#but there was something like. like i said before: transcendental going on with that song specifically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamsister81 · 3 years

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"This is a song called Grace...and one day I was cleaning up my room, and I was thinking that, uh, um, my usual obsession with death and dying, and there can be a point where you really don't care, because there's someone..."-intro at St. Ann's with Gods and Monsters, March 13, 1992

"This is a song about...it's not about another dream, but it's about not feeling so bad about your own mortality when you have true love..."-intro at Sin-é, July 19/August 17, 1993

"This is for anybody here tonight, who's ever been stepped on, who's ever been fucked with, but it doesn't matter, because somewhere, there's sombody who has the guts to really love you...no matter what you are, no matter what job you hold...this is called Grace..."-intro at the Black Cat, Washington, DC, August 13, 1994

"Grace is an important quality. I wrote the song Grace when I had just found out that someone loved me, someone I wanted. Suddenly I was no longer afraid of death, of all the snares and confusion of my life. I've been very abused. By people around me. Especially in LA. I had so many spears in my heart of considerable weight that I carried around with me. And suddenly I looked down and realized that the spears were still there because I hadn't torn them out. And then I did. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the hands that had brought them there, not the heart that had accepted them. I think grace means so much. A grace, for example. 'God is good, we thank God for this food.' Blablabla. But you're also saying grace about a body or a parade. Grace means a lot in people. The ability to look ahead, to maintain warmth, to preserve the part that nourishes life. Or grace as in dancers. You need grace to dance. Besides, I love the name for a woman. Or a man. Yes, I would call my son Grace (joking). My children would love me forever."-Knust interview, September 13, 1994

"It's about not fearing death or fearing any of those, you know, countless slings and arrows that you suffer sometimes on this earth because somebody loves you. You're not afraid to go, you're not adraid to withstand what you need to withstand because there's a tremendous fuel that you feel regenerating inside because of somebody else's love for you. That's what Grace is about. And just about...life, just about sometimes life being so long. At the time I was anticipating leaving Los Angeles for New York so I was waiting to go, and I'm not afraid to go, I'm not afraid to die, I'm not afraid to go away from this place or leave any place, but it just goes so slow you know? And I had somebody who loved me in New York. A lot. And it was amazing, still is. (In British accent) Love, lovely love."-interview at the Pacific Club in Antwerp, Belgium, September 21, 1994

Regarding “Grace,” a song that is indicative of Buckley’s spiritual as well as artistic philosophy, Buckley states, “The song is about being released of the fear of being trod upon by people around you and suffering harm at the hands of others because of somebody loving you for real. You can achieve great heights of purity through somebody else’s love for you.”-Virtually Alternative Magazine no. 5, 1994

Buckley considers "grace" to be, "the quality about people that matters. Any hardship, any pitfall, any sling or arrow in your direction that you're forced to withstand, any abuse, or any thought of even growing old, you need that quality...grace in men is especially appealing, women are very graceful, but men usually are not, and I like it when I see it in them. It also carries the meaning of having an implication, like the beginning of something or the death, saying grace."-Art+Performance, October 28, 1994

What does grace mean to you?

Everything that the word carries. Grace is what matters in anything. Especially life, especially growth, tragedy, pain…love, death. About people. That’s what matters. That’s a quality I admire very greatly. It keeps you from reaching for the gun too quickly…it keeps you from destroying things too foolishly. And sort of keeps you alive. And it keeps you open for more understanding. You know, people say grace for dinner, 'God is great, God is good…’ eh, you know. But I see an invocation when I hear that word. And also, it’s like the sound of…

So saying the word grace, invokes a state of grace?

It could, yeah.

