#pack laura pr

[dayfalwastaken]

Mrs. Afton's blues...

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“-Oh, I would. I will if you corner me. Don’t put me in that position, Laura. Believe me when I say that hurting my children is the last thing on my mind. I do not want to do that, but I will if I have to.” The sheer determination she felt from him as he spoke instilled a weak laugh in her chest. Tears begged to spill but she was way past those, so instead she bit her lips, glaring daggers at the monster before her.

“If that’s what it takes to stop you from going to the police, or crying to anyone we know about this- that’s what’s going to happen. Elizabeth will never walk again for the rest of her life. Neither will Evan, neither will Michael. And their blood will be on your hands.” He pointed a finger at her, stepping closer. “You think about that, dear, before you do something you shouldn’t…”

Almost on instinct Laura took a step back, finding herself with the back against the wall. In spite of that, she did her best to hide any semblance of fear even though William walked closer still.

“I don’t want them to get involved. I really don’t, but I can’t let you talk. If you manage to twist up a story about how bad of a father I am, and how much I’ve scared all of you just by sleeping under the same roof as you, even though I think we can both agree I’ve been anything but- if you can play the victim card and convince anyone of something so- outlandish…” Another step. This time he was close enough that if he leaned down their foreheads would touch. “There’ll be nothing left for me to lose.”

The urge to spit in his face and slap him clawed fiercely at her, and it took everything she had not to. Worse, the horrid stench of alcohol to burn her lungs made her want to puke.

“You pig…” Her tongue slipped, and for a moment she was worried this would be it for her, but William didn’t seem to have heard the insult. If he did he chose not to acknowledge it, thankfully.

“And if I’m not there to raise those three, who will? What good are they to anyone, without me? They’re brats, and that is all they ever will be without someone to make sure they don’t end up dead in some godforsaken ditch- or, or- or having to live from one day to the next, spending their entire adult lives wondering how they got there! Unhappy, frustrated with themselves and feeling like they have no one to turn to. Having to-...!” William cut himself off, dragging his palms across his face in an exacerbated manner.

The veins in his neck pulsated faster, but when he opened his mouth the words came out calm.

“I can’t allow them to be like me.” He said it in a self-affirmatory kind of way. On that they could agree on. “They’re brats, but they’re mine, and I love them. I’ll do anything it takes to protect my children. Even killing them, if I must. As regrettable as that would be.” Not one ounce of emotion was present in his voice as he uttered that.

Laura inhaled despite the smell, praying to God she’d break before he did. They were so close that all it would take to incapacitate him was a knee to the groin. After that a straight kick to the sternum would take away his air and another, well placed one to the back of the head might just do the trick.

“I’m extending an olive branch here, Laura. Even after everything you’ve done. Leave, and you can rest assured that the children you gave birth to will be safe and happy. I promise you they’ll be okay…” She wished she could o chuckle at that, but the more she looked into his eyes the more she found that he was dead serious. “But if you stay… I told you what happens. I can’t make myself any clearer.”

It was frightening how a person- dog like him could go so long without blinking.

“You have until tomorrow morning. Pack your things and leave. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. You have my word I won’t bother you, but only… for tonight. If you’re not gone by seven when I have to wake up to get ready for work- I don’t like repeating myself. I want you out of my house, away from my children and preferably out of the state. No goodbyes. Those would be too good for you.” He growled harshly, now refusing to look at her as he did so.

“How am I supposed to do that?!” She bit back, unable to think of anything else to ask.

William snapped his head in her direction, barely stopping himself from shouting.

“Pack your things, walk to the main road- it’s barely two miles away from here, search for the nearest telephone booth, order a cab.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “You figure it out from there. I’ll leave some cash on the kitchen counter.” He breathed out, slowly leaning back. “I don’t have it in me to strangle you in your sleep, Laura.” He admitted like it was a Sunday morning. “You’re still the mother of those little shits, and I haven’t forgotten our fifteen bloody years together, but I can’t ever look at you the same way I did before. And they deserve better than some unfaithful whore incapable of raising them.”

“Like you’re one to talk… I don’t know how I’ve never noticed it before. Just how much of a self-obsessed, narcissistic piece of filth you are. You think yourself a father?? You deserve to burn, you stupid bastard.” She barked bitterly, wanting nothing more than to dig her nails through his skin for everything he’d said. To cause him the same amount of pain he’d caused their children.

The fact that he had the dignity to act like he’d been right to- she would’ve said more had the disgust not gotten to her.

“The feeling’s mutual, don’t worry `bout it.” He made a move to turn around after that but then decided to face her once again. “Get to packing. You try anything and I break your legs.”

There was nothing behind those silver eyes as he stared her down, his face still feral with rage much like hers. Laura struggled to keep herself from shuddering as she caught sight of his arms twitching. The fight going on inside over whether he should lunge at her then and there was more than obvious. The grim irony that she was thinking the exact same things as him… For Laura anyway, the only thing standing between her and his throat being squeezed to death was the sad reality of having very little actual chances of winning a physical fight with him. That, and their children.

They should be preparing for bed right about now.

“Trust me when I say I will know if you speak to someone about this. Oh, and… dear? Before I forget. If I get a call from either one of your parents asking me to take you back in instead of wanting to know where you are, everyone’s already going to be dead and buried before you come back.”

He let the threat linger for about a minute, neither one of them saying a word. Then, he smiled, and just like that he turned away, walking into the living room as if nothing had happened.

Laura closed her eyes for a second, allowing a single tear to roll down her left cheek before she pushed herself off the wall.

So be it. She silently thanked her former husband for reconfirming to her what she had to do. Taking a quick glance at the kitchen, her gaze fell upon a rolling pin that was sitting very closely near the sink.

There was no going back after this, but she didn’t care. The only thought running through her mind was what would happen to her kids if she allowed this monster to take another breath.

Laura waited until he was completely out of view to go and pick up the rolling pin. As quiet as she could be on heels, she followed him into the living room and raised the pin high above her head. William must’ve sensed she was there, but she moved too fast for him to react. After all, if she failed she wouldn’t get another chance.

Having gathered all of her strength, Laura swung the roller down as hard as possible, hitting William right over the head with it. He fell face first without much protest and in response she let out a sigh of relief. Judging by his still expanding upper torso however, there was no way that had killed him, but she didn’t need to do that to get her children away from him.

Absentmindedly she dropped the pin, holding her hand to stop it from trembling.

Right. The priority was to get those three as far away from him as she could before he woke up. But where could she even take them at this hour?

As if a higher power had heard her inner question, she spotted the framed picture of Henry and William on one of the emptier shelves of their bookcase, over by the sofa.

“No time to lose…” She whispered to no one as she approached the telephone.

(Something to come in the near future. Hopefully around chapter 27.)

[explosivebeatz]

Daily Podcast Black Business show review

Welcome to the Explosive Beatz Daily Podcast Network, brought to you by the UK's most explosive urban music channel! I'm DJ Paris Walker, and today, we're diving into the highlights of the Birmingham Black Business Show, held on June 15, 2024, at the National Exhibition Centre in Birmingham.

This all-day event was a hub of innovation and networking, featuring a stellar lineup of entrepreneurs, industry leaders, and professionals. From empowering workshops on leadership and financial planning to engaging discussions on public speaking, personal branding, and international trade, this event was packed with insights to help black entrepreneurs and professionals thrive.

Key highlights included:

Leadership Insights: Renee Davis and Romanah Buchanan shared strategies for effective leadership and business growth.

Financial Planning: Laura Keddie and Femi Adigun simplified pensions and long-term financial security.

Public Speaking: Bianca Miller-Cole and Dr. Byron Cole's roadmap to becoming a confident, well-paid speaker in 90 days.

Roundtable Discussions: Direct expert advice on legal matters, investment strategies, talent acquisition, and more.

Navigating Leadership Isolation: Panelists provided strategies for building meaningful connections and support networks.

International Trade: Mark Burkett's guide to exporting products and services.

Personal Branding: Janay Marie and panelists explored the power of PR in today's competitive market.

Overall, the Birmingham Black Business Show was a resounding success, offering invaluable opportunities for growth and networking.

Don't forget to like, subscribe, and share this video! For more exciting updates, join our mailing list at ExplosiveBeatz.com. Stay tuned for more content that empowers and inspires. Let's continue to elevate and celebrate black business excellence together!

#ExplosiveBeatz #BlackBusinessShow #Entrepreneurship #Leadership #PublicSpeaking #FinancialPlanning #PersonalBranding #Networking #BusinessSuccess

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 6

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

To say that I was doing well after I left Derek’s house would be a lie. I really don’t understand why it hurts so much. We barely knew each other outside of a few encounters. Was it just me that felt the aching in my chest? I want to believe that he felt the same thing, but that seemed selfish. That I wanted him to miss me. That I dreamed of him showing up at my window and begging to see me. But that wouldn’t be real, that was a fantasy. Derek would never act like that. That was just my fantasy. 

I promised Stiles I wouldn’t get romantically involved with Derek, but it was more painful than I have ever imagined. 

-

I sat in Coach Finstock’s office while the school day went on. Relacing the netting on the crosses that were used in case any of the players broke their own. The repetitive movements were mind numbing so it was probably for the best. I could zone out and not think about Derek. 

Tonight was parent teacher conferences for some students who weren’t doing well academically, both Scott and Stiles were a part of that list. But who could blame them? One of them was a werewolf and the other was friends with the aforementioned werewolf. The weeks seemed to run together, it didn’t even feel like autumn yet, but we were halfway to winter. 

I had stayed away like I promised. The only times I even heard about Derek was from what Scott told Stiles. They were both planning on finding the alpha and taking him down together. That would be good for him. Good for both of them. I have been feeling so many emotions since then. A lot of anxiety and anger. But they never felt like my own. I sighed and rested my eyes for a minute, the repeated movements slowing my brain down enough to sleep on Coach’s desk. 

The man in front of me was badly burned, one side of his face was pink and muddled, much of his hair was burned on that side. 

“I need your help.” Derek’s voice echoed, “If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… Just something to point me in the right direction, okay?” The man, his Uncle Peter, stayed in the same position. 

He sighed, “Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura? Whoever he is, he’s an Alpha now… but he’s one without a pack, which means he’s not as strong. I can take him. But, I have to find him first.” Still no response. 

“Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire?” 

Still getting no response, he became agitated, “Just give me anything! Blink! Raise a finger! Anything!” He growled, reaching for the man, “SAY SOMETHING”!

“Hey.” I jolted at the sound of Finstock’s voice. He stood in the doorway of his office. 

“You alright, kid?” He asked, his eyes went from my face to the crosse that I was aggressively fixing the net on. What was that? Was I… seeing what Derek was seeing? No, that was impossible. Insane even. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I went back to relacing, tugging the knots taut and reaching for a lighter to burn the ends of the string so they wouldn’t unravel. 

“Do I need to kick his ass?” He asked, his large eyes looking a little more crazy than usual. He was trying to seem threatening, but I wasn’t threatened by his booming voice and looks anymore. He was alluding to someone not treating me right but it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

I chuckled a little, “No. It’s not his fault. He’s going through a lot right now.” I stood up and placed the crosse in the spare locker with the rest of them, “Besides, I probably shouldn’t be dating considering the last guy I was dating murdered my parents and tried to murder me.” The humor was dark, but what a way to cope. 

“Any news on that guy?” He stood up straight, walking to his desk. 

“Nope. I think he skipped town. He’s the feds' problem now.” 

“Does Stiles want to be a doctor?” He changed the subject, he was looking at a paper in his hand. 

“Uh… Not that I know of.” I shrugged. 

“Because he wrote a detailed history of male circumcision on his economics test.”

-

I got out late, well past the time the student teacher meetings were over. Filing records, grading a couple things for Finstock and ordering more pearls for the upcoming games since we were running low. These days really run together, especially when you’re trying to forget most of the year that happens. 

Speaking of happening, was I really seeing the same thing Derek could? It didn’t make sense. They were just random dreams. Like the one the other day where Derek was speaking to this woman about how she didn’t kill his sister. That was just a dream. But… Why could I feel sadness? Sadness, guilt and pain.

I got home, seeing that Stiles’ Jeep was nowhere in sight meaning that he was off to do more werewolf nonsense with Scott. I trusted Scott to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean I wanted Stiles running around where there was an alpha on the loose. 

That night I made dinner, ate, saved two plates for Uncle Noah and Stiles and sat in the living room. They were running a story on another body that had been found. A bus driver killed in an animal attack. They were calling it a mountain lion. A mountain lion was more likely than a werewolf normally. But here we are. Officially werewolf capital of the world. I turned off the TV and laid back on the cushions, closing my eyes. Maybe a couch nap would relax me a little, it would kill my back in the morning, but I would be able to tell when Stiles came home. 

Scott and Stiles were walking towards me across the school lawn, playfully pushing each other. 

“I’m gonna kill both of you.” Derek’s voice said, “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?” He was frustrated and angry, but also a little scared. Finding the alpha is what he needed to do, at the same time though, this person got the jump on Laura. 

“Sorry…I didn’t know it would be that loud…” Scott said sheepishly. 

“Yeah, it was loud… And it was awesome!” Stiles cheered. 

“Shut up.” Derek barked.

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles mocked. 

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asked, looking around me. 

“What?” Derek asked, I turned to see an empty backseat, “I didn’t do anything…” I saw Scott and Stiles’ eyes widen as pain exploded through my back. Blood gushed from my mouth as I was lifted up. I was coughing and choking on my own blood. Pain and fear were running through me, my heart pumping so quickly causing more and more blood to gush from my mouth. The last thing I saw was the world rushing by me as I was thrown towards the school wall. 

I woke up before I made impact. My heart was racing and my back ached. I reached behind myself awkwardly. The only thing I felt was the raised bumpy scar from my stab wound. So it was just a dream, but it felt so real. So…Was it real? Did I just experience Derek…

I looked up at the clock and saw it was well into the early morning. I got up and made my way upstairs, Stiles’ door was slightly open and there was still light inside. I just went in, panic already starting to build in my chest. Stiles was sitting at his computer, he turned and looked up. He looked like he had a long night. 

“Stiles, is…” I swallowed thickly, “Is Derek d-…Dead?” My lip was trembling. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it.  He avoided my eyes. 

“I really don’t know.” He explained what happened at the school that night. How the alpha attacked them and chased them around the school and that when they got out, Derek’s body was gone. 

“I don’t know if he crawled off somewhere or if the alpha dragged him away before the cops showed up. But I’m pretty sure I won’t have to go back to school until Monday. We tried to blow the alpha up. And we also kinda blamed Derek for it.” 

I shook my head and chuckled, “Nice. Throwing a dead man under the bus, after all he’s done for me.” 

“It wasn’t my idea!” He shouted in a hushed tone, “We thought he was dead for sure. But now I don’t know. Besides, we couldn’t give up the big secret to a hunter’s daughter, a dick, and Lydia who has been through enough already.” I nodded and left the room. He called after me but I couldn’t be in the room anymore. Just… they could have blamed anyone. A rabid animal even, but they were blaming Derek. I closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sliding down until I met the floor. My chest felt tight and I wanted to cry. I had cried so much lately I didn’t know if I could. My emotions were running so high and it was so confusing? Why was everything so different? 

-

It was Monday morning and tonight was another full moon, meaning Scott was jumpy and could turn at any moment. The night before they had gone off to “hang” but Stiles was really bad at hiding the alcohol he had taken to get drunk with Scott. 

I was eating cereal at the kitchen table when Stiles came down. He was groaning and definitely hungover. 

“Booze doesn’t pay, does it?” I smiled. 

