/20.

In my life I have met and interacted with many, many people. Some only in a virtual context but still a large portion have been in person. Through these conversations and sharing of words and ideas I have gotten different perspectives and opinions thrust upon me. Some clinically presented and some passionately expressed in ALL CAPS! Not every one who has made an opposing point or argument to me has changed my opinion on a topic. But, actually listening to them, I got at least a sense of where they garnered their information from and how invested they were in the idea(s) expressed. Most people lock into their beliefs (non-religious) on politics, sports, traffic, certain types of jobs, ethnic groups, books, social media, divorce, etc and there is no budging them. Which is fine. They have collected the pertinent information to support why they are pro or anti on each. And here's a little secret that most people should know but don't. You aren't going to change their minds. Simply put you are not. Through reading, social contact or experience those things are locked down and will not be swayed in their minds. So save your breath or typing.

I am not saying I'm better than anyone. I'm just not. Am I more receptive? Perhaps. But the whole concept of being better than someone is pompous and ludacris. Put me on a dessert island and I could probably survive but in the end I'm probably closer to the character Tom Hanks portrayed in Castaway: scruffy and looking a little caveman-ish. Take someone else to that same island and they probably pimp that (stuff) out. Build themselves a log cabin with a natural jaccuzzi. Make a little alley for coconut skeeball or bowling. Now tying this back to what my father was saying: everyone has blind spots in their knowledge, places where their pool of knowledge is as deep as an $8 kiddie pool at Walmart. There is no one alive roaming this Earth or that has ever roamed this Earth who knows everything. Think you are the ultimate authority on Superman...guess what someone else knows more (see Stan Lee). Think you know every single element related to the Star Trek universe...nope, try again. You can solve a Rubik's Cube in 13 seconds? Someone knows how to do it in 10 seconds. But in those same scenarios the Superman expert may not be able to hang and mud a roomful of drywall. The Star Trekkie could be lost trying to make lasgna from scratch. And the Robik's Cube master would most likely would not be able to throw a knuckleball. With this on the table, let's all take a collective breath and listen to what the other person has to say with an open mind. No one should be asking anyone to mindlessly bow to anyone person's belief structure or logic process. In truth it may flat out be wrong for the other person based on home life, religion, diet, conditioning and pet preference.

Through my friends and family I've learned how to love, to hate, to be compassionate, to empathize, to betray, to be selfish, to be selfless and most of all how to stay humble. I do not see myself achieving the pinnacle of any given field or being the yardstick of what a softball player should be. However, by using my logical process, life experiences and Google, I think I can at least come across as not a totally floundering moron (most days). People tend to take themselves waaaaaay too seriously. Not everything in today's existence is a competition or life and death for that matter. If more people would allow their ideas to be questioned, I think they would grow more as a person. As a personal philosophy, I try to learn something new every day. It may be insignificant, it may be something taught to me by a child but learning keeps life interesting. Otherwise you are stuck listening to the same Hair Metal hits of the 80's. Don't get me wrong, there are some great songs there but if that is the only pool of music you draw from then over time those songs will grow stale and even those will lose their fun qualities.

Now, try to hop on one foot for a minute with your eyes closed. Google your last name and read the 31st search entry. Memorize the entire emsemble of a person you saw on lunch. Count the parking spaces at Kohl's. Think of how many Adele songs are actually good (spoiler alert: zero). Google map the cities you have traveled to and see which one is farthest. Walk into a business, pose like a superhero for four seconds then turn around and walk out. Ask a friend to name something they associate with you. Say "Taco Cat" forwards and backwards several times and then try to figure out if you ended up with the forwards or backwards format.

Through the silly we can relax and allow ourselves to be open to new ideas and learn new things. I'm not saying a joke or a comedian's bit will lead to us building a walking bridge to the moon, but someone else's bit of logic or OCD process may inspire a leap in a new direction. So for everyone calling down the Hellfire and brimstrone for the Trump supporters or the people who feel personally oppressed by a cartoon indian or are just offended by the sun coming up: I say chill. Others are entitled to their opinions and at the end of the day that's mostly what it boils down to - opinions. Save your expert witnesses, your filing cabinets of documents and the YouTube clip of Jesus backing your point of view. If you are not willing to allow the other person an open, non-hostile forum to discuss and probably eventually break off the conversation without recrimminations, then why bother?

The world as we know it will still continue to evolve. The iPhone 7 world as we know it is not the finished product. Great minds around the world will continue to shape it and lead the human race in directions no one has even dreamed of yet. Just wait and see. And those people who are leading, are doing so based on being open to new ideas and asking, "OK. What if..."

Everyone have a fantastic day. Please read my Blog (Wordpress: Scott Latta Blog), find me on Twitter (@oohaw94), follow along on Facebook (Scott.Latta.7), listen to me and two of my softball friends on Podbean (SportsStalkers) and my own little stupid niche of butthurt on Podbean as well (scottlatta). If you would like drop me an email to: [email protected].

Peace.