Say it now. Let’s see if we can...(laughs)

Hey, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me invoke a state of grace here on this room…(laughs)

But also, the song itself is just a eulogy to no one. About…I always describe it as not fearing anything, anyone, any man, any woman, any war, any gun, any sling or arrow aimed at your heart by other people because there is somebody finally who loves you, for real. And that you can achieve a real state of grace, through somebody else’s love in you, you know. And you’re totally out of fuel, and totally out of understanding…so I said it. It’s a song about my death, but not fearing it.-Much Music, October 28, 1994

"For me, it's a quality about people that matters most. In the face of adversity, in dealing with others, in love, dealing with enemies, in dealing with death. It's something that transcends, that carries people. Also, I decided the word. But it also...it fit to me because the song is about not fearing death anymore, or even fearing torture on earth because there's finally somebody who loves you for real. And sometimes you can achieve grace through somebody else's belief in you. And grace just sort of...I don't know, if I was writing a death letter, I felt that that was a grace as well, you know, saying grace...or for the dead on earth, or for somebody who's just very broken down. And just a last act of defiance, but also a beautiful prayer. That's what it could be, so I named it Grace."-Japanese interview, November, 1994

What does Grace mean to you?

It's not religious or mystical. It's very ordinary. That's the thing that makes people divine. That's a quality I appreciate in a person. Especially in a man because it is very rare."-L'indic, March/April, 1995

"Grace is basically a death prayer. Not something of sorrow, but of just casting away any fear of death. No relief will come you really just have to stew in your life until it's time to go, but sometimes somebody else's faith in you can do wonders."-MTV Europe interview, 1995

"I see many other colours of sacredness," he says. "And grace is a quality in people that I just enjoy. It's a very human quality."-Sydney Morning Herald: August 25, 1995

Grace, the title he has given to his first record is “mostly just a quality about people that I enjoy."

How does he recognize it?

“Ah… sort of... a transcendental soul in somebody's behaviour. Like a soul that's wise… Like somebody who doesn’t stoop to violence so quickly in the face of a problem, because they’re a little bit more potent of a soul. It’s rare,” he stresses.

Has he discovered many people with this quality?

"No!...that are purely like that? Everybody has it at one time or another, it's just like sadness, sometimes people have it, sometimes they don't, but it's something that I love, or, it's something that I need, desperately, because so much shit in your life can be so caustic, it's deadly, and you need to be steady in the way that you live, in order to have your thoughts together. Because basically, it's just fucking survival," he says, making one of his frequent cognitive leaps that leaves me half-baffled. "There's nothing else to it, so you have to be self sufficiently aware. And that's something you lose from time to time, but you have to get it back, otherwise you don't live very well. I think there's a graciousness about people, I especially like it in men, because it's totally rare."-Beat magazine, August 30, 1995

Grace is the title of your album. What does it mean to you?

"Grace there meaning a prayer like a death prayer - not being afraid of it, sitting totally immersed in trouble and all those crappy slings and arrows that come to you in regular life, and then someone begins to love you for real, and instead of wishing for death, even thinking about it, it's not a factor at all. Death meaning relief."-Rip It Up, February 1996

"Rise Up to Be" opened up with a cascade of notes like rain on a fretboard, then dove into a rugged melody with enough rocky crevices for a mountainside. Singing along, Jeff retitled it "Grace," inspired by the time he and Moore said their goodbyes at the airport on a rainy day. "The rain is falling and I believe my time has come/It reminds me of the pain I might leave behind," Jeff sang. With its images of a woman crying on his arm and of his contemplating mortality, the song equated love with pain, rebirth with death.-from Dream Brother

The explanation of this Buckley lyric was just as ambiguous as that for "Mojo Pin". The most common read was that he was spelling out his sorrow at being briefly separated from Moore, but Buckley loved to mess with his audience-at various times he'd introduce "Grace" as "a song about my death, but not fearing it" and, during an early Gods and Monsters show, as "(my) usual obsession of death and dying". While playing at Sin-E he'd declare it to be "a song about not feeling so bad about your own mortality when you have true love". Buckley seemed to have even less of a clue of its true meaning at a Chicago show in 1995 when he went into the following rant before playing the song. "Shit's happening now," he said. "It's all about now, now, now. Bigger, faster, sweatier, whiter, blacker, gracer." Lucas wrote both songs as "inspirational messages" for himself and Buckley.-from A Pure Drop (of course, the context of the rant isn't mentioned, and imo the "gracer" is merely a segue 😑🙄🙈)

#grace #jeff buckley #mylove #supremebeing #favorite #behind the song #read his quotes apter #the meaning is quite clear

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november-rising · 3 years

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(Note)Books of Love

I watched this week’s Motherland: Fort Salem and Taylor Hickerson’s version of Book of Love hit me. https://youtu.be/JcDAYyl9Y2Q.