“You’re more chipper than usual.” He grimaced a bit, holding his head. 

“Not chipper, just really good at fakin’ it.” I went in for another spoonful. He looked away, hearing Uncle Noah coming through the kitchen on his phone. 

“We are watching his family’s house. Maybe he’ll wind up there?” Uncle Noah looked up, seeing Stiles, “Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have a test to get to?” He asked. 

“What’s going on? Did you find Derek yet?” Stiles asked, more pep in his voice. 

“I’m working on it. You go take your test.” He said firmly. 

“All right, Dad, listen to me-” Stiles stood up.

“Go!” He shouted, I had never heard him shout before. 

“This is really important! You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight.”

“Stiles, I’m always careful.”

“Dad, you’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay? At least, not like this.”

“I know. Which is why I brought in people who have. State detective. Go take your test.” Stiles grumbled but grabbed his book bag and left the house. Uncle Noah sighed and went back to his phone call as he followed Stiles out the door. 

-

Later on in the day, Stiles texted me. He probably shouldn’t be, especially with his test. 

STILES: Scott had a panic attack about Allison. He said he might kill someone.

I sighed, my thumbs dancing over the phone screen. 

(Y/N): Then we’ll chain him up so he can’t get out. I’ll pick up some chains at the hardware store.

-

After a stop at the hardware store, I got to the lacrosse fields where Coach Finstock was looking over a list. 

“How’s the pink-eye epidemic?” I asked. He rolled his eyes. 

“Real good, half of my players had to go on the bench. Goddammit, Greenberg.” I looked over the list. 

“Who’s Bilinski?” I squinted at his sloppy writing. 

“That one.” He pointed his pen towards Stiles. 

“You put Stiles on the first line?” I smiled, perhaps my subtle hints had worked. 

“Yeah, and we made McCall co-captain.” 

I blew air out of my mouth, “I’m sure Jackson shit a brick.” 

He shook his head, “Yeah, he’s not taking it well.”  I shrugged and made my way over to the bench where Scott and Stiles were in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t join, just listened in. 

“Yeah, she likes you. She’s totally into you.” Scott smirked. Stiles grinned, clearly excited. The She in this scenario could be none other than Lydia Martin. But there was something about Scott’s tone that threw me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia making her way to her seat in the bleachers, pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her lipstick. I didn’t want to believe that Scott would do that to his friend, but the facts were pointing towards it. 

Practice seemed to be going well, that is until Scott got pushed over during a practice run. I could practically feel his anger from across the field. 

“All right, you’re up, big boy! Let’s go!” Coach called. Scott retaliated this by knocking into another player, and sending him hard on his back. I winced, intaking a breath through my teeth. 

“That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!” Coach grinned. Maybe this is why we had so many players on the bench. Coach could see victory when Scott played. It was Stiles' turn on the offensive against Scott. With the full moon so close, I don’t think their friendship would do Stiles any favors, he shoved Stiles away just as hard and fast as the other player. Each time he got a goal. The next player, Danny, also was a victim of werewolf rage since Scott hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. I grabbed Coach’s whistle and blew it, calling for the play to pause. 

I jogged up to Danny and knelt down, some other players surrounded as well. 

“Danny, can you hear me?” He nodded slowly, holding his bleeding nose. I stood up, “Take him to the bench guys.” I walked back over to Stiles and Scott. 

“Everybody likes Danny. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.” 

“I don’t care.” Scott said smugly. Stiles shook his head and went back to the benches. 

“What the hell is your problem? You make co-captain and it goes to your head.” I shoved his shoulder. He breathed out, his eyes glowed yellow 

“You don’t want to mess with me right now.” 

I narrowed my eyes, “Is that a threat?” He smirked, his eyes going up and down my body. 

“It could be.” I looked at him in disgust. 

“First Lydia and now me? You’re a really shitty friend, Scott.” I made my way back to Stiles who was staring back at the bleachers. Jackson and Lydia were talking. 

“He did it.” He whispered. I squeezed his arm lightly. It was going to be a long night.

-

That night, Stiles and I went to the McCall’s house to get prepared for the full moon. Stiles carried a duffle bag to the best of his ability, even though it had the steel chains  and locks I had bought. One of the only reasons I came was so if I needed to I could get him out quickly. The other was because I didn’t know how he would react to the situation with Lydia. Stiles unlocked the door and went inside. Did Mrs. McCall know he had a key?“

Scott?” We heard her call. Mrs. McCall turned the corner and saw us in the hallway. She was in her scrubs, probably going in for a late night shift.

“Stiles.”

“And (Y/N).” I waved.

“Ah.” Her eyes went to Stiles' hand, she pointed, “Key.”

“Oh, yeah, I had one made.” Well, that answers that question. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me” And then, like a buffoon, Stiles dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud. 

“What is that?”

“Uh, school project.” He lied. Mrs. McCall, who either believed the lie or just wanted to change the subject, asked: “He’s okay, right?” 

“Who, Scott? Yeah, totally.” Stiles lied.

“He just doesn’t talk to me, not much anymore. Not like he used to.” She said somberly. I could only imagine that’s how my mom felt when I went into high school and into a phase where parents were uncool. 

“Well, he had a bit of a rough week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Yeah. Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.” 

“You, too.”

“Full moon.” She looked out the window. Stiles and I stiffened. 

“What?”

“There’s a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs.” 

“Oh.” He breathed out, both of our shoulders dropped.

“Yeah…” She said awkwardly. 

“Right…”

“You know, it’s, um, actually where they came up with the word "lunatic.”

-

We opened the door to Scott’s room. Stiles dropped the duffel and turned on the lights. We both jumped when we saw Scott sitting in his computer chair. 

“Oh my god.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath. 

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us. Your mom said you weren’t home.”

“I came in through the window.” he said blankly. Stiles and I shared a glance. 

“Okay, um, let’s get this set up.” Stiles bent down to get into the duffel bag that was near the radiator, “(Y/N) got the heavy duty stuff.” I kept my distance from Scott, staying right by the door, ready to grab Stiles and book it. 

“I’m fine,” Scott said, causing us both to stare, “I’m just gonna lock the door and turn in early.” We all knew a door wouldn’t stop him, he had other plans in mind. 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, “Cause you got this kinda serial killer look goin’ on in your eyes. I’m hopin’ it’s the full moon taking effect cause it’s starting to freak me out.” 

“I’m fine.” Scott repeated, “You should both go home.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave.” He stood up then stopped, clearly trying to put his back up plan into motion, ‘Well would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t.”

“Just in case you’re feeling a little anxious.” I smiled. Scott got up and walked to the duffel bag. He bent down and pulled out the thick, metal chains. 

“You’re thinking I would put these on? Chain me up like a dog?” He snarled and dropped the chains. 

“Actually, no.” Stiles quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped him on Scott’s wrist, chaining him to the heater. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away when Scott lunged. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott growled. 

“Protecting you from yourself.” Stiles sighed and glared, “And giving you payback. For making out with Lydia.” And there it was. Maybe I should have checked the bag for other items he bought. He went downstairs, leaving me and Scott in the bedroom. 

“(Y/N), uncuff me!” He struggled. 

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have the key.” 

He lunged and growled, causing me to jump. I looked away, embarrassed that I was showing him that I was afraid. But I was afraid. I’ve known this kid practically his entire life and he was turning into a completely different and dangerous person. 

“You like that? Hmm?” He hummed suggestively. I shook my head, talking to him was probably going to just make things worse. Thankfully, Stiles had come back…with a dog bowl.

“I brought you some water.” He said, pouring water from a bottle into the bowl and setting it down in front of Scott.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Scott roared and threw the bowl at Stiles.

“Stiles…” I whispered. The situation was getting dangerous. 

“You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. And that’s my…The one girl that I have-'' Stiles shook his head, “You know, for the past three hours, I’ve been thinking it’s probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow he’ll be back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch. A frickin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend.”

“She kissed me.” Scott interrupted. 

“What?” Stiles looked so betrayed. 

Scott grinned menacingly, “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.” Stiles glared and walked out of the room, I followed behind. 

“She had her hands all over me, she would have done anything I wanted! ANYTHING!” Scott’s voice rang through the house. Stiles paced back and forth outside the door. 

“Stiles?” Scott called through the door, “Please let me out. It’s the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. Stiles, let me out. This is starting to hurt. You said it, Stiles, it’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. It’s not just a break, she broke up with me. It’s killing me! I’m feeling hopeless. Just let me out.” Stiles paused, looking towards the door. I looked him in the eye, shaking my head. 

“He’s just trying to make you feel bad.” 

Stiles nodded, “I can’t.” He called. 

“No! No no no!” Scott shouted, followed by screaming. And then silence. Stiles opened the door, Scott was gone. Only broken handcuffs remained. I grabbed a set of chains and started going downstairs. 

“Stiles, stay here.” 

“(Y/N)!” He called, grabbing my arm before I went out the door. 

“Stay put.” I glared, shutting the door behind me. Scott was a sweet kid normally. But if I needed to keep Stiles safe and if that meant knocking out a couple of his teeth then I would. I went around back to his window and followed the path of broken grass into the woods. I gripped onto the chains tightly, ready to swing if I needed to. My plan had been to knock him out and chain him to a tree. Not sure how well that would work though. 

I stopped in a clearing, having lost the trail. Behind me a twig snapped. I’ve always been an act first, ask questions later in these situations. I swung the chain, cracking Scott across the face. My eyes widened at the state of him. Like Derek, he had coarse hair growing down his cheeks, the bridge of his nose was scrunched up and appeared more animal like, his brow bone protruded. His jawline though? Still weird. 

Scott’s head had swung to the side with the chain, he looked back slowly, and glared as he spit blood onto the ground. The scrape on his cheek healed almost immediately. 

Ha ha, I’m in danger.

“Scott.” I said cautiously, taking a slow step back, “You know me. I’m your friend.” He wasn’t moving closer, but he also hadn’t stopped looking at me with his glowing yellow eyes like I was food. 

“So, uh, you blow off your steam. Do some running, clear your head, that good stuff. And I will see you tomorrow. Okay?” I smiled nervously, he didn’t answer, “Okay.” Now it was time to run since I had gotten myself a decent head start. I turned and ran, hearing a roar and footsteps behind me. I threw the chains back over my head, hoping to trip him or hit him in the head. That didn’t seem to do much since he didn’t slow down. 

All at once I was body slammed to the ground and turned on my back. Scott was sitting on top of me, leaning down he roared loudly in my face. His large pointed canines shone in the moonlight. 

I screamed, shoving and kicking at him, “SCOTT! SCOTT PLEASE!” He thrusted a clawed hand down towards my chest that I barely caught. He seemed slightly confused, but pushed down. I whined, using everything I had keeping his sharp claws from my chest. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Scott, please don’t hurt me.” I begged through my teeth. He roared again, raising his other arm to strike when something flashed across my vision. Whatever it was, it knocked Scott off of me. I gasped for air, my lungs and  muscles were screaming at me. The two began to fight, growling and snarling. I sat up, scrambling to get out of the direction of the brawl. I couldn’t see much in the dark since the clouds had covered the moon, but whoever it was got Scott on the ground, roaring down at him. The other stood up straight just as the moon’s light peaked through. And there stood Derek Hale - tall, proud, and very much alive.

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

Read part 7 here!

Oh boy, who could have seen that coming? Anyone who’s seen season 1, that’s who. 

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

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[esmealux]

The Devil Doesn’t Do Children

Part: 2 / ?

Setting: About a year after 5a

Word count: 3.5K

Rating: T

Summary: ‘I certainly did not choose to impregnate the Detective, Doctor!’ In which Lucifer doesn’t know how to cope and goes to see the one person who might be able to help him. 

Warnings: Mention of death, murder (and, quite indirectly, foeticide)

When Chloe parks the car a little outside the film set, Lucifer has finally got his thoughts and the threatening sensation in his chest under control. He had stared silently out of the window the entire ride, calculating, weighing the different possibilities; which one was more likely—him impregnating her after being sterile since the dawn of time, or her getting food poisoning from a hole in the wall filthier than medieval England? The latter. Definitely the latter. It is the only logical—nay, possible explanation. He has no doubt.

But then she asks him to get her a gum from her glove box (she still has a bad taste in her mouth), and when he looks inside the small space to find the pack she always keeps there, something catches his eye, something pink and flat, something he usually associates with mood swings and five days of limited access—something that reminds him she’s more than a week late.

He grabs the gum between his fingers and hands it to her, smacking the glove box shut as if it will erase what he just saw and the distressing epiphany it led to. He searches for alternate explanations in his panicking mind, something, anything, that will ease his returned and now stronger fear that she’s… That they’re… But he comes up with nothing. Just obscure theories that even he will admit are far-fetched.

He doesn’t say anything—not because he knows she doesn’t want to have the conversation on their way to talk to a potential suspect, but because he can’t. So he just follows after her like a lost puppy, until they’re suddenly sitting in a cramped trailer, facing former child-star, current man-child Max Steinfeld.

‘Why did you walk away when we asked you about Laura?’ Chloe asks the actor. He had fled? Lucifer hadn’t noticed. Then again, he’s not entirely sure he would have remembered if they’d been in a car chase, or a gunfire.

The sad example of a man slides a tabloid towards them in response to the Detective’s question. The front page shows a picture (undoubtedly shot by a paparazzo) of him and Riley walking down the street hand in hand, smiles plastered on their polished Hollywood faces. Next to the headline promising insight in ‘all the details about the magical wedding,’ there’s a close-up of an offensively distasteful diamond ring.

Lucifer sees a chance at escaping the cacophony of disturbing thoughts in his head and takes it. ‘What, because you’re marrying Miss Riley and didn’t want a murder case spoiling your-’ he takes the magazine and swiftly flips through the pages till he finds the right one, ‘uber-romantic seaside wedding? Is that it?’ Lucifer leans a little forward and stares intensely into the man’s eyes, his best cheshire grin playing on his lips. ‘Come now, Maximillian, what is it you truly desire?’

‘I…,’ he begins, not blinking as he’s sucked into Lucifer’s stare, ‘I want to stop pretending.’

‘Pretending that you didn’t kill an innocent woman because you put a bun in her oven?’

Steinfeld’s brows draw together in confusion before they arch up in worry and disbelief. ‘Laura’s… dead?’

Lucifer’s just about to call him out on his charades, when the Detective jumps in and confirms that she was found in her home, stabbed to death.

Max’ face turns white. His jaw goes slack. Then a cry of raw agony fills the confined space.

*

Once Steinfeld has calmed down enough to continue the conversation, Chloe decides to go easy on him and begins by asking him where he was between 9 and 10 PM last night.

‘With Moni,’ he says, looking almost ashamed. ‘I had a date with Laura—we were gonna see each other for the first time in weeks—but she didn’t turn up. I figured she was still mad.’

‘Mad?’ Chloe prompts him to elaborate.

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly handle the whole pregnancy-thing very well. I couldn’t- I just- I panicked.’

‘So you killed her,’ her partner concludes beside her. She gives him a stern look and a reprimanding ‘Lucifer.’ He ignores her.

‘No! I would never hurt her! I love her,’ Steinfeld tells them, all kinds of emotions swimming in his eyes. ‘But when she told me, I just couldn’t… deal with it, so I ignored her, for five weeks. One thing was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m-’—he gulps and takes a deep breath—‘was gonna be a dad, but I also had no idea how I was gonna tell them.’

Chloe is just about to ask who he means by ‘them’ when Lucifer opens his mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, my mistake. I’ll refer to them as Mx Riley from now on.’ He sounds genuinely apologetical. Chloe side-eyes him, confused.