#blog #podcast #twitter #opinions #stink #podbean #sports stalkers #facebook #trump #open mind #jump the shark

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networkingdefinition · 5 years ago

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Weasels Quotes

Official Website: Weasels Quotes

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• A typical vice of American politics the avoidance of saying anything real on real issues, and the announcement of radical policies with much sound and fury, and at the same time with a cautious accompaniment of weasel phrases each of which sucks the meat out of the preceding statement. – Theodore Roosevelt • Agnostic for me would be trying to weasel out and sound a little nicer than I am about this. – Richard P. Feynman • Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias Smith. “Here’s an idea,” said Ron loudly, “why don’t you shut your mouth?” “Well, we’ve all turned up to learn from him, and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it,” he said. “That’s not what he said,” said Fred Weasley. “Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?” inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko’s bags. “Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,” said Fred. – J. K. Rowling • Art is what separates us from the animals. – Iimani David • Be good now, Potty…Weasel King. – J. K. Rowling • Because success is such a weasel word anyway, it’s such a horribly American word, and it’s such a vamp and, I think it’s a death trap. – Daniel Berrigan • Cats didn’t start as mousers. Weasels and snakes and dogs are more efficient as rodent-control agents. I postulate that cats started as psychic companions, as Familiars, and have never deviated from this function. – William S. Burroughs • Democrats—lily-livered, weasel-assed collaborators. – Michael Parenti • Dingoes, jackals, skunks, vipers and weasel are now illegal in New York City. Well great, who’s going to run CBS? – David Letterman • Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? Polonius: By the mass, and ‘tis like a camel, indeed. Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius: It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet: Or like a whale? Polonius: Very like a whale. – William Shakespeare • Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines. – Steven Wright • Every credible scientist on earth says your products harm the environment. I recommend paying weasels to write articles casting doubt on the data. Then eat the wrong kind of foods and hope you die before the earth does. – Scott Adams • Evidence indicates that cats were first tamed in Egypt. The Egyptians stored grain, which attracted rodents, which attracted cats. (No evidence that such a thing happened with the Mayans, though a number of wild cats are native to the area.) I don’t think this is accurate. It is certainly not the whole story. Cats didn’t start as mousers. Weasels and snakes and dogs are more efficient as rodent-control agents. I postulate that cats started as psychic companions, as Familiars, and have never deviated from this function. – William S. Burroughs • For those of you who may be unaware, [Michael] Boskin is the economist/weasel/fraud who helped to officially distort the CPI, making it more or less worthless as a measure of inflation. The Boskin Commission… was an act of cowardice. Rather than man up and say fix this, its broken, we can’t afford it. – Barry Ritholtz • Go on, try weasel, try squirrel; it tastes like chicken, it tastes just like chicken! If it tastes just like chicken, why don’t you gimme some damn chicken? – Bobcat Goldthwait • Having an aura of menace is like having a pet weasel, because you rarely meet someone who has one, and when you do, it makes you want to hide under the coffee table. – Daniel Handler • Hope,” Frank grumbled. “I’d rather have a few good weasels. – Rick Riordan • I didnt like being reminded about how self-absorbed i was. I wanted to be over this, done with this. I didnt want to live in a broken world or a broken me. I wasnt trying to weasel out of anything. I just wasnt in the mood of being on the earth that night. I get like that sometimes when it rains, or when i see certain sad movies. – Donald Miller • I have obviously failed to galvanize and prod, if not shame enough Americans to be ever vigilant not to let a Chicago communist raised communist educated communist nurtured subhuman mongrel like the ACORN community organizer gangster Barack Hussein Obama to weasel his way into the top office of authority in the United States of America. – Ted Nugent • I like ‘pencil-necked weasel’. It has ‘pencil’ in it. Pencils are good things. You can draw or write things with pencils. I think it’s what you call someone when you’re worried that using a long word like ‘intellectual’ may have too many syllables. It’s not something that people who have serious, important things to say call other people. – Neil Gaiman • I therefore invite you all,” Mr Fox went on, ‘to stay here with me for ever.’ For ever!’ they cried. ‘My goodness! How marvellous!’ And Rabbit said to Mrs Rabbit, ‘My dear, just think! We’re never going to be shot again in our lives!’ We will make,’ said Mr Fox, ‘a little underground village, with streets and houses on each side – seperate houses for Badgers and Moles and Rabbits and Weasels and Foxes. And every day I will go shopping for you all. And every day we will eat like kings.’ The cheering that followed this speech went on for many minutes. – Roald Dahl • I was having a mildly paranoid day, mostly due to the fact that the mad priest lady from over the river had taken to nailing weasels to my front door again. – Warren Ellis • I’m sure I’ve been a toad, one time or another. With bats, weasels, worms…I rejoice in the kinship. Even the caterpillar I can love, and the various vermin. – Theodore Roethke • I’ve met an attractive weasel or two in my time. He looks more like a rat.” -pg.170- – Cassandra Clare • Jack Abramoff is going to testify against some of the other weasels in Congress. A lobbyist testifying against congressmen? How many Bibles are going to burst into flames in that courtroom? – Jay Leno • Listen, if I heard shrieks and cries coming from a house and I ran in there and I found a great big broad shouldered whiskey soaked Joe weasel, dragging his wife about by the hair, and over here, two children are unconscious from his blows and kicks and another one screaming in terror, do you think I would apologize for being there? No! I’d knock 7 kinds of pork out of that old hog. – Billy Sunday • Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come. – Matt Groening • Lucky Charms?” I asked. “Magically delicious,” he explained. “Requisite for any sort of building project.” I shook my head, still amazed at how he had managed to weasel his way over here. “This isn’t a date.” He cut me a scandalized look. “Obviously. I’d bring Count Chocula for that. – Richelle Mead • Mayor de Blasio has legalized ferrets. Now you can legally own ferrets in New York City. I want to tell you something. If I want to see anymore beady-eyed little weasels, I’ll just keep riding the subway. – David Letterman • Most of us are animal lovers. We insist that we love all animals equally – the hamster, the weasel, and the zebra – but if pressed, we will admit to being either a cat person or a dog person. – Nicole Hollander • My career as a magazine writer was largely prefaced on the idea of curiosity, to go on adventures and weasel my way into the lives of people that I admire. – John Hodgman • My character on ‘I’m In the Band,’ Derek Jupiter of Iron Weasel, is definitely one of the crazier ones. That’s completely on the other end of the spectrum. There’s absolutely nothing like Derek any shape or form. I’m having so much fun playing this egotistical, ’80s-era rockstar – everything he does is from the point-of-view of a rockstar. – Steve Valentine • My first fight was a little weasel from American called Andre Dirrell. I say that because he runs and holds, and I hope Abraham bangs him out. – Carl Froch • Not all introductions worked well. Rabbits were an unmitigated environmental disaster. Unchecked by any natural predator, they bred at a staggering rate and chewed their way across vast areas of pastureland as well as any garden that came their way. Attempts to control them by introducing ferrets, weasels and stoats did much more harm than good. Although these predators probably killed a reasonable number of rabbits, they also devastated populations of kiwi and raided the nests of flighted birds. – Bee Dawson • Nothing out of the ordinary ever occurs to me when I’m by myself. But you attract duels, ambushes, immortal enemies, obscure creatures such as the Ra’zac, long-lost family members, and mysterious acts of magic as if they were were starving weasels and you were a rabbit that wandered into their den. – Christopher Paolini • Occasionally I hear a band that blows me away. For instance, there’s a musician in Oakland named Weasel Walter who has a band called the Flying Luttenbachers. Go see the Flying Luttenbachers when they’re in your town. He’s one of the greatest rock composers who ever lived, and he’s struggling and living like a poverty-stricken hermit. – Glenn Branca • Oh, he is cute!” Shane said in a fake girly voice. “Gee, maybe we can ask him out!” “Shut up, you weasel. Claire, hit him! – Rachel Caine • One of our defects as a nation is a tendency to use what have been called “weasel words.” – Theodore Roosevelt • One of our defects as a nation is a tendency to use what have been called ”weasel words.” When a weasel sucks eggs the meat is sucked out of the egg. If you use a ”weasel word” after another there is nothing left of the other. – Theodore Roosevelt • One thing that worried me was how writers get categorized and so they end up having to write the same kind of book again and again. That is fine if it is what you want to do, but I would rather be locked in the trunk of my car with a weasel than write the same book every three years until I die. – Justin Cronin • Or, as I call it, a Cheesel, it’s a Weasel with a Cheese finish. – Bill Bailey • Ser Cleos looked like a weasel, fought like a goose, and had the courage of an especially brave ewe. – George R. R. Martin • Some men can be very rude. On the other hand, some clients are absolute angels. One john always brought me a gift every time he came to see me. He brought me a pearl necklace, a ring, a bra or something. But eventually, as much as I really loved all the gifts, he fell in love with me, and he tried to weasel his way into my life. It was too much and I sort of had to ‘break up with him.” – Annie Sprinkle • Some weasel took the cork out of my lunch. – W. C. Fields