I’ve been in a low headspace and this song sparked something. This is a R-O-U-G-H draft. It’s in the same verse of It’s Just So Simple and it’s not a sequel. This will be edited and filled out further later. NOTE: I hear Bucky’s singing voice as a softer - more timid Eliot Spencer/Christian Kane voice.

I hope you enjoy.

Even in the afternoon, it was sticky out, the heat was an affront to his very being. He despised the cold for too many reasons. But damn. This heat was pushing all around him.

There was the barely there breath of the kitchen oscillating fan that Ms. Grace kept on through the summer, throughout her cooking lessons with Bucky. Apparently, his knife skills were worth something - sometimes.

Then there was the prize, the low hum of the window AC unit in her living room; it was so reminiscent of Sam’s nephews’ in-home COVID school room.The perspiring sweet tea that was more sweet and ice than tea and lemon was placed in front of his new friend, Ms. Grace.

This was it.

Another peaceful day. Uneventful, boring even…

So many months and weeks. So many uneventful and boring weeks and months. And he was safe. Bucky was safe.

Louisiana became home to this Brooklyn boy. It fit him - he was allowed to fit into this strip of land, sea and wood. The docks, the people, the weeping willows drifting leisurely.

That’s how it started a week prior. Out on the veranda with Ms. Grace’s twin grandchildren she fostered along the way, Denise and Denziel murmured, humming along to the chords of their guitars.

Bucky smirked at the two while old memories (good old memories) flooded him with panging joy and a buzz through all limbs.

And that’s what it was like before Bucky got the courage to approach the siblings during their creative session.

The fan on it’s worn extension cord length stirred enough of a breeze that enticed everyone inside, pushing the AC unit air as best it could.

“Any new songs, cuz?” Another day. Another query.

Could Bucky be ready?

After eating Ms. Grace’s lunch of Gullah cuisine (Bucky added this term to his new notebook. The notebook Steve started for this whole new world), Bucky smiled. Her family allowed him to learn and be accepted into their haphazard family; Bucky felt embraced.

“Boy, just because we like you don’t mean you get to do whatever.”

“Ms. Grace, if I do whatever, without your permission, you can whip me good and hard.”

“Deal.”

Dishes cleaned and sorted, Bucky stood in the entryway of the living room. “What you got?”

Bucky entered the small, bright room, sitting across from the two young adults. He appreciated these two. These three…

Everyone.

He appreciated everyone and he would never be able to fully convey what this town means to him. These people were the world to him. That one person is the world to him.

Denise smirked. “You listened to everything we sent.”

“Of course.” And some songs were vulgar beyond recompense but he wouldn’t say anything about that.

“And?” they said in unison.

Without missing a beat, Bucky went to his rucksack, pulling out notebooks, scattering them across the wood floor.

The room went silent.

Denise smiled. “You think you can do this?”

Bucky’s fingers brushed against worn bounds, stark book fronts, and wrinkled leather. These were his life. This was it. This was everything laid out. Scrawled in confusion, paper taunt with cheap yet faded ink. Marred with blood and deception

Tilting his head up, Bucky responded, “Yes.”

___

The party had wound down as few folks meandered around the bonfire.

Warm, creaking and crickets.

Hypnotic and still. So very still.

Sam was there.

Of course he was.

Sam was as constant as those notebooks. He was…

Bucky watched as Denziel chatted with others and Denise strummed on her guitar.

The fire hues danced and melted.

Orange, yellow, red, smoke.