‘What? No,’—Steinfeld shakes his head—‘Moni goes by “she”. I meant the studio. They made us sign a contract at the beginning of production in which we agreed to pretend to be a couple in public to-’

‘Build hype around the movie, sell more tickets and boost your personal career?’ Chloe finishes. She’s familiar with the concept. 

‘Yeah, something like that,’ Steinfeld mutters and rubs his brow, his hand still visibly shaking from the shock. ‘But I was growing tired of it. I like Moni, she’s one of my best friends, but nothing more than that, and what I had with Laura was so… real. It was all pretty new, but she made me happy. I wanted her in my life—to share my life with her. Still, I was nowhere near ready to have a baby with her, to become a dad! I mean, I still have a bad reputation in the business, I’ve spent all my savings on drugs and alcohol and a mansion I can’t afford, and sometimes I get so stressed I don’t eat for days. How am I supposed to take care of a kid?’ His voice is laced with frustration and tears stream down his stubbled cheeks. She expects Lucifer to scoff at the ‘dramatics’, or at least show some kind of disapproval of the emotional display, but he doesn’t.

‘Look, I get it,’ Chloe says, laying her arms on the table. ‘When I was pregnant, me and my ex-husband were absolutely terrified too.’

She senses Lucifer looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s not sure why, or what it means, so she ignores him and continues.

‘Is that why you did it? Did you go to her place when she didn’t show up for your date and then when she brought up the baby you lost your temper? You got scared?’ She wills her voice to be calm, knowing the man is vulnerable.

Max frantically shakes his head. ‘No! No, more the opposite! I was gonna tell her that I loved her and that I was gonna try. That’s why I went to Simone’s when she didn’t show up. Moni knew about Laura, what she meant to me, so I went to her to talk about how we could escape this fucked-up PR stunt controlling our lives,’ he points angrily to the smiling picture of him and Riley on the cover of the tabloid, still on the table. When he continues, his voice is calmer, but also more emotional, ‘so we could be free, and I could do right by Laura… and our baby.’

Chloe turns to look at Lucifer—to see if he, too, believes Steinfeld is innocent—only to discover that her partner is glowering at the now frightened man across from them. Lucifer is breathing heavily, his fist clenched between them, his knuckles white. His voice is sharp and venomous when he speaks, almost hisses, ‘How exactly were you gonna do right by them? How could you just accept that you were gonna be a… a father, even when you knew, in every cell of your damned body, that you couldn’t?’

He’s standing now, his tall frame shaking, heat rolling off him. She reaches for his hand to calm him down (Steinfeld has faced enough trauma today as it is), but he quickly draws it back, as if he’s burnt by her touch. His eyes remain brown and his face smooth and tan, anthropomorphic—still, a lump settles in her throat. Before she can say anything, he speaks again, his voice lower now, only a few octaves from demonic and flaming with something she can only describe as wrath. Wrath and pain. ‘How could you ever pretend to love something you never wanted?’

He storms out of the trailer, surprisingly elegantly considering his emotional state. She excuses herself to Steinfeld and rushes out to talk to her partner, comfort him, ask him what the Hell is going on.

But he’s gone.

Vanished.

Sighing, she bends down to pick up a large, silky feather from the ground.

*

The door bursts open, the hinges shrieking in protest as it slams against the wall and knocks down a picture frame in the process. Linda takes a deep breath and slowly turns around to face her intruder. ‘Lucifer, what have I told you about barging-’

The words get stuck in her throat when she sees him. His hair is dishevelled, his clothes wrinkled and disarranged. A dash of colour is missing where a pocket square usually sits and completes his outfit—whether he lost it without noticing or he didn’t pick one out in the first place, she can’t tell, but either way, it’s concerning. Even more so when combined with his face. Oh God, his face. He looks pale, too pale—ghostlike. His pupils are mere specks, his eyes manic. His chest heaves rapidly as he takes in short, ragged breaths.

Last time she saw Lucifer in a state similarly chaotic, dark, leathery wings were sticking out of his back. Before she can ask him what’s wrong, his tremulous voice fills her office.

‘The Detective’s pregnant.’

Not what she’d expected, but his reaction seems about right.

She goes to his side to help him sit down on the couch, pours him a glass of water, and doesn’t sit down till she’s made sure he’s drunk some. Once in her chair, she takes a deep breath, partly to prepare herself for the incoming conversation and partly to make Lucifer mirror her so they can get some oxygen to his head. She’s not sure if angels can pass out, but she’s not gonna take the risk.

‘Okay,’ she says calmly, ‘and how do you feel about it?’ The question sounds kind of absurd as he’s sitting there, practically radiating distress. Nevertheless, he needs to put his feelings into words.

‘How do you think I feel about it, Doctor?’ he growls.

She doesn’t answer that. Instead, she looks at him with a slight smile and raised eyebrows, inviting him to tell her.

‘I feel betrayed, for one,’ he spits, feeding her plant with the sparkling water she’s provided him—before emptying his flask into the glass and taking a large gulp.

‘By whom?’ she asks.

He glares at her and takes another sip. ‘My father, obviously.’

Linda suppresses a sigh of frustration. She’d thought God coming to Earth and their subsequent bonding time had finally made Lucifer bury his manipulative daddy issues. Guess she was wrong. ‘What do you think your father has to do with Chloe getting pregnant?’ She doesn’t miss how he winces at the last three words before his face sets into taut lines.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Doctor.’ His voice is thick with sarcasm. ‘I mean, it’s not like he has ever sent down one of his pathetic thralls to “bless” a barren couple with a spawn.’

‘How are you so sure you’re infertile?’ she asks him with narrowed eyes, leaning back in her chair. They’d thought Amenadiel was infertile, but she has 31 pounds of pure joy at home to disprove that. 

‘Well, it’s simple maths,’ he replies. She gives him a curious and mildly sceptical look, and he leans forward, putting his now half-empty glass down on the table. ‘Right, I’ve been practicing safe sex since the first ever condom came about—you know, for the sake of my lovers’ health—but condoms are only 98% effective at preventing conception, and the ancient prototypes were much worse, which means that, had I not been sterile, I would have fathered one hundred thousand children, give or take, throughout history, and I haven’t. I would have noticed; they would have flocked around me like little rats to get a piece of my fortune every time I appeared on Earth. Ergo, infertile.” He gestures towards his crotch with a dead-serious expression.

‘Right,’ she says, forcing herself to look at his face. ‘And what makes you think that that trait, or whatever you wanna call it-’

‘I call it a blessing,’ he interrupts her, the slightest glint in his eye as he peers at her from over the brim of the drinking glass.

‘What makes you think it’s everlasting?’ she asks him, a theory suddenly forming in her mind.

He furrows his brow. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Well, you’re not completely immortal anymore,’ she reminds him, her eyes shifting to his thigh where his first (not self-induced) scar is covered by his creased suit pants. He sends her a hurt look. ‘What a positively shitty way of trying to cheer me up,’ he huffs before downing the remaining liquor.

‘What I mean is,’ she begins to clarify, ‘what if your infertility is like your immortality?’ She lets the words sink in before she continues, ‘What if your aversion to having children, to becoming a dad, has affected your ability to physically father a child? But just like you chose to be vulnerable around Chloe, you’re now choosing to have a baby with her, to grow your family.’

He scoffs, almost laughs, but there’s no trace of humour in it. Only torment. ‘I certainly did not choose to impregnate the Detective, Doctor!’

‘Maybe not on a conscious level,’ she argues. ‘But maybe after the personal development you’ve been through, after seeing you’re worthy of being loved, not just by Chloe but also by Trixie, you’re finally realising, somewhere deep inside, that you’re also worthy of being someone’s dad.’

‘That is…’ he whispers, gazing out into empty air with a thoughtful expression, only to ultimately conclude, ‘absolutely preposterous!’ He sends her a dirty look, as if he’s accusing her of humbug. ‘I don’t want to be someone’s dad, Doctor—I don’t want a baby! The Devil doesn’t do children. I despise them. Always have. You know that.’

‘That doesn’t mean you always will. I mean, do you despise Charlie?’ She waits a couple of beats, watching him intently. ‘Do you despise Trixie?’ She nods in the direction of his chest, knowing his phone is in his breast pocket, nestled against his heart, the screen lighting up with a picture of himself and his two favourite girls every time he gets a notification.

‘Your son appreciates my devil face,’ he defends, ‘and the Detective and her offspring are a package deal.’ Linda knows he tries to appear indifferent, but he can’t hide the fondness suddenly twinkling in his eyes. If Linda wasn’t sure before, she’s now absolutely positive that Lucifer loves Trixie nearly as much as he loves her mother. She sees it all the time; it’s in the way his eyes flash red with hellfire when Trixie is hurt or sad; it’s in the way his chest puffs out with pride whenever he talks about her; it’s in his jealous stare when she and Dan laugh at an inside joke; it’s in his jubilant eyes when he’s the one who makes her laugh; it’s in the immense effort he constantly makes to always be there for her, to never disappoint her.

‘You might call them a package deal, Lucifer,’ she says softly, making him look at her, ‘but they call you family.’

He’s snatched the empty glass from the table and is now nursing it in his hand, unintentionally mimicking his nephew with his security blanket. His eyes are downcast, but she can tell his heart swells at the mention of the F-word. He’d dropped by her place about a month ago, shock all over his face. ‘The urchin referred to me as her family,’ he’d said. Linda had smiled and replied with a simple ‘Of course she did’. As narcissistic and self-indulgent as he is, he is surprisingly oblivious to other people’s affection for him. Then again, what else could you expect from a person who was abandoned by his parents, literally pushed into the abyss, and for eons deprived of any kind of love?  

With Lucifer’s background in mind, Linda steers the conversation back to his feelings about Chloe being pregnant. ‘If you’re being completely honest with yourself, Lucifer,’—she stares at him until he lifts his head and looks her in the eyes—‘what do you think is the main reason you’re having this reaction to Chloe being pregnant? Is it because you don’t want children?’ She lets him think for a couple of seconds before adding, ‘Or is it because you’re afraid you’ll let your child down like your dad let you down?’

Sadness flashes across his still ashen face before the muscle in his jaw flexes and hot fury fills up his eyes. ‘My father didn’t let me down,’ he snarls, putting the glass down with an alarming clank, ‘He banished me from my home and sent me to Hell—after my mother wouldn’t let him kill me! No words cover that immense extent of neglect, Doctor. That cosmic measure of betrayal!’ His voice is shrill and rough as he shouts the last word, accompanied by the jarring sound of the drinking glass shattering to a million pieces as it collides with the wall behind her.

Lucifer takes a few heavy breaths and, once he’s gotten his anger somewhat under control, pointlessly adjusts his jacket and straightens his spine. ‘No one should have to endure even a fraction of that,’ he tells her, appearing strangely remorseful. ‘Especially not an innocent child.’

And there it is.

‘You are not your dad, Lucifer,’ she reminds him. ‘Or your mom. You’re not gonna abandon your child. You’re not gonna hurt them.’ She waits till he looks up at her (his brown eyes are so sad it makes her chest ache) before she says, ‘You’re gonna love them with every piece of your heart and go to the ends of the earth, or Hell, to protect them, because that is who you are. Maybe you weren’t that person when you cut your wings off on the beach eleven years ago, and maybe not even when you first started assisting the LAPD. But that’s who you are now. Just ask Chloe and Trixie.’ She would add all the other people around him who know this to be true, who know him, but there are only two people whose opinions matter to him in this case. 

He doesn’t answer. His lips part, a smidgen of hope and belief appearing in the sea of fear in his eyes.

‘You referred to it as a “blessing” before, the fact that you couldn’t have children.’ He grimaces at the past tense. ‘Based on that, I assume you think having a child would be a curse?’

He raises an eyebrow, questioning her intelligence.

‘Right. But why do you think that is? I mean, if you think about it, is it really so bad that you and Chloe are having a baby? Someone who’s a beautiful mix of the two you, created out of your love for each other?’

He stops tending an invisible spot on her couch to look up at her. Colour has returned to his face, and the anger from before is gone; only a crease of worry remains. He looks tentative, but not scared to his core like earlier, his gaze warm and soft.

‘I…’ he says, musing. After a few seconds of silence, he answers, ‘To be frank, Doctor, I don’t know.’ His lips settle into a crooked line, stuck between a smile and a frown.

Linda lifts a friendly brow, her own lips tugging up at the corners. ‘Can’t know till you try, right?’

‘Right,’ he admits. It’s still not exactly a smile she sees on his face, but it’s close enough.

‘Have you talked to Chloe about all this?’ she asks him.

‘I haven’t, no. Do you think I should?’

Linda blinks, a little dumbfounded he’s even considering it an option not to talk about his fears with the woman who’s carrying his baby.

‘I’m joking,’ he says then, the smallest of smirks playing on his lips. ‘Of course I’m gonna talk to her! I just thought it best to, you know, sort out my own thoughts on the matter first.’

‘Oh,’ she mutters, realising she might not give him enough credit. He really has come a long way since their first session. ‘That’s very mature of you, Lucifer,’ she praises him.

The minuscule smirk from before spreads out into his cheshire grin. ‘What can I say? All good people know everything below an M-rating is boring and worthless.’

He smooths his pants over his thighs and checks his cuffs before standing and walking to the door. Just before he leaves, he turns to her with newfound courage in his eyes and says, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a detective I need to have a chat with.’

Part I |  Part III | Part IV (coming soon)

[dearevanhansenofficial]

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“YOU WILL BE FOUND” NATIONAL COLLEGE ESSAY WRITING CHALLENGE 2021 | DEAR EVAN HANSEN

DEAR EVAN HANSEN “You Will Be Found” National College Essay Writing Challenge 2021

In partnership with Gotham Writers Workshop and the Broadway Education Alliance, DEAR EVAN HANSEN invited 11th-grade and 12th-grade students across the country to write a college-application style essay that describes how they channeled “You Will Be Found” to ensure those around them were a little less alone over the last year, or, alternatively, a moment where they found comfort in connection.

WINNER: Nearly 4,000 high school students across America wrote about impactful ways they stayed connected with others over the last year and we're delighted to announce Maxwell Silverman of Chicago, IL as the winner of the 2021 "You Will Be Found" National College Essay Writing Challenge and the $10,000 scholarship.

In June 2021, Maxwell graduated from Lane Tech High School in Chicago with plans to attend Boston Conservatory at Berklee, focusing on a degree in Musical Theatre.

FINALISTS: Seth Gorelik, Bellmore, NY Mira Kwon, Los Angeles, CA Anna Cappella, Pittsburgh, PA Semira Abdus-Salam, Rosedale, NY Filgey Borgard, Brooklyn, NY Lauren Escarcha, Orlando, FL Kacey Feth, Union, MO Paige Foltz, Stephens City, VA Sarah George, Chesterfield, MO Vincent Gerardi, Hauppauge, NY Ariane Lee, Syosset, NY Allison Lierz, Omaha, NE Megan Luong, New York, NY Kimberly Manyanga, Billerica, MA Orla Grace McCoy, Raleigh, NC Lucy Meola, New York, NY Sunaya DasGupta Mueller, Palisades, NY Liv Ollestad, Issaquah, WA Liana O'Rourke, Downers Grove, IL Isaiah Register, New York, NY Sydney Schneider, Los Angeles CA Ysanne Sterling, Centreville, VA Madeline Wiest, Peoria, AZ Samantha Williams, Providence, RI Laura Yee, New York, NY

FINAL ROUND JUDGES: Kelly Caldwell, Dean of Faculty, Gotham Writers' Workshop Logan Culwell-Block, Director of PLAYBILLder Operations and Community Engagement, Playbill Will Roland, Actor, Dear Evan Hansen Original Broadway Cast Member Crystal Su, Program Manager, The Jed Foundation Ekele Ukegbu, 2019 Jimmy Award Winner

READ MAXWELL’S FULL ESSAY:

Gram·pun·cle [geram-puhn-cuul] n. A gay man who formerly dated your grandmother only to later come to terms with his sexuality but still stay in the family to take care of your mother and aunt growing up.