• Tarly, when I was a lad half your age, my lady mother told me that if I stood about with my mouth open, a weasel was like to mistake it for his lair and run down my throat. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, beware of weasels. – George R. R. Martin • Tea Party goers are just a bunch of wimpy, whiny, weasels who don’t love their country. – Paul Begala • The coast’s a jungle of Moors, Turks, Jews, renegades from all over Europe, sitting in palaces built from the sale of Christian slaves. There are twenty thousand men, women and children in the bagnios of Algiers alone. I am not going to make it twenty thousand and one because your mother didn’t allow you to keep rabbits, or whatever is at the root of your unshakable fixation.” “I had weasels instead,” said Philippa shortly. “Good God,” said Lymond, looking at her. “That explains a lot.- Dorothy Dunnett • The eagle may soar, but the weasel never gets sucked into a jet engine. – John Benfield • The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole. – William Butler Yeats • The reason any conservative’s failing is always major news is that it allows liberals to engage in their very favorite taunt: Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy is the only sin that really inflames them. Inasmuch as liberals have no morals, they can sit back and criticize other people for failing to meet the standards that liberals simply renounce. It’s an intriguing strategy. By openly admitting to being philanderers, draft dodgers, liars, weasels and cowards, liberals avoid ever being hypocrites. – Ann Coulter • The weasel under the cocktail cabinet. – Harold Pinter • There is such a thing as the poetry of a mistake, and when you say, “Mistakes were made,” you deprive an action of its poetry, and you sound like a weasel.- Charles Baxter • There’s a gigantic gray area between good moral behavior and outright felonious activities. I call that the Weasel Zone and it’s where most of life happens. – Scott Adams • Those props are as cunning as a bag o’ weasels. – Bill McLaren • To err is human. To cover it up is weasel. – Scott Adams • Values and verdicts never bother me half as much as people trying to weasel their way around them, or people compromising their reason to pander to their own prejudices and preconceptions, which they are so rarely competent to look in the face. – Kenny Smith • Walk in this faithless grass with studious tread, Lest mice, weasels, germane beasts, too soon The tall hat and eyes, the fierce feet, for dead Descry, and fix you prone in their revelling moon. – Allen Tate • Want a cookie,’ Ra said. ‘What kind?’ ‘Weasel cookie.’ I’m here to tell you, that comment about weasel cookies probably saved the known universe. – Rick Riordan • War has taught me that each one of us contains every ingredient of the human recipe. By varying measure we are all cowards and brave men, thieves and honest men, selfish and selfless men, malingerers and champions, weasels and lions. The only question is how much of each attribute we allow- or force – to dominate our being. – Eric L. Haney • We dwell amid pinheaded weasels who know only timid, the generic and the abacus. – Danny Baker • We have to call mass surveillance mass surveillance. We can’t let governments around the world redefine, and sort of weasel their way out of it by saying this is bulk collection. – Edward Snowden • We stepped back and looked at the king of the gods, slumped in his chair snoring, and cradling his crook like a teddy bear. I placed the war flail across his lap, hoping it might make a difference—maybe complete his powers or something. No such luck. “Sick weasels,” Ra muttered. “Behold,” Sadie said bitterly. “the glorious Ra. – Rick Riordan • Weasel words from mollycoddles will never do when the day demands prophetic clarity from greathearts. Manly men must emerge for this hour of trial. – Theodore Roosevelt • Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It’s what separates us from the animals… except the weasel. – Matt Groening • Weasels–and stoats–and foxes–and so on. They’re all right in a way–I’m very good friends with them–pass the time of day when we meet, and all that–but they break out sometimes, there’s no denying it, and then–well, you can’t really trust them, and that’s the fact. – Kenneth Grahame • What annoyed me was that I so often attempted to weasel out of things on purpose, it killed me to do it by accident. It seemed like a waste of whatever detailed lie I was going to have to come up with. – Sloane Crosley • What the Danes left in Ireland were hens and weasels. And when the cock crows in the morning, the country people will always say ‘It is for Denmark they are crowing. Crowing they are to be back in Denmark.’ – Lady Gregory • When the cold comes to New England it arrives in sheets of sleet and ice. In December, the wind wraps itself around bare trees and twists in between husbands and wives asleep in their beds. It shakes the shingles from the roofs and sifts through cracks in the plaster. The only green things left are the holly bushes and the old boxwood hedges in the village, and these are often painted white with snow. Chipmunks and weasels come to nest in basements and barns; owls find their way into attics. At night,the dark is blue and bluer still, as sapphire of night. – Alice Hoffman • You’re alive!” Percy said to the others. “The giants said you were captured. What happened?” Leo shrugged. “Oh, just another brilliant plan by Leo Valdez. You’d be amazed what you can do with an Archimedes sphere, a girl who can sense stuff underground, and a weasel.” “I was the weasel,” Frank said glumly. – Rick Riordan