Looking across the fire, he was met with Sam’s eyes. A twinkle.

Bucky was scared. He was genuinely scared.

Ms. Grace taught him so much. Her grandkids pushed his fearful ass into practicing guitar and singing.

Rebecca used to say he could hold a tune. He had to do her justice. Bucky would make her proud.

“You ready to wrap up? You do still wanna go on that early morning run?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up. So enthralled in the chords dancing in his head, Bucky didn’t sense Sam’s voice reaching across, coming so close. “Can you wait a few more minutes?”

Sam ducked his head before looked back at Bucky. “I got a few minutes to spare.”

This was dumb.

Sam’s smile was enough.

If this was as good as Buck got, it was more than he deserved. “Thanks,”

Denziel strode by, patting his arm, “You ready?”

The rest blurred for him. Bucky rose, took the guitar, made the adjustments the twins taught him, and took a deep breath. There was no preamble. There was no introduction or pomp and circumstance.

This, right now, was the reason why Bucky decided to try.

With his sleeves rolled up as best they could, Bucky started to play the guitar.

___

Simplistic.

Earnest.

Thrumming with life.

Easy and open.

Vulnerable.

Sam was enthralled.

Bucky may have started and stopped once to play in front of the community and…

Chestnut strands illuminated to orange, yellow, red and smoke.

This was not hesitation.

“The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It’s full of charts and facts and figures

And instructions for dancing

But I

I love it when you read to me

And you

You can read me anything

The book of love has music in it

In fact that where’s music comes from

Some of it’s just transcendental

Some of it’s just really dumb

But

I love it when you sing to me”

Sam couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to look away as Bucky leaned back over the guitar, crooning gently.

Ms. Grace, suddenly poised in the fold out chair next to him, nudged Sam. “Open it.”

A rucksack was by Sam’s feet. He knew that was James’. “Ma’am. Where did you get this?”

Sam knew. He had to play the game. He had to see what Bucky wanted him to see.

His books. Worn bounds, stark book fronts, and wrinkled leather. These were his life.

Sam loved reading.

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redhoodedwolf · 4 years

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A Week-ish of Sterek Fics

Hello all! So I recently accidentally fell back into my AO3 bookmarks and have fallen down a rabbit (fox? eh?) hole that leaves me entirely unproductive and sleep deprived but full of feels, so I thought I’d share all of the fics that I’ve rerereread thus far in the last week (it’s over 75 guys) (since friday 😬). Each has the fic name and description, length, and year pub/finished because it makes me feel old. Also all of these are complete because I am weak and cannot handle WIPs.

Note: I’m not adding any tags to the descriptions, so make sure to read the tags and ratings on each fic first before reading!!!

Teaching Derek How to Text (and Other Shenanigans) by neilwrites | 9K | 2018

yo derek Who’s dying

---

I see your 'Derek doesn't have a phone' line and raise you 'Derek has a phone, he and Stiles text all the fucking time.'

The Hoodie by ladiekatie | 1.7K | 2017

“You shouldn’t be able to see me. What are you?” The guy in the hoodie says, the ball of energy grows hotter under Derek’s chin.

or the one where Derek is just trying to talk to the guy at the back of the subway.

Nothing You Could Say by SylvieW | 13K | 2016

Stiles’ second year of college is not working out as he planned. He rarely sees Scott, his job is exhausting, and to get home after his shift, he has to walk at three in the morning. Nearly getting mugged is the icing on the cake, but luckily a gruff stranger is there to rescue him. But now Stiles can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s not alone in the dark.

Old Traditions, Werewolf Edition by Footloose | 3.6K | 2014

Stiles does not work his Omega ass off to attract frat boy Alphas. Absolutely not. He's at college to get his degree. If he's crushing on an Alpha who never crosses the lines of propriety, well, no one needs to know, right?

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup | 14K | 2016

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

third time's the charm by stilinski | 4.9K | 2016

Sure, Stiles has a mark on his chest that belies the depth of his feelings, but it's not something anyone can see unless he decides to show it, or unless werewolves suddenly have x-ray vision.