Alan Palmer was my Grampuncle. When my cousins and I were younger, we couldn’t figure out what to call him. He was our grandpa in terms of age and raising our mothers, but he functioned more as the classic “fun gay uncle”, so we settled on a combination, Grampuncle. While we all had amazing relationships with Alan, mine was special. I have known Alan and his husband, Bill, since birth (making them the first ever gay couple I knew in my life).

Growing up and struggling with my sexuality, I was always able to look up to them to show me that true love really does have no boundaries. I will never forget, in 2015, standing inside the Michigan courthouse beside Alan as he and Bill exchanged vows and got married. They showed me, a young, insecure gay boy, that there was a place for me in the world and that I had a future to look forward to filled with love and joy.

Along with that joy, there eventually came some pain. Alan was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in the early spring of 2020. A week or so after the diagnosis, the world fell into a global pandemic. Those first few months were intense. I heard the horror stories from Alan of how scary it was going into the hospital for rounds of chemotherapy with people who had the Coronavirus sitting in the next wing over. Being constantly in and out of the hospital he was a risk to others, and the lung cancer made almost everyone else a risk to him. With the exception of his husband, he was fully alone.

Alan did not admit to his loneliness and pain. He did not want to feel like a burden, but after talking with Bill and hearing how Alan was truly feeling, my family began to make the hour and a half drive from Chicago to Michigan almost every other week to visit. We brought Alan a pop-up gazebo and some fancy sun hats to protect him (with the radiation he could not be in the sun for more than a few minutes at a time), and we would sit in the backyard just talking and laughing for hours until Alan’s body would give in to the exhaustion and he had to go inside.

As his birthday approached, I racked my brain thinking of something special to do for him. I thought back to a video I saw online toward the beginning of the pandemic and decided to make a “hug shield”. What better gift to give than a loved one’s embrace during the pandemic? Using a clear painter��s tarp, I cut arm holes and taped together closed arm sleeves. It took a good few hours, but I finally figured out a design that allowed for full protection on either side of the hug. On the day of his birthday, we packed up the car and headed to Michigan.

After talking and eating cake, it was time for the surprise. As we pulled the shield out and hung it from the gazebo, Alan did something I had only seen at the courthouse; he cried. I had the honor of the first hug, and as I slipped my arms into the sleeves Alan and I held each other and cried together. He pressed his forehead against mine through the plastic and in between sobs he said to me, “I am so proud of you.” I knew this was our final goodbye. When Alan died the next week, I knew he went in peace. He had felt my embrace through the shield of love.

SEMI-FINALISTS: Bailey Andera, Thousand Oaks, CA Arianna Arroyo, Brooklyn, NY Alexis (Lexi) Berganio, Honolulu, HI Avery Bielski, Los Angeles, CA Henry Boemer, Villa Rica, GA Isabelle Bulmahn, Imperial, MO Jane Butera, Phoenixville, PA Mia Cashin, Norwell, MA Sean Choo, Rancho Palos Verdes, CA Zuri Clarno, Columbus, OH Lydia Corcoran, Apalachin, NY Cody Coyle, Winter Park, FL Anna Dai-Liu, San Diego, CA Alexander Guerrero Diaz, Richmond, VA Isabella Dufault, Irvine, CA Edwin Ellis, Atlanta, GA Laurel Emanuel, Raleigh, NC Aubrey Fisher, Cobden, IL Sunny Fong, Brooklyn, NY Sarah Galatoire, Houston, TX Zhao Gu Gammage, Wyncote, PA Sarah Gomez, Anaheim, CA Rachel Gray, Cleveland, OH Jameson Huge, Chicago, IL Sarah Grace Hutchinson, Alpharetta, GA Catheryn Ibegbu, Dearborn, MI Nicole Jo, Andover, MA Kelsey Johnston, Prince George, VA Gabrielle Kashorek, Avon, NY Samantha Kern, Akron, NY Nicole Kowalewski, Sykesville, MD Anne Lee, Edison, NJ Amelia Lin, Mukilteo, WA Judianne Meredith, River Vale, NJ Rabi Michael-Crushshon, Minneapolis, MN Geneva Millikan, Maumelle, AR Samantha Moy, Long Island, NY Shaakirah Nazim-Harris, Amityville, NY Eleanor Neal, Springfield, VA Sofia Ochoa, Camarillo, CA Basilia Oferbia, Brooklyn, NY Annika Olson, Rathdrum, ID Kaden Polt, Osmond, NE Shreeyamsa Poudel, Federal Way, WA Noah Robie, South Berwick, ME Zainely A. Sandoval Martinez, Dorado, PR Devyn Schoen, Eldred, PA Yusra Shaikh, Edison, NJ Gabrielle Shockley, Egg Harbor Township, NJ Ava Sklar, Brooklyn, NY Mia Sunday, Sammamish, WA Christina Unkenholz, Smithtown, NY Emilia Valencia, Portland, OR Brianna Wallace, Fredericksburg, VA Charles Wang, West Hartford, CT Daniel Joseph Weispfenning, Ridgewood, NJ Jennifer Wheeler, Reading, MA Virginia Zanella, Collierville, TN Alessandra Zepeda Ortiz, Los Angeles, CA Anna Zhang, New York, NY Daniel Zhang, Cortland, NY

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you know any sterek fics where derek cheats on kate or Jennifer with stiles? Thanks xxxx

I sure do.

How exactly do I run from this (crazy sensation) by extranuts

(2/? I 1,836 I Teen)

Stiles first set eyes on Derek when he was eighteen, and fresh out of Beacon Hills. He’s riding on the high of graduation, lacrosse wins, very, very good results, and actually getting accepted into the university he’d wanted.

After that, Stiles is completely screwed (figuratively at first, because everything else seems to melt away when Derek is around, and then afterwards very literally indeed).

AU, in which Derek Hale is a married man, and Stiles falls very hard, very easy. Everyone is a self-centered, grade-A arse for a bit, and then things go to shit, and this story takes off from there.

The Affair by Orion2650

(3/3 I 2,479 I Explicit)

Stiles and Derek have been having an affair for seventeen months, two weeks, four days, eight hours, and thirty-three minutes—but who's counting.

Finding Time to Lose with you is Water in a Dust Bowl by Adelune

(1/1 I 2,661 I Mature)

Stiles shouldn’t have seen this coming but in the recess of his mind he could admit that there was the smallest inkling that they would crash into each other eventually. Like a collision; powerful, solid and breathtakingly fast.

Find U Again by Polairism

(2/2 I 12,678 I Mature)

Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski, a boy who's always felt a little out of place and yearned for a relationship like the ones his friends were in. Believing he won't find anyone to be with, Stiles figures he'll be alone forever. But he finds a relationship with a man named Derek, who he met on a dating app. Everything is great until Derek informs him about the secret he's been hiding from Stiles.

Don't Cry Baby. by orphan_account

(7/? I 24,518 I Mature)

Stiles is 24, an established author and single parent to his two and a half month old daughter. He's at the peak of his career and with a new book to finish, changes, revelations and a baby to juggle, that irritating question in the back of his mind is getting harder to ignore.

Derek works in PR. He hates his job and his colleagues and his relationship is rapidly falling apart. He needs some time to himself; he isn't ready for commitment or complete selflessness and with his life slowly grinding to a standstill as he approaches 27, he needs some time alone to clear his head.

Five tickets to Norway, One delayed flight, Two not so complete strangers, One baby, Two almost paternity tests and a whole lot of questions weren't what either of them had bargained for.

Why Can't I Breathe? by dragonryder94

(12/12 I 24,576 I Mature)

All human AU. Danny and Stiles are together. Derek and Kate are together. Neither of their relationships are happy. Somehow, in the mess of their lives they find each other.

Tainted Love by readtolive

(11/11 I 34,157 I Explicit)

The entire pack knew by now that Derek was back in Beacon Hills with a wife in tow. Stiles had to listen to four separate rants from different pack members, namely Erica, Scott, Isaac and Lydia, how they fully expected him not to lose his grip and to remain calm and composed. Stiles wanted that so much himself and he really thought he could maybe manage it. He was glad that they perhaps failed to realize that the main source of his agitation didn’t stem from seeing Derek after so long, but from the fact he was married now. It was something he never even offered to Stiles. It was something Stiles thought Derek would never do. He wasn’t wrong, as it turned out. He just didn’t want to do it with Stiles.

Imagine Me & You by refuse_to_sink

(10/10 I 54,185 I Explicit)

AU In which Peter, Laura and Kate are all alive. Derek and Kate are getting married, Stiles works at the floral shop arranging the flowers for the wedding. Everything is not as it seems.

With Just the Door Ajar by mirrorkill

(!/1 I 61,672 I Explicit)

So there's a bunch of reasons why Stiles has been away from Beacon Hills: most noticeably being the time he accused his English teacher Jennifer Blake of being the evil Darach who spent two years sacrificing twelve of Beacon Hill's best.

But Stiles can't stay away forever from the town that killed both his parents. When he gets a job offer he can't refuse, it's time for him to grow up and apologize for his mistakes. Which just lands him an invitation to Beacon Hills' wedding of the century. Jennifer's wedding. To the werewolf Stiles had a thing with in senior year. To the werewolf Stiles might not exactly be 100% over.

Still, he's a grown up now and he can handle this thing without causing any trouble. Having sex with the groom repeatedly doesn't count as trouble… does it?

Never Break the Chain by OntheMeander

(10/10 I 78,999 I Explicit)

Nine years ago Stiles left Beacon Hills and planned to never come back. All that was left for him there was a broken heart and a threat over his head that would take away everything else.

Life is unstable though and now he has to come back to this hell hole to bury a fallen brother.

He has changed though, grown up and matured. He can handle this little weeklong visit; go to the funeral, spend time with his dad, check up on any potential work in the area, avoid Derek, the pack and... Derek's wife?

Whatever, he will handle this with all the grace he has learned in the last decade than disappear into the night. He hopes.

[thewidowsghost]

Fox - Chapter 30

Previously on Fox:

"Good, send some -" (Y/n)'s cut off by a loud ping that even Natasha could hear, and a thump into ground. It detonates, and Natasha's eyes widen in fear, hoping that the worst hadn't happened. "Okay, that's not cool," (Y/n) says, grunting and Natasha is able to breath again.

"Shit!" (Y/n) curses as another ping sounds and then the call ends, with Natasha staring at the phone in shock.

Natasha pulls her phone off the plugin and takes a picture of the call's origin, and dials Clint's number. "Clint, we've got a problem?"

Clint freezes at the distress in Natasha's voice. "Nat? What is it?"

"(Y/n)'s been kidnapped!" Natasha answers. Clint's eyes widen in horror, Laura turning to stare at her husband, the brunette having heard since the phone had been on speaker.

3rd Person POV

All Tony Stark can hear are nightmarish, garbled voices, and sees probing lights. Tony thrashes against a belt restraining him to a table.

Then he gets flashes, a red scalpel, blood-splattered hands, a man, looking down on him. The man yells to someone in Arabic, and Tony is held down, a chloroform is pressed to his face.

Tony flickers awake, disoriented. A tube protrudes from his nose. He sees bald man, tanned skin, and brown eyes, behind wire rimmed glasses.

Tony looks over, seeing a jug of water on the table. He tries to speak, and realizes it's from the nasal-tube. Tony pulls at the tube, gagging as two feet of tubing slithers from his nose.

"...water...water," Tony whispers hoarsely.

The bald man continues humming, and frustrated, Tony yanks the IV from his arm and stretches for the water, but is stopped by a wire, under his chest bandages, snapping taut.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the unknown man tells Tony.

Tony follows the wire with his eyes and finds, to his horror, that it's hooked up to a car battery. He starts clawing at his chest bandages and the bald man turns. Tony sees an ugly chest wound, too much for the billionaire to handle and she swoons.

Hours later, the bald man is stirring a bubbling pot on the furnace, and he glances at Tony, who wakes up on the cot. Tony eyes the bulky chest-piece protruding from his fresh bandages.

"What have you done to me?" Tony asks.

"What did I do?" The bald man asks sarcastically. "I removed what I could, but there's a lot left headed for your atrial septum. Do you want a souvenir?" He tosses Tony a jar with a ton of bloody Christmas tree shaped barbs. Tony regards the shrapnel and he drops the jar. "I've seen many wounds like this in my village. The walking dead we called them, because it took a week the barbs to reach vital organs. I anchored a magnetic suspension system to the plate. It's holding the shrapnel in place ... at least for now."

Tony struggles up, sitting up on the cot, and notices a surveillance camera on the cave wall.

"That's right, smile," the bald man says. Pausing for a moment, then he continues, "We met once - at a technical conference in Bern."

"I don't remember," Tony says, looking confused.

"You wouldn't," the bald man says. "If I'd been that drunk, I wouldn't have been able to stand, much less give a talk on integrated circuits."

"Where are we?" Tony asks.

A slot in the door opens and a pair of dark eyes stares in. The bald man drops his spoon and puts his hands on his head. "Stand up! Do as I do. Now!" he orders. Tony gets to his feet, but can't get his hands up, and the bald man helps him. "Listen to me, whatever they ask you, refuse. You understand? You must refuse?"

The door opens and a man, Abu Bakar, enters with two armed Henchmen standing a little behind him. On one of the henchmen's wrist, he sees Jimmy's bright orange Mets watch from the earlier convoy.

"Welcome Tony Stark, the greatest mass murderer in the history of America," the Bakar says in Arabic. "It's a great honor." The bald man translates the main man's words for Tony. Bakar looks Tony up and down like a prized horse, then continues in Arabic, "I want you to build this for me - the Jericho missile you were demonstrating." Bakar holds out a photo, a surveillance image of the Jericho Missile launch. The bald man translates the previous statement.

". . . I refuse," Tony says and the bald dude backhands Tony across the face, going ballistic.

"You refuse? You will do everything he says. This is the great Abu Bakar. You're alive only because of his generosity. You are nothing. Nothing! He offers you his hospitality, and you answer only with insolence He will not be refused. You will die in a pool of your own blood!" the bald man screams at Tony. Bakar spoons at the bald man's food, and throws a look of smug satisfaction. He heads out, his two henchmen behind him, and he slams the door shut.

"Perfect," the bald man tells Tony. "You did very well, Stark." Tony looks utterly perplexed. "Good, I think they're staring to trust me." he returns to his cooking. "Well, that's the end of my plan."

A little while later, Tony is jostled awake by Bakar's henchmen, who wrestle a hood over his head. And he struggles as he's pulled to his feet, clutching his car battery hooked to his heart.

After a few minutes of walking, the hood is ripped off of Tony's head and he squints into the stinging daylight, his expression turning to shock as he takes in the scenery.

In a bowl of tall mountain, camouflaged tarps are furled, revealing tons of Stark Industries weapons dating back to the 80s, some of the logos faded and some new.

Tony, stunned staggers along the creates, the bald man following. "Quite a collection, isn't it?" he asks.

"How did they get all this?" Tony asks.