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years ago

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Weasels Quotes

Official Website: Weasels Quotes

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• Tarly, when I was a lad half your age, my lady mother told me that if I stood about with my mouth open, a weasel was like to mistake it for his lair and run down my throat. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, beware of weasels. – George R. R. Martin • Tea Party goers are just a bunch of wimpy, whiny, weasels who don’t love their country. – Paul Begala • The coast’s a jungle of Moors, Turks, Jews, renegades from all over Europe, sitting in palaces built from the sale of Christian slaves. There are twenty thousand men, women and children in the bagnios of Algiers alone. I am not going to make it twenty thousand and one because your mother didn’t allow you to keep rabbits, or whatever is at the root of your unshakable fixation.” “I had weasels instead,” said Philippa shortly. “Good God,” said Lymond, looking at her. “That explains a lot.- Dorothy Dunnett • The eagle may soar, but the weasel never gets sucked into a jet engine. – John Benfield • The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole. – William Butler Yeats • The reason any conservative’s failing is always major news is that it allows liberals to engage in their very favorite taunt: Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy is the only sin that really inflames them. Inasmuch as liberals have no morals, they can sit back and criticize other people for failing to meet the standards that liberals simply renounce. It’s an intriguing strategy. By openly admitting to being philanderers, draft dodgers, liars, weasels and cowards, liberals avoid ever being hypocrites. – Ann Coulter • The weasel under the cocktail cabinet. – Harold Pinter • There is such a thing as the poetry of a mistake, and when you say, “Mistakes were made,” you deprive an action of its poetry, and you sound like a weasel.- Charles Baxter • There’s a gigantic gray area between good moral behavior and outright felonious activities. I call that the Weasel Zone and it’s where most of life happens. – Scott Adams • Those props are as cunning as a bag o’ weasels. – Bill McLaren • To err is human. To cover it up is weasel. – Scott Adams • Values and verdicts never bother me half as much as people trying to weasel their way around them, or people compromising their reason to pander to their own prejudices and preconceptions, which they are so rarely competent to look in the face. – Kenny Smith • Walk in this faithless grass with studious tread, Lest mice, weasels, germane beasts, too soon The tall hat and eyes, the fierce feet, for dead Descry, and fix you prone in their revelling moon. – Allen Tate • Want a cookie,’ Ra said. ‘What kind?’ ‘Weasel cookie.’ I’m here to tell you, that comment about weasel cookies probably saved the known universe. �� Rick Riordan • War has taught me that each one of us contains every ingredient of the human recipe. By varying measure we are all cowards and brave men, thieves and honest men, selfish and selfless men, malingerers and champions, weasels and lions. The only question is how much of each attribute we allow- or force – to dominate our being. – Eric L. Haney • We dwell amid pinheaded weasels who know only timid, the generic and the abacus. – Danny Baker • We have to call mass surveillance mass surveillance. We can’t let governments around the world redefine, and sort of weasel their way out of it by saying this is bulk collection. – Edward Snowden • We stepped back and looked at the king of the gods, slumped in his chair snoring, and cradling his crook like a teddy bear. I placed the war flail across his lap, hoping it might make a difference—maybe complete his powers or something. No such luck. “Sick weasels,” Ra muttered. “Behold,” Sadie said bitterly. “the glorious Ra. – Rick Riordan • Weasel words from mollycoddles will never do when the day demands prophetic clarity from greathearts. Manly men must emerge for this hour of trial. – Theodore Roosevelt • Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It’s what separates us from the animals… except the weasel. – Matt Groening • Weasels–and stoats–and foxes–and so on. They’re all right in a way–I’m very good friends with them–pass the time of day when we meet, and all that–but they break out sometimes, there’s no denying it, and then–well, you can’t really trust them, and that’s the fact. – Kenneth Grahame • What annoyed me was that I so often attempted to weasel out of things on purpose, it killed me to do it by accident. It seemed like a waste of whatever detailed lie I was going to have to come up with. – Sloane Crosley • What the Danes left in Ireland were hens and weasels. And when the cock crows in the morning, the country people will always say ‘It is for Denmark they are crowing. Crowing they are to be back in Denmark.’ – Lady Gregory • When the cold comes to New England it arrives in sheets of sleet and ice. In December, the wind wraps itself around bare trees and twists in between husbands and wives asleep in their beds. It shakes the shingles from the roofs and sifts through cracks in the plaster. The only green things left are the holly bushes and the old boxwood hedges in the village, and these are often painted white with snow. Chipmunks and weasels come to nest in basements and barns; owls find their way into attics. At night,the dark is blue and bluer still, as sapphire of night. – Alice Hoffman • You’re alive!” Percy said to the others. “The giants said you were captured. What happened?” Leo shrugged. “Oh, just another brilliant plan by Leo Valdez. You’d be amazed what you can do with an Archimedes sphere, a girl who can sense stuff underground, and a weasel.” “I was the weasel,” Frank said glumly. – Rick Riordan

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aion-rsa · 8 years ago

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CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2016: #50 – #26

Each year, CBR takes a thoughtful look at the comic book industry’s abundance of offerings and poll the passionate, thoughtful and always-opinionated CBR staff for their rankings of the top comics of the year. Every publisher putting out new comics material in English, regardless of genre or format, is fair game; each individual list is then factored in (all thanks to the power of mathematics and the magic of spreadsheets) to determine the overall Top 100 that will be unveiled on CBR over the course of this week.

2016 was another big year for the Top 100, once again with more than 40 contributors to the list and more than 200 comics nominated. That’s resulted in a typically diverse and sometimes unpredictable field: world-famous superheroes alongside creator-owned works; major publishers sharing space with indie favorites. Of course, even with 100 spots, no list can be an exhaustive collection of every noteworthy piece of work in a year, but the end result of the CBR Top 100 is a wide selection of eclectic comics and graphic novels worthy of attention. (Note: Given the close ties between the two series, votes for “Captain America: Steve Rogers” and “Captain America: Sam Wilson” were combined for one entry.)