Which—worrying. And probably-definitely-likely a possibility – if it was to manifest anywhere, Beacon Hills would be top of the list.

Stiles almost turns around there and then to ask Scott how his visual acuity is but is stopped by the teenager at the register finally looking up long enough to spot Derek. Stiles watches her mouth fall open and her expression—studiously blank but with a faint flush rising in her cheeks—is one Stiles knows far too well, particularly when faced with Derek in all his snug-fitting-jeans, v-neck-wearing, canvas-jacketed glory.

Stiles is pretty sure he invented that expression.

Ukochany by VincentMeoblinn| 34K | 2016

Derek comes home to find a mail order husband and two amused betas waiting for him. When he realizes their prank was far from harmless he ends up saddled with a husband who barely speaks English but insists Derek is the love of his life. He's also determined to win him over.

only if for a night by stilinskisparkles | 3.2K | 2016

“I’m Stiles,” he says breathlessly.

“Derek.”

“Derek, hi, do you—”

Derek doesn’t let him finish, kisses the words right out of his mouth.

Hypothetically by alisvolatpropiis | 6.6K | 2015

Stiles holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, its orange-yellow light reflected infinitely across the vast, calm ocean. As utterly stunning as the sunset over the Pacific is, especially while floating leisurely on a surfboard a few hundred feet from shore, it’s a mere backdrop that pales in comparison to who he’s looking at.

Derek Hale, whose eyes are their own oceans that Stiles feels like he’s been floating on since the first time they met. The older man’s eyes are as ever-changing and colorful as the sea they’ve spent the day on, a palette of greens and blues filigreed with gold around the pupils. And if that weren’t enough, the rest of Derek is also transcendentally exquisite: high, arching cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, although that particular perfection is a bit obscured these days by his ever-thickening beard, night-black like his hair, nearly shoulder-length but almost always knotted in a messy bun at the crown of his head.

sincerely, derek by stilinskisparkles | 8.1K | 2016

September, 2009

Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead.

Please write back. Love from Derek.

Pancakes and Murder by Amethyst Shard (AmethystShard) | 14K | 2012

Stiles' life has been a roller-coaster filled with awesome highs and terrifying drops ever since his best friend Scott got bit by a werewolf. The ride hits a bump when a dead body turns up at the Hale house (again) and Derek's only alibi is Stiles. Which would be fine, except that Stiles' dad is the sheriff and has no idea his son has been hanging out with the former fugitive. Awkward.

The Witching Hour by MellytheHun | 8.2K | 2016

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs (Series) by MellytheHun | 11K | 4 Works | 2016

This series started with this Tumblr prompt, "it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au

Stiles is walking home when he's stalked by a dangerous stranger and an even more dangerous stranger comes to his rescue.

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill | 32K | 2013

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

You are the Moon by skoosiepants | 10K | 2012

Stuff Stiles doesn’t like to deal with first thing: hot, moist dog breath in his face, a cuddly werewolf creepifying his perfectly normal morning wood with shades of bestiality, and his dad holding his service revolver up against the skull of his bedmate, never mind the fact that his bedmate could possibly be a vicious unhinged rogue omega.

Baby, you should stick around by ElisAttack | 9.5K | 2016

Derek's driving along a stretch of highway when an unusual sight makes him slow down, the engine of his old pickup rattling in protest.

There's a kid standing by the side of the road.

It's the middle of nowhere, the goddamn apocalypse, and this kid is standing by the side of the road with his thumb pointed skyward. Like he's playing at being a hitchhiker.

Or the one where Stiles thinks he's all alone in a post-apocalyptic world, until he meets Derek.

Don’t Be Anything But Okay by skoosiepants | 4.8K | 2016

“Oh my god.”

Ben pops open the car door and says, “Please don’t embarrass me, Dad.”

Stiles flaps a hand, still staring at the magnificent sight before him. There are glistening arm muscles and a sweaty tank top and then the vision bends over and holy god. He has to look away; it’s too much to take in all at once, he might swoon.