The brown eyed man translates for Bakar, "As you can see, they have everything you need to build the Jericho. He says make a list of materials. You will start work right away and when you are done, he will set you free."

Tony sees a heavily armed and imposing man, surrounded by several men, acting as pilot fish around him.

"No," Tony murmurs, "he won't."

"... no he won't," echoes the bald man.

Days later, James Rhodes and General Gabriel and a team of assets, along with Agent Clint Barton are assessing the remains of (Y/n) and Tony's convoy.

"Something's not right," Clint says, the blond looking up the two.

"Looks like a standard hit and run," General Gabriel says.

"Sir, I'm telling you, this was a snatch and grab," Rhodes says, a confused look on his face. "A perfectly executed linear ambush. As soon as they got what they wanted, they melted away."

"Intel's on it, we're in good hands. If they're out there, we'll get them," the General says.

"With your permission, I'd like to stay in theater and head up the search and investigation," Rhodes says.

"There's a PR firestorm brewing over this," the General answers. "Right now, the best way to serve your country is to get back there and handle it."

"Both Tony and (Y/n) Stark are the DOD's numbers one and two intellectual assets, and I can be one of value in the field," Rhodes counters.

"Duly noted, but we need you back home," Gabriel says, then he turns, walking away, adding. "Colonel, it's not lost on me that Tony Stark is a lifelong friend, and (Y/n) is your honorary niece."

Rhodey nods and heads for his Humvee as things are beginning to be packed up. Clint looks around, a look of grief spreading across his face as he realizes that it might take a lot longer than he thought to find his friend.

A few days later, Tony is sitting in a wheelbarrow by the furnace, wrapped in an Army surplus blanket, Yinsen, the bald man looming over him.

"I'm sure they're looking for you, Stark, but they will never find you here," Yinsen tells him. "That car battery is running out ... and thy wont turn on the generator till you start to work." Tony doesn't say anything and Yinsen continues. "You don't like what you saw out there, did you? I didn't like it either when those weapons destroyed my village. What you just saw, that's your legacy - you life's work in the hands of the murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to try to do something about it?"

"Why should I do anything, they're either going to kill me or I'm going to die in a week?" Tony says, despair evident in his voice.

"Then this is a very important week for you," Yinsen tells Stark.

A little while later, the lights come on as the generator is started. Bakar is flanked by several guards and watches as one of their guards goes to refuel the generator, then walks the gas can to a cage, housing a fuel drum, locking that down too.

"Okay, here's what I need," Tony says, packing back and forth, barking what he needs while more of Bakar's guards carry in missiles and materials. Yinsen follows, translating as Tony assesses his work area. "S-Category missiles. Lot 7042. The S-30 explosives tritonal. And a dozen of the S-76. Mortars: M-Category #1, 4, 8, 20, and 60. M-229's, I need eleven of these. Mines: the pre-90s AP 5s and AP 16s." Bakar's men dart about, grabbing the materials. "... this area free of clutter, with good light. I want it at 12 o'clock to the door to avoid logjams. I need welding gear - acetylene or propane, helmets, a soldering set-up with goggles, and smelting cups. Two full sets of precision tools.  Bakar starts getting exasperated by the never-ending list. "Finally, I need: three pairs of tube socks, white, a toothbrush, protein powder, spices, sugar, five pounds of tea, and some playing cars," Yinsen pauses a moment during the translation at the last request. "And a washing machine. Top load."

Bakar's eyes bulge, and he gets into Tony's face. "A washing machine!? Does he think I'm a fool!?" he yells in Arabic.

Tony talks to Bakar, "Must have everything. Great Satan makes big boom-kill for powerful Abu Bakar. Big boom-kill."

After a while, the two men get all of their materials. Tony pulls open a missile-housing and removes a glass ring from the inner workings of it's guts then he leads Yinsen up to a large missile crate.

They remove the chip-rack cylinder form a larger warhead.

"You do know they've removed all the explosives before they brought this to us," Yinsen says.

"I know," Tony says. "They're crazy, not stupid." Tony walks the heavy chip-rack to teh work-bench and removes a tiny palladium strip. "This is what we're looking for. I need eleven of these."

"Eleven?"

A little bit later, Yinsen removes all of the chip-rack cylinders, bring them to Tony, and the billionaire extracts all the palladium strips.

"Heat the palladium to 1825 degrees Kelvin," Tony instructs.

Yinsen at the furnace asks, "How will I know when it reaches that temperature?"

"The palladium will melt."

Tony wraps a copper coil around the glass ring, and drops the palladium strips into a crucible on the fire. Tiny sculpts a sand-mold of melted palladium to Tony.

"Careful, careful..." Tony warns.

"Relax," Yinsen says. "I always had steady hands. It's why you're still alive."

"Oh yeah, thanks. What do I call you?"

"My name is Yinsen," Yinsen says.

"Nice to meet you," Tony nods to the brown haired man.

"Nice to meet you, too," Yinsen says.

Tony lifts the palladium ring out of the mold with a tweezer.

A little while later, Tony is plugging a cable into the generation.

"What are you shaving for? We're almost done," Tony asks.

Yinsen, taking his time shaving tells Tony, "Look like an animal, and soon you'll start behaving like one."

Tony throws a generator switch and lights find in and out. The finished RT device, wired to the generator cable, beginning to glow on the workbench.

Yinsen wipes his face and trails Tony to the workbench. He undoes the wires, holding up the glowing RT device, "That doesn't look like a Jericho missile."

"That's because it's a miniature ARK reactor. It should suspend the shrapnel in my chest and keep it from entering my heart," Tony explains.

"What an original invention," Yinsen mutters sarcastically.

"Yeah, but this one's going to last a little longer than a week."

"It's pretty small, what can it generate?"

"The gigajoules - per second."

Yinsen marvels at the words, "That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes."

"Or something very big for fifteen minutes," Tony says, and the two men's gazes meet for a moment. Then Tony says, "Let's put it in."

Back in Malibu, Pepper Potts enters Tony's office and is surprised to Obadiah Stane sitting behind Tony's desk, his head in his hands. "Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks.

"A little..." Pepper murmurs and Stane watches as Pepper swaps yesterday's unread L.A. Times and Wall Street Journal with today's. Something she did everyday, like a vigil.

Stane rises, gazing out the windows at the vast Stark Industries compound, Pepper coming up behind him.

"This was a bad idea, I should never had let them go over there..." Stane starts to break down, and Pepper places a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey... we've got to be strong, they're both going to be okay," Pepper says crumbling inside herself.

Obadiah composes himself, and nods.

Back in Afghanistan, while Tony is working on the Jericho, a certain (H/C) headed woman isn't fairing too well.

Strapped to a metal bed, a knife sticking out of her left shoulder, cuts and bruises littering her arms, legs, and face, her head lying on the cold, hard metal.

She begins drifting off to sleep, but is startled awake as a bucket of cold water is dumped on her.

(Y/n) opens her (E/C) eyes, the usual gentle eyes full of pain and anger, dark bags visible under the woman's eyes.

Bakar walks in, a nasty smile on his face. "Turns out, you father is more cooperative than we though."

"You an asshole," (Y/n) growls.

Two men advance on (Y/n), knives in hand, and she holds back her screams of pain as they cross over half-healed cuts and bruises.

Weeks later, Tony has a beard and is filthy now, cutting metal flat-stock with a torch. His shirt is ripped open, revealing the glowing RT device in his shirt. Tony snuffs the torch, looking over his shoulder at Yinsen, who is concentrating on building a backgammon board.

Tony secretly begins filling a cylinder with gas from the torch.

Yinsen glances at Tony, "Stark, tell me what you're doing, and I'll tell you what I'm doing."

"Looks to me like you're making a crappy backgammon board," Tony infers.

"Crappy?" Yinsen asks incredulously. "This is Lebanese cedar."

"Is that where you're from, Lebanon?" Tony wonders.

"I'm impressed you even know what this is. How about we play, and if I win, you tell me what you're really making."

"'A' I don't know what your talking about. 'B' I was the backgammon champ at MIT four years running."

"Interesting," Yinsen says, "I was the champion at Cambridge."

"Please don't use 'interesting' and Cambridge in the same sentence," Tony pauses. "It that still a school?" he wonders.

"It's a university. You probably haven't heard about it since Americans can't get in."

"Unless their teaching," Tony points out.

After a little while, Tony wipes his face, pulls on a pair of gloves as he goes to the furnace. He takes a white-hot piece of metal from the forge and starts pounding on it.

Yinsen, smoldering a complex circuit, looks up. "My people have a tail, about a Prince - much hated by his King - who was banished to the underworld and jailed there ..."

The hammer echoes on the anvil and Yinsen continues, "The evil King gave him the most difficult labor - working the iron pits. Year after year, the Prince mined the heavy ore, becoming so strong that he could crush pieces of it with his bare hands. Too late, teh King realized his mistake. When he struck at the Prince with his finest sword - it broke in half. The Prince himself had become strong as iron..."

Tony, sweating, holds up the metal he's been working on, a crudely shaped iron mask. He tosses the mask down, and it lies there smoking and pulsing with heat.

Back at Stark Industries, Pepper watches Stane and Rhodey in close, heavy conversation. Obadiah, grave, looks over and catches Pepper's eye, then he walks off, shaking his head.

Rhodey starts walking out, but Pepper steps into his path. "So that's it?" Pepper asks, her voice cracking. "Everyone's pulling the plug and moving on..."

"There's nothing left we can do. If there was any indication that (Y/n) and Tony are still alive," Rhodey says softly.

"Spare me," Pepper snaps. "I read the official e-mail. Thought maybe you'd have something else to say." Rhodey follows Pepper into her office. "If anyone could figure out how to beat the odds, it's those two. If it was you over there, they'd be finding a way to get you back," Pepper pauses. "Or inventing a new one."

"What do you want me to do?" Rhodey asks.

"Be a better friend," Pepper says storming out out of her office, leaving Rhodey feeling stung.

A few hours later, Rhodey slings a duffel bag in front of a C-17, is shipping out on a line of soldiers. General Gabriel pulls up in a golf cart and approaches. Everyone salutes; the General pulls Rhodey aside.

"What do you think you're doing, Rhodes?"

"Going back there, Sir," Rhodes says.

"Listen, son - it's been three months without a single indication that either of the Starks are still alive. We can't keep risking assets, least of all, you."

"Are you blocking my transfer, Sir?" Rhodes asks.

"Any one of those guys would kill for your career," the General looks around, catching sight of a blond man and a black haired woman in black leather walking towards them, the man has a bow and quiver strapped to his back. "Are you willing to sacrifice that to fly a bunch of snake-eaters on the desert patrol half way around the world?"

"I am, sir," Rhodey says, and the blond, standing a few feet away, nods in approval.

"Than I have one thing to say to you: Godspeed," the General says, then motions the blond forward.

"I'm Agent Barton," Clint says and the General nods. "This," he gestures to the Asian woman, “is Agent May. We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." The archer couldn't even bring himself to say SHIELD with one of his best friends missing. "We'd like to go with Colonel Rhodes, with your permission sir."

The General nods and the three turn and head up the ramp and into the loading bay.

Word Count: 3226 Words

So... Yeah...

I feel super bad about all of this, but hopefully, something good happens in the next chapter... 😣

So, see y'all!

Love,            Kaitlynn ❤😍

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2, @awesomesuperbat2universe, @witchxaf, @marvel325​, @natashadeservedmore

[crazyassmurdererwall]

Re: Christmas in Connecticut au fics, you know what's coming now, right? If you would write a Christmas in Connecticut AU, who would be the soldier, who would be the writer and who would be the people pretending to be family?

haha...yeah, i probably figured this was coming.

911: Buck is the soldier, Eddie is the writer. Buck is injured in combat, and mentions in an interview how much he loves the blog and Instagram that Eddie runs where he talks about raising his son as a single parent, including recipes. Only the recipes all come from his next door neighbors, Bobby and Athena, who run a restaurant. When his PR people see Buck’s interview - and when they hear that Buck will be alone on Christmas, like always - they think it’s a great opportunity. What’s better than a former soldier helping another one out? Giving him the Christmas he deserves? Only, obviously, other than Christopher, nothing is quite what it seems and Eddie? Just about the worst cook you’ve ever met. And his house? More a tiny apartment. So Eddie’s all set to refuse when someone on his PR team tweets about the coming meeting and then Buck responds with how excited he is and oops??? So they set up the con and Bobby agrees to come along to be Eddie’s “uncle” and do all the cooking (while they pretend that Eddie is) and they have to keep the con going while news reporters are there filming their meeting and ooooooooops, maybe Eddie’s ACTUAL family shows up??? And it all eventually comes out but honestly Buck doesn’t really care because he’s kinda in love with all the Diaz family especially Eddie and Chris and he kinda wants to stay forever if they’ll have him?

Teen Wolf:  Derek is the soldier, Stiles is the writer. Derek has had a good Christmas - or much of one at all - since nearly his entire family was killed, and he and his sister Laura aren’t really close at all, especially not since he up and joined the Navy without telling her. But he was looking for family again, for purpose. He gets injured in combat (of course), and someone recommends this blog they love of this single dad from California that always makes them laugh. And Derek like, falls in love with this blog and this guy, and he mentions that to someone who mentions it to someone else and somehow now he has an invite to spend Christmas in California with this dad - Stiles - and his son and how did that happen???

Stiles is running a long con and he knows that, and look, he never expected to have something like this happen and he sorta wants to kill his assistant because he can’t believe she said yes to this Derek guy coming without asking him? And now he has to borrow his best friends’ baby and also he may have exaggerated his own cooking skills - he knows how to show that stuff off to its full potential on insta and his blog - and oh god what is he going to do??? And why is his dad laughing so hard???? (Featuring members of the Hale pack as friends and fam and Derek finally finds what he was looking for END SCENE.) 

[luulapants]

Hale Royal Family AU - Part 4

Based on @shey-elizabeth​‘s post:

”Me reading the Prince Harry-Meghan Markel royal family drama:

Wait… I think I read this fic already. (Starts scrolling through my AO3 history)

#random #royalty au #someone write me a steter fic #reading the news before coffee”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

May 2018

“Not that close,” Laura fussed, leaning forward and grabbing Stiles’s shoulders to shift him away from Peter’s body. Peter started to pull his arm back, but she clicked her tongue and grabbed his wrist to keep it in place. “There. Comfortable, affectionate, but not intimate.”

“God forbid the public should suspect we have sex,” Peter drawled, shooting her a cold smile.

His niece scowled at him. “Don’t do that smile during the interview. That’s your murder smile.”

“How else am I supposed to smile under these conditions?” he snapped.

Stiles reached over with both hands and pressed them to Peter’s cheeks, pushing upwards so the corners of his mouth lifted. “Just think about how many assholes are going to be upset about this interview,” he advised, “and how I’m gonna blow you in the limo on the way home.”

“Stiles!” Laura hissed. She waved her clipboard at him, looking over her shoulder at the few crew members milling about the set. “Great, that’s going to end up in a tabloid…”

Peter laughed, not sure if it was Stiles’s absurd behavior or Laura’s upset that wrung it out of him. “Laura, come on. I know how to do an interview. Stiles knows how to do an interview.”

“And they’ve never gone badly for you before,” she shot back with acid. She sighed and straightened up, looking down at their placement on the interview couch like she was tempted to fix something else. Instead, she just shifted her clipboard in her hands. “We’ve confirmed all of the questions, so there shouldn’t be any surprises. Stick to what we talked about and try not to get cute?”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Stiles assured her. Peter didn’t hear a blip in his heartbeat, which meant Stiles truly believed the dirty lie he had just told.