RELATED: CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2016: #75 – #51

On Monday, we started unveiling the list with entries No. 100 to 76, things kept going on Tuesday with 75 -> 51“>No. 75 to 51. The countdown continues today as we crack into the second half with No. 50 to 26 — here’s the remaining schedule, mark your calendars accordingly (all times Eastern): Thursday, 1/5, 9 a.m.: Top 25-11; Thursday, 1/5, 3 p.m.: Top 10; Friday, 1/6, 9 a.m.: Master list.

Start perusing the list below, and if you feel so moved, take to Twitter and (politely) discuss your thoughts using the hashtag #CBRTop100. While you’re here, feel free revisit our Top 100 lists from previous years:

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2015

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2014

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2013

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2012

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2011

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2010

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2009

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2008

CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2016: 100 -> 76 | 75 -> 51 | 50 -> 26 | 25 -> 11 | 10 -> 1

50. Darth Vader

Written by Kieron Gillen

Art by Salvador Larroca

Publisher: Marvel Comics

This was a perfect run of 25 issues without a single dud. Villain books can be hard, and we’ve all seen what happens when you look too deeply into the psyche of Darth Vader, but this book not only delivered a satisfactory answer to questions the movies left unanswered, it introduced us to the most fun supporting cast in all of Star Wars.

— CBR Contributing Writer Jacob Hill

49. I Hate Fairyland

Written & Illustrated by Skottie Young

Publisher: Image Comics

Known for his cutesy “Little Marvel” style, Young has taken his talents and applied them to a black comedy of his own making with outstanding results. He’s taken fairytales and turned them into Looney Tunes, except Elmer Fudd’s shotgun does real damage. It’s bloody fun!

— CBR Contributing Writer George A. Tramountanas

48. Paracuellos

Written & Illustrated by Carlos Giménez

Publisher: IDW Publishing/EuroComics

Gimenez tells the stories of his time in the “Social Aid Homes” for war orphans after Franco won the Spanish Civil War. Every page is designed to break your heart. Masterful cartooning, a little childhood whimsy and a whole lot of human tragedy make for an unforgettable reading experience.

— CBR Staff Writer Michael C Lorah

47. Star Trek / Star Trek: Boldly Go

Written by Mike Johnson

Art by Tony Shasteen

Publisher: IDW Publishing

Both the “Star Trek” series that wrapped in 2016 and the “Star Trek: Boldly Go” title which picks up after the events of the “Star Trek Beyond” movie have been fun reads. The highlight of the year was the final two-part story in the “Star Trek” series which involved both versions of the Enterprise crews. The story compared and contrasted original prime universe versions of the characters and the movie-reboot versions with equal love for both sets of characters. If you are a Star Trek fan, you should check out what IDW has been doing with the franchise. They’ve done a great job with the license for the past decade or so with no signs of slowing down.

— CBR Staff Writer John Mayo

46. Doctor Strange

Written by Jason Aaron

Art by Chris Bachalo, Kevin Nowlan, Leonardo Romero, Jorge Fornés

Publisher: Marvel Comics

“The Last Days of Magic” story arc in Jason Aaron and Chris Bachalo’s “Doctor Strange” has been nothing short of exceptional. Stephen Strange, as the Sorcerer Supreme, fighting for the very lifeblood of magic, is actually interesting again under the leadership of Aaron, with the Empirikul and the magical reverse-Superman known as the Imperator standing collectively as one of the most frightening, compelling and literally all-consuming villains at Marvel. Bachalo’s art has arguably been the best Marvel has benefited from all year and marks a serious and well-received return to form; Bachalo was born to draw Doctor Strange, with his inimitably gnarly, almost baroque style, and his and Aaron’s work here has organically revitalized the Doctor Strange name in an important year for the franchise.

— CBR List Editor Steven E. Paugh

45. Southern Cross

Written by Becky Cloonan

Art by Andy Belanger

Publisher: Image Comics

While the first arc of Becky Cloonan, Andy Belanger and Lee Loughridge’s sci-fi series was a horror book, with ghosts both literal and metaphorical haunting the passengers of the titular space-faring freighter, the second genre-shifted to claustrophobic action thriller. The rising pressure among the oil riggers on Titan was palpable through Cloonan’s terse dialogue and Belanger’s heavily-inked art, equal parts Hugo Pratt and Leiji Matsumoto.

— CBR Contributing Writer Tom Baker

44. Wonder Woman: Earth One

Written by Grant Morrison

Art by Yanick Paquette

Publisher: DC Comics

Grant Morrison and Yannick Paquette deliver a feminist/queer superhero origin story that doesn’t rely on punch-ups for the drama. Paquette and colorist Nathan Fairbairn gorgeously render Morrison’s vision of Paradise Island as a techno-utopia. Diana’s first encounter with the outside world is heart-wrenching.