OR-

Stiles has a teenager and Derek has a plant nursery.

covalent bonds (Series) by HalfFizzbin | 9.2K | 3 Works | 2015

Derek's a hot nerd. Stiles is a nerdy jock. A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES.

Disappear Here by AgnesBlue | 28K | 2016

Stiles was quiet. “What?” Derek said again. “My first heat is coming up soon,” Stiles said at last. Derek closed his eyes, disinterested. He knew where Stiles was going with this. “I was thinking…hoping, really,” Stiles said. “Maybe you could stay with me during that time.”

AU in which wounded in a fire that killed off his entire family, Derek wants nothing more than to be left alone as he finishes off his senior year in high school. That all changes when omega Stiles Stilinski asks him to help him through his first heat.

Money Isn't Everything by TroubleIWant | 6.3K | 2015

Stiles slurps at the dregs of his iced hazelnut latté, pretending he doesn’t need a refill just yet. Supporting your local business is great and all, but Isaac charging $5 for a coffee with syrup is highway robbery. He’s already cut his expenses down to the bare minimum, and splurging for foofy drinks is not in the budget. Except that he can’t really help himself: black coffee is plain gross. Maybe I should plan on marrying rich, he thinks darkly.

Or,

Stiles has a huge crush on the super-hot guy he always sees at Isaac's coffee shop, but when he finds out that they guy's an unemployed orphan he has to decide if the difference in their financial situations is a deal-breaker, or just a bump on the path to true love.

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock | 21K | 2014

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

you and me (and my best friend) by trilliastra | 1.5K | 2016

“Come on, I shouldn’t be the only one having orgasms. Let me help you out.”

“Uh –” someone clears their throat and Derek jumps, startled, hits his elbow on the wall and curses, “am I interrupting something?” Stiles asks, cheeks red.

Derek looks up, sighing. Of all the people working in this damn school, Stiles had to be the one to catch him and Erica talking about sex. It’s just Derek’s luck. He spills juice on his pants? Stiles walks into the classroom; Laura starts yelling at him about something that happened when they were kids? Stiles is right behind them, waiting for his coffee; Boyd accidentally throws a ball at his face? Stiles is at the E.R. when Derek gets there with a swollen face and a broken nose.

The universe hates him.

Easy Alpha by interropunct | 4.6K | 2012

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

Body Language by LadyMerlin | 2.3K | 2016

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates' name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn't have that kind of patience.

chantes une nouvelle chanson pour moi by pr1nc3ssp34ch (dallisons) | 13K | 2013

Stiles Stilinski has been at Hogwarts since his first year, okay. That's six years of experience. He knows how Hogwarts works, how it operates. He's not quite an expert or anything, but he's pretty damn sure he knows this school.

So why the hell have they waited like a million years to start taking transfer students?

And why is he the only one who can't get a French date?

C’était Salement Romantique by Swing Set in December (swing_set13) | 2.2K | 2015

The Triwizard tournament is really about fostering wizarding relations. Ask anyone. Just not Stiles, he’s busy French kissing Derek.

Hogwarts really should teach some linguistic classes.

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19K | 2016

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

All that once was, remains. by countrygirlsfun | 8.8K | 2016

Life is only a long list of constants.

Being a part of a royal family, being a prince, has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths.

Wherein Derek finds himself in love with a stable boy who is more than he seems.

Driver's Education by arrowofcarnations | 9.2K | 2014

This is the moment he realizes he can never have Derek Hale – that he was stupid to ever think he could. Maybe their moms made them hang out when they were little and maybe they’ve managed to get along these past few weeks, but they’re too different. Derek’s cool, he plays a million sports, he drives a Camaro, he’s friends with Jackson. Stiles doesn’t fit into the equation and he never will.

Letters by ericaismeg | 8.9K | 2014

“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

***

OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to "confess his love" for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.