Peter rolled his eyes and waved her off, watching her retreat to the other side of the studio just as Leanne Mitchell, entertainment journalist and professional terror, stepped in. She had been the interviewer for Peter’s infamous coming out, and he suspected she was harboring a vendetta under that ridiculous pile of bleach-blond curls.

“Are we ready to roll? We’ll start with introductions,” she called as the crew members scrambled.

The first five minutes went by uneventfully. They recounted the proposal for her, which they had already done for half a dozen different news outlets. Peter noticed that Stiles had a bit of a script down for how he told it now, repeating the same phrases each time. Part of him wondered if the magic and joy of that memory grew thinner with each poised, practiced retelling.

“Now, the venue has gotten quite a bit of attention,” Leanne said. “Most people were expecting the ceremony to take place at a druidic temple, either Temple of Blodeuwedd, where most of your family has been married, or perhaps Gwyddion Temple in San Francisco. There was even speculation that you might choose a human house of worship for Stiles.”

He and Stiles had both had a good laugh over those news articles when the PR department presented them. They didn’t even specify which human religion they purported Stiles to follow, as if they were all equally nonessential and absurd.

“So why a non-religious venue?” Leanne asked. “Why the winery?”

“Well, when you own a wedding venue...” Stiles joked, and Peter squeezed his shoulder, silently reining him in before he could wander too far off-script. He couldn’t help the grin, though.

“We spend a lot of time there, and it’s a beautiful location,” Peter explained. “We like that it’s a little more secluded – a royal wedding is always going to have a lot of flash and publicity, but we want there to be a sense of…” He searched for the right word, glancing off to the side.

“Intimacy,” Stiles filled in. “We want it to feel like our wedding, not just a royal wedding.”

Peter turned and kissed the side of Stiles’s head. Laura would like that.

“Besides, Peter really loves the winery,” Stiles continued. “It’s his labor of love. It wouldn’t feel right if it wasn’t there with us.” He was quite good at these soundbites when he put his mind to it.

“It does look like a spectacular location. I think we have some photos we can run for the viewers,” Leanne said, looking toward the camera. She paused, then turned back to them.

“And will you have a druid officiating the ceremony or will you try for something more… multicultural?” she ventured, fishing for some sign that Stiles was going to muck up royal tradition with weird human shit.

“My family isn’t very religious,” Stiles explained. “My parents were both raised Eastern Orthodox, but I think I went to mass maybe five times as a kid.”

“Our pack emissary will be officiating, as he did for my sister and niece,” Peter added.

Looking unperturbed by the lack of scandal, Leanne changed the subject. “So, Peter, tell me a bit about your suit. We all know you have quite the refined fashion sense.”

Peter couldn’t glance over at Stiles, could only pray that he wasn’t making a derisive face at her words. “It’s slate gray, and we’ve found a really talented embroidery house out of Los Angeles, so it will be embroidered with navy...” He went on about the designer, the ethical manufacturing, the locally sourced artistry. All of the bits Laura had put bold and underlined on his talking points.

Leanne turned to Stiles with a sweet smile, and Peter smelled blood in the metaphorical water. “Of course, the fashion questions here are a bit different than your typical royal wedding. What will you be wearing, Stiles?”

Not ‘tell me about your suit.’ Not ‘will you be wearing the same thing?’

“Any surprises?” she added.

Peter knew it was about to go sideways before Stiles even opened his mouth, but he made no attempt to rein him in this time.

“Well, you know, I was gonna go for the white dress, but I just don’t have the hips for it,” he said. “Besides, have you seen how pale I am?” He held out an arm and pulled up his sleeve in demonstration. “They’ve got flash filters for the werewolf eyes, but nothing’s going to tame all of this pasty goodness dressed in white.” Peter bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

On the other side of the room, he could hear the clipboard in Laura’s hands creaking under the strain of her grip. She thought this was going to be over quickly, or was hoping. Peter knew better, could hear the way Stiles’s tone was ramping up as the indignation and sarcasm and pettiness churned at one another. Once he got going, he would keep going until stopped.

“Plus, there’s all that historical nonsense with white being for virgins -”

The clipboard snapped in half.

“So obviously that was out. Then I started thinking, you know, what’s the opposite of that? And then I thought, leather.” Peter’s battle against his composure was steadily losing ground, his shoulders and chest shaking in silent hysterics. “Leather pants, leather vest – no shirt, of course.” Leanne’s mouth had dropped open, and it seemed she had forgotten how to close it again.

Peter cracked and had to press the side of his fist to his mouth to stifle it. “Sweetheart,” he chastised through laughter, figuring he really should cut this off before Stiles dug himself deeper than even he wanted to go.

Stiles glanced at Peter, sheepish but not half as sheepish as he should have looked, considering. He shook his head and sighed. “I have a matching suit. It’s navy with gray embroidery.”

God, this was a disaster. Talia was going to flay him alive. Peter, for the life of him, couldn’t get his laughter under control. “Why don’t you -” he attempted, but he was still laughing as he spoke. He tried again, still laughing, but powered through. “Why don’t you ask us about catering?” he suggested.

Beside him, Stiles snorted and abruptly broke into wheezing hysterics of his own.

It was the last wedding interview Laura would ask them to do.

----

“Oh my god, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking,” Stiles laughed against Peter’s shoulder. “I thought I was going to drop that fucking candle and burn down the altar.”

They had retreated to the cottage on the east end of the vineyard, where he and Stiles would get thirty whole minutes to catch their breath between the ceremony and the reception. Cameras had followed them on the winding path through the rows of grapevines. Peter, for once, had barely noticed, Stiles’s hand warm and firm in his own, both of them tense and exuberant and giddy with relief all at once.

The second the door had closed behind them, Stiles had pressed into Peter’s space, clinging to him with hysterical little giggles.

For once, Peter didn’t find himself wondering how the optics had turned out, if anyone had made an inappropriate expression during the ceremony, if he hadn’t looked regal enough or if the personalized vows would be well-received.

“Come here,” he said, tugging Stiles over to the sitting area. He pulled back just long enough to take off his suit jacket. Someone had set out a rack with coat hangers for them. God forbid they should arrive to the reception with wrinkled fabric. They sat curled together on the couch, quietly willing their jitters away. “So how does it feel?” Peter asked.

“You mean aside from the crippling anxiety?” Stiles joked. He snuggled in and kissed the spot just below Peter’s earlobe. “Not very different. Just feels like being with you. Feels normal.”

“Yeah, but now you can’t get rid of me,” Peter reminded him with a smirk.

“I already couldn’t get rid of you.” He settled his head against Peter’s shoulder, and Peter could hear his jittery heartbeat steadying.

----

It seemed like hardly any time had passed at all before an attendant came to fetch them for the reception. The cameras trailed after them on the walk to the main hall. Peter could scarcely recognize the place under the layers of fabric and flowers and chandeliers. The decorator had really gone all out to turn his chic, modern winery into a traditional, romantic royal venue.

Peter had expected polite clapping as they entered the room, but Stiles’s contingent of guests broke into raucous hoots and hollers that at first seemed to startle the royals. Then, after a moment, he heard a few familiar voices breaking out in cheers as well – Derek, Laura and Marco, Cora. Talia couldn’t, he knew, but she grinned at him like she wanted to all the same.

The lights dimmed, leaving them with nothing but the summer sun as it streamed through the plate glass windows. The music came up.

A few months before they got together, Peter had showed up at Stiles’s apartment one night to the sound of The Four Tops crooning I’m in a Different World. Stiles had been at the stove in a pair of jeans and an apron, waving a spatula as he sung along. He turned around and grinned at Peter, still swinging his hips and dancing like an idiot.

“This is a change of pace for you,” Peter had commented. Normally, Stiles listened to club music, pop, electronica.

“My dad and I found a bunch of my mom’s old CDs when I was helping him move,” Stiles explained. He removed a pancake from the skillet, then turned the stove off. “She was obsessed with Motown. I’ve been listening to it for, like, three days straight.”

The song ended, and soft piano came on, a song Peter didn’t recognize.

“Oh man, she loved this one,” Stiles sighed. He turned and wandered toward Peter.

Then, Gladys Knight’s soft voice joined the music, singing,

“I've had my share of life's ups and downs

But fate's been kind, the downs have been few

I guess you could say that I've been lucky

Well, I guess you could say that it's all because of you”

Stiles’s arms settled over his shoulders, and Peter gripped his hips, helpless to do anything but sway with the music while Stiles sang along. It felt silly, but then Stiles looked him in the eye as he sang, “Cause you're the best thing that ever happened to me.” And it didn’t feel silly at all.

The first dance song would be called out in most of the endless blog lists of ‘surprises and unforgettable moments’ from their wedding. Another that made the majority of the lists came just after dinner.

Talia, seated at Peter’s right, stood and tapped her fork against her glass. She hardly needed the noise, though. The moment she rose, every eye went immediately to her, the room falling silent within moments.

“I want, once again, to thank everyone for being here to celebrate with us today,” she said, her tone poised. “Peter, Stiles, I can’t express the joy I feel when I see the two of you together, how happy you make one another. I know it’s traditional for wedding gifts to be opened after the wedding, but I have one which doesn’t come wrapped in paper. If you don’t mind, I would like to present it to you now.”

Peter lifted his eyebrows at her and nodded. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going. There had been quite a lot of buzz over whether Talia would carve out part of the crown’s territory for Peter and Stiles or whether she would leave them without titles beyond succession to the crown. There had also been quite a lot of talk over whether two men could hold the same title.

An attendant came to Talia’s side and supplied her with a scroll of paper, tied with a blue ribbon. “Peter, Stiles, it is my honor to grant you title over a part of our family’s territory. And it seems fitting to make the announcement here, in a place you have made yourselves so much at home.”

It was Santa Rosa, then. A small city, to be sure, but notable enough in name that it would give some measure of respectability.

“By my decree, I now grant to both of you the title Duke of Sonoma County.”

Peter’s jaw dropped. Not just Santa Rosa but the whole county. While Talia was the queen of the entirety of the United States and Canada, the crown held direct rule over ten counties surrounding San Francisco Bay. By land area, Sonoma County was the largest of the ten. He looked over at Stiles and found the same stunned look on his face.

Belatedly, Peter lurched to his feet, and leaned in to take the paper and kiss his sister on the cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured.

----

Of the blogs and tabloid articles and Youtube videos recounting the surprises and touching moments, the ending of their vows made an appearance in every one.

He and Stiles stood at the altar, hands held together, wrapped in a white cloth. They had gone back and forth, exchanging the vows one by one.

Do you promise to protect me?

I do. Do you promise to protect me?”

I do.

Do you promise to be patient?

Finally, Peter said, “Do you promise to love me always, even when I get on your nerves?”

And Stiles grinned and squeezed his hands inside of the cloth. “Peter, I promise to love you always. Especially when you get on my nerves. Do you promise to love me always, even when I get on your nerves?”

“Especially then.”

----

The real surprising moment, which none of the tabloids would learn about, came at the end of the night, when half of the guests had retired to their hotels or homes. A buffet of Indian food had been brought in as a late-night snack. Stiles was sitting with some of his friends, his head resting on Kira’s shoulder as he stuffed pakora into his face with half-lidded eyes.

Peter felt as tired as Stiles looked. He had been warned that wedding night sex was essentially a myth. Talia had advised him to leave the comforter off the bed in the cottage. By the time everything was over, they would be too exhausted to even pull back the blankets.

“Peter,” said a voice to his left, and he forced himself to smile as he looked up. Archduchess Iris was his great-aunt, on his father’s side. She had been around quite a lot when he was a child, but less so since his parents passed in his twenties. He remembered her as being old back then, her face creased with wrinkles, hair gray and white. The only difference now was that she had lost the bits of gray.

“Aunt Iris,” he greeted, standing and kissing her cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it. And impressed that you’re still out partying at this hour.” Most of the older guests had made their exits already.

She smiled and sat next to him. “Well, I wanted to give you my personal congratulations before I leave,” she told him, and Peter couldn’t help but feel touched. Most of the older generation had seemed affronted or at least mildly uncomfortable since his coming out. Marrying a commoner human hadn’t helped matters. “You seem very happy.”

“I am,” he agreed. “Thank you. It means a lot, knowing my family is happy for me.”

“It’s been a difficult adjustment, for a lot of the family,” she conceded. “They worry what it means for our species, for our titles, our culture.” She patted his hand. “They’re not malicious people. They just fear change.” Iris sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out a small slip of paper. “I know that you will be able to uphold our way of life as well as anyone, Peter. You’re a good man.”

She passed him the paper, and Peter felt his heart lurch as he looked it over. Epona Surrogacy Services: surrogacy specialists for weres, kitsune, and others. He looked up at her, not sure what to say.

“You didn’t think you would get out of the baby nagging just because you’re gay, did you?” she teased.

“Honestly?” Peter breathed, looking back down at the card. “I sort of did.”

----

As Talia had predicted, they barely managed to get out of their suits after they retired to the cottage for the night. They slept until nearly noon the next day, lazy and warm in the soft light that filtered through the curtains. Stiles lie on top of him, rutting against him with two of Peter’s fingers curled inside of him. He came with a quiet moan against Peter’s lips. Once he had recovered, he sat up and rode him at an agonizingly slow pace until Peter thought he would lose his mind.

“Your first act as my husband is to torture me,” Peter whined. He tried again to grip Stiles’s hips, though Stiles had already batted his hands away twice. This time, he grabbed both of Peter’s hands and laced their fingers together.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into,” Stiles replied.

Afterward,  they opted to shower separately, if only because they had a plane to catch that afternoon. Peter was still rinsing the shampoo from his hair when Stiles came back into the bathroom and leaned against the counter.

“Surrogacy services, huh?” he called over the sound of the water.

Peter froze, then hastily finished rinsing before sticking his head out of the shower door. “My Aunt Iris gave that to me last night,” he explained. “She said we weren’t going to get out of the baby nagging simply because we’re both men.”

Stiles stared down at the card thoughtfully. “And this...” He waved the card toward Peter. “This is something you want to do?”

He hesitated. It was a big discussion, one that they had touched on in more vague terms. A conversation he thought they would start having much, much later than this. The last they had left it, they were both open to the idea, but neither of them felt that they needed children in their lives to be fulfilled. “I don’t know,” Peter admitted.

“Me neither,” Stiles agreed.

Peter reached back and turned the water off. He could use leave-in conditioner. Reaching for a towel, he suggested, “Would it be okay if we tabled this until after the honeymoon?”

Stiles’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Definitely.”

----

An attendant had left them a newspaper to read on their way to Bali. Peter glanced through it while Stiles played games on his computer.

Smiling, he nudged Stiles’s arm and turned the paper to show him the headline of the Society section:

Princes Peter and Stiles Buck Tradition with Style

[helloyoucreatives]

TENA has partnered with femtech sex toy brand Je Joue to send influencers an intimate device which brings pleasure as well as improving pelvic floor strength, to demonstrate that wellness doesn’t have an age limit.

The #Ageless wellbeing packs will be delivered to influencers across the UK and France, and feature HANX lubricant, kegel exercise instructions and TENA Silhouette underwear. They also feature beautiful illustrations and typography by artist Stina Persson, and build on the brand’s #Ageless strategy created by AMV BBDO, and supported by Ketchum from a PR strategy side.

The strikingly-designed packs include a QR code linking the recipient to the free TENA app, called ‘My Pelvic Floor Fitness’, which features daily reminders, progress tracking and helpful tips. As the box is opened, the shape of a woman’s body comes into view on its outside with the strapline: “Our bodies change but why should we?”