— CBR Contributing Writer Christos Tsirbas

43. Action Comics

Written by Dan Jurgens

Art by Patrick Zircher, Tyler Kirkham, Stephen Segovia

Publisher: DC Comics

On paper, the premise for the “Rebirth”-era Superman seems like a Clone Saga-esque continuity scramble. Thanks to an “Action Comics” creative team led by Jurgens, it was a thrilling adventure that clearly established Superman’s place in the Rebirth DC Universe. Capped by a multi-issue knock-down, drag-out fight between Superman and Doomsday, “Action Comics” lived up to its title in a major way this year.

— CBR Contributing Writer Tim Webber

42. Wonder Woman

Written by Greg Rucka

Art by Liam Sharp, Nicola Scott, Bilquis Evely, Renato Guedes

Publisher: DC Comics

It has been really interesting to see the two storylines, set in two different points in Diana’s life, unfolding together. It’s really showcased what we love about Diana — not just her physical strength, but also her heart and her optimism.

— CBR Contributing Writer Sarah Cooke

41. Captain America: Steve Rogers / Captain America: Sam Wilson

Written by Nick Spencer

Art by Paul Renaud, Joe Bennett, Daniel Acuña, Angel Unzueta (Sam Wilson); Jesus Saiz, Javier Pina, Miguel Angel Sepulveda (Steve Rogers)

Publisher: Marvel Comics

2016 was a great year to be a Captain America fan. It was the character’s 75th anniversary, there was a fantastic third entry in Marvel Studios’ “Captain America” film series and the stories in both Cap comics were fantastic. In “Sam Wilson,” writer Nick Spencer and his artistic collaborators are doing a fantastic, but contemporary homage to the great Mark Gruenwald, exploring what Captain America means to people and the difficulty of carrying that mantle. Over in “Steve Rogers,” Spencer and artist Jesus Saiz have been doing a fascinating character study of Steve Rogers and his role in the Marvel Universe with the twist, which I went from hating to loving, of reality being reshaped so Steve was a secret agent of Hydra.

— CBR Staff Writer Dave Richards

40. Black Hammer

Written by Jeff Lemire

Art by Dean Ormston

Publisher: Dark Horse Comics

Jeff Lemire never fails to smash expectations, and his latest ongoing series from Dark Horse Comics may be his best yet. The Canadian cartoonist waited for Dean Ormston to recover from a stroke last year because “Black Hammer” wouldn’t be what is supposed to be without the British artist and man, was he right. This psychological superhero thriller was worth the wait.

— CBR Staff Writer Jeffrey Renaud

39. 4 Kids Walk Into a Bank

Written by Matthew Rosenberg

Art by Tyler Boss

Publisher: Black Mask Studios

It’s hard to tell whether Rosenberg and Boss’ story is the kind of tale that we remember our own childhood adventures feeling like, or the kind that today’s kids imagine their hijinks could be. Either way, this mash-up of hardboiled crime tropes and neighborhood gang types is the perfect feel good comic for this moment in time. Better yet, Rosenberg’s sharp, snarky dialogue blends perfectly with Boss’ art, which is equal parts cartoon realism and Shiga-esque storytelling insanity.

— CBR Staff Writer Kiel Phegley

38. Howard the Duck

Written by Chip Zdarsky

Art by Joe Quinones, Veronica Fish, Kevin Maguire

Publisher: Marvel Comics

Everyone who works on “Howard The Duck” must at some point contend with the legacy of Howard’s creator Steve Gerber, and the latest creative team of Chip Zdarsky and Joe Quinones was no exception. Howard isn’t just a wisecracking waterfowl stalking sarcastically through the Marvel Universe, he’s a mouthpiece for skewering culture in general, and comics in particular. In 2016 Howard went from space to the Savage Land and teamed up with Squirrel Girl and Lea Thompson, but the final issues of his current series found him in full-on metatextual mode, as Zdarsky and Quinones confronted the challenge of writing a corporately-owned character. Throughout it all, “Howard the Duck” was sharp, involving, sometimes devastating and always very, very funny. Like the original, it was gone too soon.

— CBR Staff Writer Tom Bondurant

37. Superman

Written by Peter Tomasi

Art by Pat Gleason, Jorge Jimenez, Doug Mahnke

Publisher: DC Comics

As a non-Superman fan, this has been the title I’ve found myself moving to the top of my stack every two weeks. The pairing of Gleason and Tomasi is the epitome of perfect superhero storytelling, even for those new to the genre.

— CBR Contributing Writer Leia Calderon

36. DC Comics: Bombshells

Written by Marguerite Bennett

Art by Mirka Andolfo, Laura Braga, Marguerite Sauvage, Sandy Jarrell, Pasquale Qualano, Maria Laura Sanapo

Publisher: DC Comics

This is the warmest, queerest comic out there. You’ll smile your way through every issue.

— CBR Staff Writer Marykate Jasper

35. Power Man and Iron Fist

Written by David F. Walker

Art by Sanford Greene, Flaviano Armentaro

Publisher: Marvel Comics

David Walker is only comics writer who made almost as much of an “overnight success” impact after years of work as Tom King. While there is a case to be made for the harsh realities of “Nighthawk” or the literary qualities of the amazing “Shaft: Imitation of Life,” the book that best encapsulated everything Walker can do (not to sleep on Sanford Greene’s contributions) is “Power Man and Iron Fist,” a fascinating take on the buddy book concept that has raucous humor, gripping action and nuanced characterization. With some of the most balanced plots on the shelves, every month this book is a shining beacon for the benefits of diversity in the marketplace with a voice and stories that could not be told by anyone else.