We're One of a Kind (Like Dip Da Dip Da Dip Do Whap De Dobby Do) by orphan_account | 3.5K | 2012

Derek is your classic greaser—with a leather jacket, a hot rod, a hot bike, and a duck butt. Genim “Stiles” Stilinski a total fream—he’s too cool to be a poindexter but he’s so far from a cat that Derek almost feels bad for him. All that’s missing in this love story is some oddly perfectly timed musical numbers.

do it for our country by HalfFizzbin | 936 | 2012

In which Derek tries to play it cool but Stiles is totally hep to his jive.

Fast Times At Clairemont High by MonsieurBlueSky (MyChemicalRachel) | 6.9K | 2016

Stiles is stoked when he's chosen for an undercover operation to take down a drug ring. He's less stoked when he discovers that he'll be posing as a seventeen year old student at the High School where Derek teaches.

It's Too Early For This by thepsychicclam | 4.9K | 2016

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

A Tentative Truce by Inell | 8.5K | 2016

Stiles and Derek have a long standing rivalry that has extended beyond the Beacon Hills High School theater department to every other area of their high school lives. With the announcement of the winter production, their competitiveness has to be set to the side so the musical can be successful. With a tentative truce in place, Stiles unable to ignore his growing infatuation for his co-star.

we keep living anyway by bistiles (alis) | 10K | 2015

“Oh, damn, my manners. What an example I’m setting, am I right? I’m Stiles Stilinski, but call me Stiles, please,” Stilinski extended his hand for Derek to shake, and Derek took it, feeling the solid grip and the long fingers around his own hand. For some reason, he blushed on the spot.

“Derek. Derek Hale. Call me just Derek,” He answered, still holding Stiles’ hand in his.

By the look on Stiles’ face, he felt much the same as what Derek was feeling, whatever that unnamed reaction was.

“And this little barnacle attached to me,” Stiles continued, letting go of Derek and flushing pink, “is Leigh.”

Stiles is struggling to raise his only child all alone, while dealing with financial problems, a new job, and Adrian Harris, the worst boss in the world.

But then he meets Derek Hale, a dreamy co-workers, and what is a terrible situation becomes considerably less grim, when he has Derek by his side.

Don't Judge a Derek By His Cover by captaintinymite (augopher) | 4.5K | 2015

Stiles doesn't care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School's resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one's judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say...never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam | 8.1K | 2014

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

aka a kinda sorta serendipity au

should the pillars of memory topple out of my reach by bleep0bleep | 4.3K | 2015

If Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say that look in Derek's eyes is adoring, but he does know better, and also amnesiac Derek thinks they’re married. Which is the only fact he hasn’t questioned so far, which is the weirdest thing.

Just High School by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 4.5K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been dating for some time.

The only thing is, nobody else really knows.

Tis The Season Baristas Fear The Most by stilinskisparkles | 5.4K | 2012

Scott is hands down the worst barista Derek has ever hired. But it's Christmas and apparently that means something to some people.

Mind Reading Can Be Such a Pain in the A** (Series) by Fanhag102 | 21K | 2 Works | 2015

Derek Hale can read minds. If he could have chosen a mutant power for himself instead of being given one by random, genetic happenstance it's safe to say mind-reading would not have been his 1st, 2nd, or even 96th choice.

Maybe if he'd gotten the power of invisibility he wouldn't be sitting in a senior Economics class next to a hyperactive kid with a buzz cut who won’t stop thinking about dicks.

A Criminal and His Lucky Charm by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 5.9K | 2015

Please forgive yourself.

For what?

For allowing yourself to let someone in. For letting me love you. I didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t your fault. Derek, please, just do it. Please— please don’t drag this out.

Derek Hale valued Stiles above everyone—everything. And Stiles betrayed that. In the end, he figured if he had to die, dying in Derek’s arms wasn’t so bad. He could at least have that.

the things you said when we were the happiest we’ve ever been by foxerica (ericaismeg) | 4.8K | 2015

Derek and Stiles meet again at their high school reunion.