The new campaign is supported by an extensive spokesperson and influencer programme executed by Finn Communications and launched during the last week of June.

#Ageless began in March with a 60-second film directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, director of multi-award-winning film, The Favourite, designed to stimulate and provoke conversation about the realities of ageing; to celebrate the positivity, as well as challenge perceptions of incontinence.

Bridget Angear, Joint Chief Strategy Officer at AMV BBDO, explains: “Older women’s sexuality has long been underestimated and underrepresented. With Je Joue and these wellbeing packs we encourage women to continue enjoying the pleasure they can get from their bodies, no matter what age they are.”

Jason Kaplanis, Global Brand Communications Manager at TENA, adds: “This campaign forms part of our “I will be me” platform which aims to create a healthier and more open conversation about the issue of incontinence and female self image. The little box of wellbeing was planned and developed six months ago when we had no idea how much the world was about to change. Self-care has never been more important.”

The new campaign will run across influencers’ social channels for two weeks.

Creative Directors                              Rosie Arnold, Toby Allen, Jim Hilson

Creative Team                                    Clark Edwards, Andre Hull, Verity Fenner, Julia Merino

CEO                                                     Sarah Douglas

Chief Strategy Officer                        Bridget Angear

Strategy Partner                                 Tom White

Senior Strategist                                 Rob Sellars

Senior Board Account Director          Tessa Brisbane, Harriet Harrison

Senior Account Director                    Laura Hazell

Senior Account Manager                   Rebecca Thomas

Account Executive                              Aneesha Ghattaora

Agency Producer                               Rosie Stipic, Olivia Fryer

Agency Designer                                Chris Chapman, Richard Holgate

Project Manager                                Sarah Hoile, Katie Fewster

Artist                                                   Stina Persson

[samwrights]

The Game // [2]

Summary: Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield, and Jacob Batalon started a game back when they first began filming Spider-Man: Homecoming—to sleep with as many different extras as possible before the movie premiered. Their current targets are the ladies of the band Navy Skies, a ragtag group of young adults that were blessed with the opportunity to play in the homecoming dance scene. Fed up with the boys’ sick game, Laura and Zendaya are taking bets on who gets their heart broken first.

Pairing: fuckboy!Tom x OC, fuckboy!Harrison x OC, fuckboy!Jacob x OC, hints of TomDaya

Words: 2537

Inspo: Too Sexy // Right Said Fred Often // The Weeknd

Disclaimer: Lyric graphics were created by me, y’all. I’m not saying don’t steal it cause they’re not that impressive tbh but like don’t steal them.

Warnings: Mild sexual themes.

Check out the previous part  >here<

The rest of the show went along swimmingly. Navy Skies was currently packing up their equipment, discussing their plans to go out after a successful day. Tom, Harrison, and Jacob walked up to the band.

“That show was sick!” Jacob cheered.

“Yeah, you guys were amazing. Sad that this was the only scene you guys will be in.” Tom added, trying to coax a response out of the girls. More so, his girl, as he kept his eyes locked on his target. “Since we’re all done shooting tonight, you lot should come to a little party at my house.”

“Ooh, party.” Mac said, giving a laid back hang loose sign.

“Send us the address?” Cameron said, locking eyes with Tom for what felt like the first time. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was finally able to notice that her brown eyes matched his.

“Sure, have you got your phone on you?” He asked, trying to feign innocence. Cameron pulled hers out of the back pocket of her ripped shorts that she had changed into after the show, pulling up a new contact page so Tom could enter his information. Unbeknownst to her, he smirked, knowing he was getting a leg up over Haz and Jacob. The faster he could claim his victory, the faster he could move onto his next target. Tom handed Cameron’s phone back to her, making sure his touch lingered a bit longer and that he smiled and made eye contact with her. She shied away from him, feeling uncomfortable with his overly hungered glance.

“We should drop out equipment off at home, and we’ll head over after. Sound good?” Dani said; the rest of band nodded in agreement.

“Great, we’ll see you all there.” Harrison sad, rubbing his hands together while keeping his eyes locked on Ruby. She pretended not to notice—they all did. But they knew they were going to discuss it all in their van on the way home.

The members of Navy Skies unloaded their equipment, lugging it up one by one to their second story apartment. After that, they all changed out of their now sweaty clothes and decided to clean up for the night, getting dressed up enough to impress, but not to look like they were trying too hard. They wanted to create the impression that it were just typical of them to be running around in simple, little black dresses, or in Mac’s case, black slacks and a pastel button up.

‘Address?’ Cameron sent a text message to Tom as the four of them piled up in Ruby’s car. Cam sat shot gun, much to the complaint of Malachi, since she was navigating. He always sat shot gun due to his height, but the eldest of the group put her foot down on the matter by ignoring him and pulling up the directions to Tom’s Georgia home.

It was quieter than the group had been expecting—big Hollywood party would have had hundreds of people...right? But in the driveway were only a handful of cars, just enough to force Ruby to park in the street outside of the house. Cam sent Tom another message, letting them know they were here, to which he responded with no answer, but instead appearing from the side of the house behind a fence. He unlocked the gate, coming to greet the group and welcome them to his home.

“I’m glad you all made it!” He said, hugging each of them but making sure to save Cameron for last. Instead of pulling away from her entirely, he wrapped an arm loosely around her back as he guided them to his yard. “It’s just a small get together tonight, we’ve got a fire going in the back yard.” His beautiful yard was filled with the cast and close friends all sitting by the fire or a couple of them swimming in the in-ground pool.

“Hey, they made it!” The cast jeered together in greeting. It was strange for the four member of Navy Skies—it almost felt like they were being welcomed into some crazy elite inner circle. They approached Laura and Zendaya who were sitting at the fire pit, feeling the most comfortable with the ladies. Jacob and Harrison who were both swimming, pulled themselves out of the pool to join the group by the fire.

“Fancy a drink?” Haz asked, making it seem as if it were an open ended question, but his eyes were trained on Ruby.

“Beer.” Dani and Cam chimed in unison, making the other laugh.

“Anything but beer.” Mac replied, causing Laura and Z to laugh and hold up their red solo cups in cheers towards him—they weren’t big beer drinkers either.

“Nothing for me, I’m driving.” Ruby said, causing Harrison to frown. He asked her again, telling her one drink wouldn’t kill her. “No, really I’m fine. But I’ll help you bring them out?” She offered out of politeness. Harrison accepted, walking off with Ruby towards the house. Jacob had taken the seat between Mac and Dani, with Cameron sitting next to her. The sound of the crackling fire was the only thing filling the current silence.

“So are you guys from here? Or…?” Laura asked with genuine interest, taking a sip of her vodka cranberry. Tom, Harrison, and Ruby all returned with drinks for the group, distributing them respectively. Tom took a seat next to Cam, handing her a beer. She thanked him with a small smile, noticing he had given her craft rather than domestic. The type of beer a person drank and offered says a lot about their character, she had always said.

“We’re actually from Chicago.” Mac answered after he thanked Ruby for bringing him his own vodka cranberry.

“Really? So what brings you guys out here?” Zendaya asked, looking at Laura briefly before looking at Harrison and Ruby. Her and Laura had their own plans.

“Cameron, actually.” Ruby answered. At this, the group turned to the brunette in question, who just started taking a gulp of her beer. “She just decided she wanted to move closer to the music scene, so she did all the research, found the place and locations we could transfer to work for our day jobs, and here we are.”

“To Cameron.” Tom said jokingly, but raising his beer towards the center in cheers. The rest of the group reciprocated, each of them taking a drink.

“So, we should play a game.” Jacob offered after silence threatened them again. The boys couldn’t afford silence or discomfort. “Let’s play truth or dare!” Everyone let out a laugh, but ultimately ended up agreeing to it. Jacob finished his beer, placing the bottle over the fire pit cover. Was it the smartest thing to do? Absolutely not. It was obvious that it didn’t matter much to them. Jacob spun first, the bottle landing on Laura. “Alright bitch, truth or dare?” He said endearingly.

“Truth!” She replied.

“Ugh, you’re boring.” Jacob joked. “Fine, how disappointed were you when Tom’s idea for a sex scene got denied?” The cast looked at him wide eyed, while the band was howling with laughter at the insider information.

“Jacob!” Laura protested.

“That’s tea!” Mac laughed out, doing his best not to choke on his drink.

“I was not disappointed. I was relieved, if anything.” She responded, sticking her tongue out to Tom.

“Ouch, Laura.” Tom joked, holding his heart in mock hurt. “I was looking forward to doing that scene.” His flirtatiousness didn’t go amiss upon his target, but she ignored it, chalking it up to typical Tom behavior.

“Please, that would be a PR nightmare. Every headline would just talk about some stupid love triangle between you, me, and Z.” Laura was being very meticulous in her word choice. While she was trying to make sure that their guests understood the gravity of the casts’ friendship, she was also trying to increase difficulty in the boys’ stupid game. Tom waved off her statement, telling her to spin the damn bottle. It landed on Cameron. “Okay, Cam. Truth or dare?”

“I’m gonna play it safe for now and say truth.”

“Pussy!” Mac and Dani jeered to their singer, earning laughs from the group.

“Okay, okay. Truth it is.” Laura said. “So the first thing we all noticed is the tattoos—where is the most hidden tattoo on your body?” Navy Skies once again erupted in laughter, except for the singer.

“Oh, shit okay. I got really really drunk in Vegas once, and I got ‘No Exit’ tattooed on the inside of my lip.” To prove she was telling the truth, Cameron pulled down her pierced lip, revealing the faded tattoo. This time around, the entire group shook with raucous guffaws. The bottle went around a couple more times, resulting in Mac giving Harrison a rather sensual lap dance, and Dani having to skinny dip and remain in nothing but a towel for the rest of the game. Now Dani spun the bottle, landing on Tom.

“Truth or dare, buddy?” She asked.

“I’m going to have to go with dare.”

“Alright, I dare you to give a strip tease to a person of your choice for two songs that I pick.” A smirk touched his lips as Dani controlled the outdoor speaker momentarily, putting it on loud enough to be heard over the cheers and chuckles of the party. The beat of Right Said Fred’s “Too Sexy” came on, and he knew it was go time.

Without a moments hesitation, Tom turned to the brunette next to him, a smoldering gaze in his eyes as he did a dramatic turn before slowly approaching Cameron, his steps in sync to the music. As the chorus came around, Tom crept close enough to be nose to nose with her, slowly fingering the hem of his muscle tee. He peeled it off excruciatingly slow, revealing each individual row of abs until his pecs were showing before completely tearing his shirt off and wrapping it around her neck before he strutted away to give Cameron a full view. Tom walked back to her as if on an imaginary catwalk to match the beat of the music. The first song ended as Tom ended up straddling his target, making sure to touch his bare chest to hers, his beauty leaving her breathless as it transitioned into The Weeknd’s “Often”. Tom ground his hips into Cam’s to ensure she could feel his ever growing erection as a sultry voice began to fill the speaker. He strutted further from her, repeating his previous actions as the chorus made it’s first reprise. This time, as he approached, he slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans; the denim fell as he approached her. With grace and continuity, Tom stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers.

Tom returned to straddling Cameron’s legs, shamelessly grinding into his target in hopes of turning her on. His breath caressed her cheeks as he rested his forehead on hers, his lips ghosting over Cam’s. There were two things that she couldn’t deny in this very moment—how attractive Tom was and how incredibly turned on she was. It was obvious he was too, and his lack of clothing provided more sound evidence. “Often” presented the final chorus and came to a close just as Tom’s hand began to snake up Cam’s dress, feeling the softness of her skin. His hand ghosted over her pussy in time with the song, making her heart stop. The world stood still as the song ended, save for the cackling of the gentle fire as both of their rich brown eyes mirrored lust. “It’s just the beginning, darling.” He whispered, just loud enough so that she would be the only one able to hear before pulling away from his target. As if nothing had happened, Tom nonchalantly returned to his seat beside her without putting his clothes back on, a smug smirk on his face. She had gotten a taste, he thought to himself. Now all he had to do was wait.

The slow burning fire began to die out as the party came to a close. Dani had put her clothes back on at some point, cracking silly jokes with Jacob. Mac was hanging out with Laura and Z in the pool. Harrison and Ruby were locked in what seemed to be a somewhat serious conversation with solemn smiles. Tom, who was still in only his boxers, was enjoying the little stories that he had goaded Cameron into telling him about her upbringing. And, though he would never admit it, her stories actually intrigued him.

Cameron didn’t have a super tragic life outside of a severely abusive relationship she was in when she was a late teenager. According to her, two years with the guy had been enough to set her on the path she was currently on—free to enjoy whatever life had to offer without worry of the repercussions of her decisions. It sounded so liberating. It was ironic, almost, how she was barely three years older than him but had already gained such wisdom and responsibility. It was alluring, in a way. A glimmer of pride would flood over her brown eyes and he wanted to make sure it would stay. “But enough about me, what about you? I’m sure you’ve got much better stories than I do.”

“You really think so, darling? I wouldn’t say that. I am blessed to be where I am now, and that includes sitting right here in my home with you.” Cam rolled her eyes, a playful grin touching her lips.

“Jesus, does that line actually work?” For a brief second, Tom was taken aback slightly. It usually does, he thought to himself.

“Depends, is it working for you?” He replied, regaining his composure.

“Not even a little. I won’t lie though, that strip tease almost got me, but you have got to work harder than that to get into my pants.” A devilish smirk crossed Tom’s features—this was the direction he needed this conversation to go in.

“Alright then, love, tell me. What do I have to do?” Cameron furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, not expecting him to continue his pursuit.

“What, with me? Come on, Tom. You’ve gotta be kidding.” He turned to face her fully, shadows created by the dying fire allowing his features to flow. “I’m sure there are plenty of other girls you could sleep with that are little to no effort.”

“Of course, darling.” His elbows were resting on his knees as he reached for her tattooed hands, holding them gingerly in his. “But that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking about you.” Her focus was trained on her intertwining hands; she refused to make eye contact—afraid he would be able to call her bluff. In truth, she would jump at the opportunity to sleep with him had he asked. But by the direction of this conversation, Tom was opening up the window of opportunity for more than just a single night of drunken lust. If she had a shot at him, there was no way Cameron wouldn’t take it.

“Breakfast. Tomorrow. For the hangover I am guaranteed to have when I wake up.” Tom looked at her confused, instinctively pulling his hands away.