— CBR Staff Writer Hannibal Tabu

34. Ms. Marvel

Written by G. Willow Wilson

Art by Takeshi Miyazawa, Nico Leon, Adrian Alphona, Mirka Andolfo

Publisher: Marvel Comics

“Ms. Marvel” should be applauded for not letting the weight of “Civil War II” drag it down. The series effortlessly threaded the event into its storytelling and established Kamala Khan as the future of Marvel Comics.

— CBR Contributing Writer Tim Adams

33. The Walking Dead

Written by Robert Kirkman

Art by Charlie Adlard

Publisher: Image Comics/Skybound

Over 150 issues on from the zombie apocalypse, this comic continues to prove that it still has the power to shock and surprise its readers, not just in terms of storyline, but also in terms of structure, as Robert Kirkman and newly named Comics Laureate Charlie Adlard experiment with page layout to cram even more simultaneous action onto the page during the “Whisperer War” storyline.

— CBR Contributing Writer Rob Cave

32. Patsy Walker, A.K.A. Hellcat!

Written by Kate Leth

Art by Brittney L. Williams, Natasha Allegri

Publisher: Marvel Comics

Like “Unbeatable Squirrel Girl,” “Patsy Walker aka Hellcat” takes an underused character and just makes everything ridiculous fun. As imagined by Leth and Williams, Patsy Walker is trying to reclaim her life after returning from the dead and then being laid off by She-Hulk. She strikes on the brilliant idea of setting up a temp agency for folks with powers who don’t want to use them for good or evil. There is action, adventure, and danger, but the overwhelming feeling of the series is joy.

— CBR Staff Writer Shaun Manning

31. Black Dog: The Dreams of Paul Nash

Written & Illustrated by Dave McKean

Publisher: Dark Horse Comics

Dave McKean’s new book is about the life and work of the artist Paul Nash, examining his life and work and his experiences during the First World War through a series of dreams. The oversized volume is a joy to behold, and the insight into Nash and his thinking is amazing. At this stage of his career, McKean is no longer a major figure in comics, the artist/writer/designer/filmmaker/composer is one of the great artistic figures of his generation.

— CBR Staff Writer Alex Dueben

30. Southern Bastards

Written by Jason Aaron

Art by Jason Latour

Publisher: Image Comics

Jason Aaron and Jason Latour paint an unforgettable story of Southern crime, using blood and grease on their small-town canvas. This series sticks in your head like barbecue sauce sticks to your fingers.

— CBR Contributing Writer Jason Strykowski

29. Sunstone

Written & Illustrated by Stjepan Sejic

Publisher: Image Comics/Top Cow

This erotic comic is not only great for being deliciously filthy, but also because it’s full of complex but lovable and relatable characters who are well-written. Which explains why I was crushed when I thought the couple at the center of this story might break up.

— CBR Staff Writer Paul Semel

28. Sheriff of Babylon

Written by Tom King

Art by Mitch Gerads

Publisher: DC/Vertigo

“Sheriff of Babylon” had such a strong debut in 2015 that it was hard to shake even from its first issue. That continued into 2016, with King and Gerads taking a modern event, given just enough time since its occurrence so that one can effectively create fiction set inside of it, and turned out a winner as they follow three different individuals in 2004 Baghdad with their lives about to intersect. This is a deliberately uncomfortable story to read, even as each new chapter demanding you return for the next issue, because it’s just that good. With talk of a second miniseries, here’s hoping for another trip to Iraq soon.

— CBR Staff Writer Greg McElhatton

27. Future Quest

Written by Jeff Parker

Art by Evan Shaner, Craig Rousseau, Steve Rude, Ron Randall, Aaron Lopresti, Ariel Olivetti, Jonathan Case, Steve Lieber

Publisher: DC Comics

This nostalgia-fueled love letter to classic Hanna-Barbera heroes manages to do the impossible by making readers take these heroes from yesteryear seriously. This is in largely due to the artists on the series, which retains the feeling of the old cartoons while breathing new life into them.

— CBR Contributing Writer Sean Fischer

26. Black Widow

Written by Mark Waid & Chris Samnee

Art by Chris Samnee

Publisher: Marvel Comics

Lightning strikes twice sometimes, especially when Chris Samnee and Mark Waid are involved. Along with colorist Matt Wilson and letterer Joe Caramagna, the entire “Daredevil” team switched up lead characters and created a modern masterpiece in the spy comics genre. Taking on a larger writing role with this this series, Samnee’s power as a storyteller — in every sense of the word — is on full display.

— CBR Editor Brett White

Check back on Thursday for more of the CBR Top 100!

The post CBR’s Top 100 Comics of 2016: #50 – #26 appeared first on CBR.com.

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