“Breakfast?” His ton was incredulous, the look on his face matching his voice when Cam finally met his brown gaze. She nodded slowly in response, repeating the word back to him. Tom sucked in a breath, a small chuckle escaping as he exhaled. “Okay, darling. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

TAG LIST

@xxoerinnoxx @araeni

Check out Part 3 >Here<

[ghostcultmagazine]

(Fans please note: we had some video issues on Keefy's end so we filled in with a slide show of Michael at his book reading and signing event in 2020). Ghost Cult Caught up once again with the great Michael Alago, to discuss his 2020 memoir - "I Am Michael Alago: Breathing Music. Signing Metallica. Beating Death" and a host of other topics. Michael caught us up on what he has been doing since the lockdown year, how he managed to tirelessly promote his book with PR and his use of social media and livestreams, his next photography book he is working on, some thoughts on streaming, his next appearance on Gimme Metal, newer bands he is into such as Ether Coven and Plague Years, his plans for upcoming tours and festivals, and of course, some stories about Metallica. Interview by Ghost Cult Keefy (https://ift.tt/2LlAx1W). Video editing and photos by Omar Cordy of OJC Photography (https://www.instagram.com/ojcpics​​​​). Theme music by Salted Wounds (https://ift.tt/31seIpV). Purchase the book here: “I Am Michael Alago: Breathing Music. Signing Metallica. Beating Death”, written with Laura Davis-Chanin - out now! https://ift.tt/2zJ49Ux Catch Michael's next show on Gimme Metal on August 30th! https://gimmemetal.com Follow Michael on Social Media: https://ift.tt/2KJWMOW https://ift.tt/2Y85te9 https://twitter.com/michaelalago1 Gear we use: Set up A: Sony A7 III - https://amzn.to/3tQm422 Tamron 17-28 - https://amzn.to/3ePrlTd Tamron 28-75 - https://amzn.to/3fqCjgY Desview Mavo-P5 Monitor- https://amzn.to/33LlTub Manfrotto Befree Travel Tripod - https://amzn.to/3hxbL0e Set up B: Canon 80D - https://amzn.to/3ye8WqV Sigma MC-11 - https://amzn.to/3brZdU2 Sigma 18-35 - https://amzn.to/3tLlEd7 Tokina 11-16 - https://amzn.to/3bty9Uk Feelworld T7 Monitor - https://amzn.to/2Re9hta Audio: Sound Devices MixPre-3 - https://amzn.to/3tKkJd2 Gearlux XLR Mic Cable - 3 Pack - https://amzn.to/3w3zN6Y Deity D3 Microphone - https://amzn.to/3tRa6W2 Fifine Usb Mic - https://amzn.to/3w8JHEG Lighting: YONGNUO YN600L - https://amzn.to/2QkNrn5 YONGNUO YN300 Air - https://amzn.to/2QjN5gu Dfuse Softbox - https://amzn.to/3uQq4AN Aputure MC - https://amzn.to/3oirFgx NanLite PavoTube II 6C - http://bit.ly/NanLitePavoTubeII Lightstands - https://amzn.to/3uSBl3x 5 in 1 Reflector - https://amzn.to/33KHdjo And our iconic Rope Light https://amzn.to/3ycdmyz For the full list of Ghost Cult gear: http://bit.ly/OJCPicsKit This video contains a shoutout to DopeSkum (https://ift.tt/2VeaTVc) Get yours by visiting our pinned post on Twitter! https://twitter.com/GhostCultMag/status/1142861626590355456 by Ghost Cult Magazine

[amazing-web]

temas: SIN editar 2 Chainz - Bounce (Explicit) ft. Lil Wayne.mp35 Seconds Of Summer - Youngblood.mp3A Perfect Circle - So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish.mp3A Perfect Circle - TalkTalk.mp3Alan Walker - Faded (Remix)Shuffle Dance Electro House.mp3Alan Walker EDM Party Club Dance Mix 2018 - Best Shuffle Dance.mp3Alejandro Fern ndez - Tienes Que Entender (Live From El Hospicio Cabañas 2017).mp3Alesso - Cool ft. Roy English.mp3Alkilados - La Bicicleta.mp3Alok, Bruno Martini Ft. Zeeba - Hear Me Now.mp3Amar Azul - Yo Me Enamor.mp3Anitta - Medicina.mp3Anne-Marie - Ciao Adios.mp3Anuel AA - Brindemos feat. Ozuna.mp3Anuel AA - Ella Quiere Beber (Remix) ft. Romeo Santos.mp3Anuel AA - Ella Quiere Beber.mp3Anuel AA - Yeezy feat. Ñengo Flow.mp3Anuel AA Haze - Amanece.mp3Ariana Grande - Dangerous Woman.mp3Ariana Grande - Focus.mp3Ariana Grande - Into You.mp3Ariana Grande - thank u, next.mp3AUGUST 08 - Spiral feat. 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INFORMACIÓN DEL PRODUCTO: Formato: MP3 HQ Sonido: Stereo

Pistas: 376 canciones

Time: 25 Hrs de reproducción Precio en el mercado: EUR 18,00

[project-runway-rankings]

Season 3 Episode 3- Stop Doggin’ My Look!

This was one of my favorite challenges in PR history because I love dogs.  In fact, just a few weeks ago I adopted my own lil pup, Buster, a Jack-a-Bee (mutt essentially). 

This challenge brought a lot of “real-world” clothing which I kind of liked after the oddness of the first challenge and extravagance of the second.  The designers were tasked to create a look for a woman who owned a specific dog and a corresponding look for the dog.  My rankings are mostly being dictated by the human wear, unless the dog’s clothing is amazing or non-existent (ahem KEITH!!!!)

Onto the rankings:

13. Angela

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HOW DID THIS NOT GET ELIMINATED GIRL BYEEE!!!

12. Katherine

I’d like to say that I can’t be too mad that Katherine was eliminated but good lord Angela’s was so bad. This look isn’t bad, it’s just nothing.  I like the colors that she chose, and the hoodie on the dog is cute.  But overall I’m severely underwhelmed. I have no idea who this girl is and why she would put her dog in a hoodie.

11. Vincent

Yawns in French.  Pretty much all of the same issues I had with Katherine’s come up here.  The cuts of everything are nice and the pieces look expensive but they look simple and boring in all black.  Once again the dog outfit outshines the girl’s, had he used that polka dot on the model in some capacity this would have been much more exciting.  I do give him points for going in a clear direction that I think Katherine was missing.

10. Jeffrey

Homeboy really had a rough start to the competition.  The bust-line is insane and there is barely any fabric to cover her boobs.  The skirt starts way to high and the top ruffle has too much fabric making her waist look larger than her hips.  But, like Vincent, he did give his girl a clear vibe.

9. Keith

Keith makes beautiful dresses. That’s all.  I’m glad that he was in the bottom for this because A) He didn’t even bother to make an outfit for the dog and B) I have seen this dress so many times before.  It is impeccably made though.

8. Mychael

I don’t have much to say because this is so boring I could cry.  The neck is interesting.  Can I go now? I’m gonna fall asleep.

7. Bradley

I want to love this look because I love Bradley as a person and the judges raved over this outfit.  However, I just can’t get behind it.  I love that he has a clear back story of his woman, a successful architect who loves interesting clothes, but it just looks messy.  The top is a bit tortured and the bottom is basic.  i can see where he was going but I am not there with him.  That little pup is my favorite, though.

6. Laura

People rave about this look but to me it is a solid middle of the pack design.  The fabric looks like an old couch fabric and the fur is super on the nose for the challenge.  The inside of the collar looks tortured as well.  The doggy sweater is cute, though.

5. Uli

I love Uli, and think she has been mightily screwed a few times throughout her Project Runway career.  But this time, she did not deserve the win.  This is a beautifully simple dress. Props for making a jacket, but the prints are doing all of the work for the dress. The dog’s outfit was probably the cutest of the day, but not enough to boost it into my top 3.

4. Bonnie

Extremely chic and modern.  The black dress is nice, but it is there to toally serve as a back drop to that amazing coat.  The varying lengths of the sleeves, hem, and scarf add interest to what could be a very boring look.  The fabric looks extremely expensive as well. I’m not sure what’s on the dog, but I see a connection between the dog and model’s outfit.

3. Kayne

When Kayne can hone the tackiness and extravagance he can really create some beautiful pieces.  This little number is so chic and wearable yet really gets the point across that this is fashion.  The print is gorgeous and pairing it with black and white really let it sing.  That coat is to die for, and he even lined it with the print.  My one issue? The weird black panel and kick pleat in the back.  Unflattering as hell.

2. Alison

Given who was in the top 3, Alison was robbed!  Everything about her model reads chic, cool, and sophisticated.  The jacket is such an odd length and cut, but it works with the rest of her outfit.  I love the use of different fabrics in the jacket as well.  The dress has some cut issues and flares out a bit too much for my liking, but it works well with the jacket and leggings.  I know who this girl is immediately and that’s the best thing to get from this challenge.

1. Robert

How was this not in the top 3!?  This is the only look where I truly would not change a thing.  The top is super cute with the bows, and he knew how to use the right fabric for it.  That print may look dated now but was all the rage in 2006, think Mean Girls or Legally Blonde. I’m glad that Robert went for a cropped pencil skirt, instead of a full one, to add some extra fashion.  The extra bling was just enough to make this a runway look.  And this girl would totally have a dog named Chanel.  Bravo Robert.

Judge’s Top 3: Uli, Alison, Bradley

Judge’s Bottom 3: Keith, Angela, Katherine

[burgermiester]

Fire Emblem Warriors Mini-Review

(My thoughts on Fire Emblem Warriors after ~15 hours beat the story mode, played a bit of history mode; still don’t know any Japanese)

I have to say I was not very hopeful about this game going into it.  Between a lot of surface level issues and a succession of absolutely abysmal PR from the game’s director, I had a feeling that this was a lazy cash grab for Koei. 

Thankfully, pretty much all my expectations have been surpassed.  In every way except possibly the visuals (I still don’t LOVE the art direction but it all looks a lot better in person than it did in screenshots and trailers to me) it’s an improvement over Hyrule Warriors.  History mode is Adventure mode without being forced to get S rank and grind items to progress; leveling up multiple characters is easier and less grindy since characters you field still level up even when you aren't controlling them directly; the annoying bosses that take forever to kill are gone, and generally speaking draw distance and frame rate is better, though that's to be expected as these things typically get better over time. 

Before I go any further with what I liked I have to stop to get into the elephant in the room and the biggest problem with the game: the roster.  It’s... bad.  I don't say that because it ignores a majority of the series; I say it because (1) it doesn't do a good job of representing the 3 games it tries to represent and (2) it comes with mechanical issues that hurt the game.  In the first case, I only really feel like they did a good job with the roster for Awakening.  It has the 3 main characters, 2 prominent supporting characters, and a fan favorite, and they have a pretty diverse weapon breakdown.  Fates, despite being almost half the roster, has only main characters (except for the notably absent Azura) with a couple of fan-favorites as NPCs only.  And I cant help but feel it was a big misstep to not include any hidden weapon users, both because hidden weapons are an iconic new aspect of Fates and because a few of the hidden weapon users are extremely popular.  Last, with only 3 characters it only feels like Shadow Dragon has a nod in the same way as Blazing Sword and Gaiden/Echoes.  It really doesn't feel like a featured game. 

It also really needs to be said: there are too many sword users.  When playing story mode I always felt like I had to field one of the 3 pegasus knights (the only lance users in the game) and either Frederick or Lissa (not Camilla since I didnt want to double up on fliers) and then needing my OC sword lord meant it was tough to find a good reason to field any of the mountain of other sword wielding characters, especially since most chapters only let me bring 4 people and that last slot I wanted to use for an archer or tome user.  I wish I had more axe and lance users to choose from and fewer sword users to chose from.  It makes the decision to make the OC sword users even more confounding.  It would have been so much better to have one of them use an axe and the other a lance. 

Despite having a lot to say about the roster issues, it actually isn't that critical or game ruining as some people fear.  Later on the OCs become effective against the armadillo-lizard-bear...things and the Falchion users are effective against wyverns and dragons, so there becomes a reason to use both an OC and a Falchion user.  Even though that doesn't make a niche for Corrin, Ryoma, and Xander (and presumably not Lyn or Celica either, but I haven't unlocked them yet) you still totally can use them and they can get the job done even if they are a tiny bit redundant. 

The most important thing about the game is that it plays great.  Ordering people around the map and switching between them is fantastic.  I talked in a previous post about how I didn't enjoy how the Peg Knights played (except for specials, all 3 have the same moveset) and while they still aren't my favorite, they did grow on me over time.  I haven’t really enjoyed playing as Camilla either, but every other character was a blast to play as.  This is by far the biggest percentage of playable characters I like playing as in a Warriors game, so I am very pleased about that.  On top of just being mechanically fun, the characters all have a ton of personality in their attacks and animations, and this is from someone who couldn't read or understand any of their words, the characters were all just amazingly fun to watch in action.  The only character I am iffy on is Xander in this regard.  He’s one of the more serious characters on the roster yet I kept laughing out loud at how ridiculous his magical flipping and spinning horse looked in most of his combos and his pair-up special; i just don’t think it was a good fit for his character, as fun as it is to look at.

I’m gonna end this off on questions/concerns/hopes for the English version.  I feel like I have a pretty accurate understanding of the game from the Japanese version but there are a few things I wonder about.  First, I really wasn't able to sink my teeth into the upgrade or weapon system.  Fortunately, it looks exactly like what they both were in Hyrule Warriors and it was a perfectly fine system there, so I expect it will be fine here.  Second, I have avoided all the English trailers for the game but I hear most of the characters from Awakening and Fates have been recast, with plenty of people saying they are pretty bad.  That’s kind of a bummer, I especially don’t know If I can get used to anyone other than Laura Bailey as Lucina.  So I hope I get used to all the new voices.  I also hope there's a way to turn off critical cut-in quotes. I liked them at first but they take just a bit too long and hearing the same thing over and over is just a little bit annoying when you use specials as often as you do.  Also, I hear that there's a lot of surprisingly great support conversations in the game.  I was expecting mostly silly fluff but people are saying there's some great ones, so I am feeling pretty hopeful.  Last, and this isn't really about the English version, but I really hope that Niles, Oboro, Owain, and Navarre are made playable as free DLC and aren't a part of the paid packs, both because it means more characters total and because I think it would be kind of a dick move on Koei’s part to put fan-favorite characters in the game but charging extra to play as them. 

I still want to play the game in English before I say this for certain, but I really do think this game is set to be one of the best Warriors games as well as my personal favorite of the series.  If you love Awakening and Fates and are at least neutral about Warriors, I am sure you are already pumped for this game; but even if you are a FE fan who doesn't love Fateswakening then as long as you don't hate them (and don't hate Warriors, of course) I really think you will be pleasantly surprised by this game.

[areiton]

Friday Favorites Fic Rec

This week!!! I read some really fantastic stuff this week, ngl. Here’s the highlights!

 Down in Flames by Standinginanicedress (Teen Wolf/Sterek)

This is a series and it checks off a few of my favorite things: werewolves are known, established relationship problems, and celebrity problems. The one hang up I had was the way the PR machine moved around author Derek, but that was more a ‘I work in this industry and this is not how things go’ than an actual issue. It’s fantastically done and the way the author writes a writer & the relationship issues of being with one was spot on. I loved the series and read all three in a day.

 [Sleep]Walking After You by reneafanel  (Teen Wolf/Sterek)

This made me giggle enough my husband kicked me out of bed because I kept waking him up. Stiles is adorably spastic and Derek is ridiculously creeper and the scene where Laura texts Stiles about the flowers made me cry I was laughing so hard.

Read it. Seriously.  

 A Hale for the Holidays by rlnerdgirl  (Teen Wolf/Sterek)

FAKE DATING! And CHRISTMAS! It was so fluffy it hurt, y’all. So. FUCKING. FLUFFY.

 The Blur of our Wandering by destimushi (Supernatural/Destiel) 

Ah, another fucking amazing story by @destimushi. I really liked the brokenness of Cas and Dean in this and the way it felt like I was there. Girl has a talent for building a scene and throwing so much emotion at you, you aren’t really sure what happened.

 Derek Hale’s No-Good, Very Bad Day by Mackem  (Teen Wolf/Sterek)

What did I love about this one—every. freaking. thing. Stiles is left at home while the pack trains and gets a frantic call from Scott about how pissy Derek is being and after he hands up, talks to Derek, who is hiding under Stiles’ bed. The sulky petulant snit that Derek is having is perfection and Stiles just rolling with his grumpy ass is fantastic and really, just read it because it’s lovely.

 Ok, that’s it for me, friends! What are y’all reading?