From Dirty Paws by Surreal | 9.9K | 2014

Stiles finds a wolf in the woods. Well, it's more like the wolf finds him. Either way, he's happy to have a new friend in his otherwise boring social circle.

flawless by bibliosexual | 4.9K | 2015

“I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person . . . All bets are off, is all I'm saying."

It's not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, if," he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj | 18K | 2015

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Baseball Pants by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven) | 2.8K | 2015

Scott shows Stiles a picture of the new pitcher for the Dodgers, and Stiles is suddenly an avid Dodgers fan.

While You Were(n't Quite) Sleeping by mikkimouse | 13K | 2015

Scott’s mom, Melissa, had given Stiles the basics on Derek’s condition when he’d first come over here a month ago. Derek had been here six years, the only survivor of a horrific house fire that had killed the rest of his family. It had left him burned, half his face puckered with scars, and he’d been in a catatonic state the entire time. Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful that would be, being trapped in your own body for years on end, all alone.

Stiles had an inkling of how much being alone sucked, anyway.

(An AU in which Derek is the one who was trapped in the fire, and then in the hospital, based on a set of pictures from littlecofiegirl.)

dhale25 by ericaismeg | 8.1K | 2014

Derek Hale is an actor in Los Angeles, Stiles is a fanboy in Toronto. When Derek posts his Snap Chat username on Twitter, inviting people to add him, Stiles gets brave and adds him.

They develop a snapping relationship, and it gets intense.

I Settle for Long Distance Calls by iamursforevrmre | 4.3K | 2014

Derek is the guy who Stiles met on some random band page on MySpace because Derek made a ridiculously hilarious comment and with a spurt of confidence, Stiles had messaged him to tell him just how hilarious it was and they got to talking. Derek is the guy that made a FaceBook account just to talk to Stiles on the messenger so they could talk more when MySpace was slowly dying out. Derek is the guy that changed his text message plan to unlimited when he finally sent Stiles his cell phone number. Derek is the guy that has been on the phone with Stiles at any and all hours through the day.

And Derek is the guy that Stiles is in love with.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin | 15K | 2015

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Coaches Cupcake Coffee House by ChildOfTheRevolution | 4.8K | 2013

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

Gladiator AU ( Series) by HaleHole (SweetFanfics) | 9.9K | 2 Works | 2013

He looks up at the door and waits. He hopes that whoever it is, they will be go easy on him. Werewolf he might be, with superhuman healing, but that does not mean that he will not be sore the next day. And he is scheduled for a fight.

Let it be someone easy to please, Derek hopes. Someone who will be quick to take their pleasure and even quicker to leave. He keeps hoping this as the door is pushed open. A voice murmurs a quick set of instructions to whoever has hired him for this session. It is cut off half way through by a familiar, impatient voice that makes Derek strain against his bonds. -- Rome based, Gladiator AU

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain | 35K | 2013

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Theory of Overprotective Canines by rosepetals42 | 11K | 2015

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Hot for Teacher('s Aide) by linksofmemories_archive | 8K | 2013

“He invited you to his apartment.”

“To do a lesson plan.”

“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

The healing touch by devilscut | 96K | 2015

Stiles loses his temper with the rest of the pack when they all make excuses not to volunteer to help their Alpha. Deaton has instructed that for the next 24 hours Derek can't use his hands after he seriously injures them in a magical entrapment. Seeing the emotional hurt that Derek's selfish pack has inflicted on him when they argue and try to get out of it, Stiles volunteers to stay and then proceeds to give the rest of them a verbal ass-kicking. He then takes care of his friend, the Alpha, Derek Hale, while trying to work out what his feelings are towards the werewolf.

Quit Dragon Me Around (Seies) by WonderWolf | 17K | 3 Works | 2015

Stiles makes the mistake of taking Derek’s sword and now the grumpy werewolf seems determined to stop him from stealing and landing himself in jail.

Stiles is not pleased. He’s also starving.

(Or the one in which Derek has good intentions, but little understanding of how Dragon biology works. He just wants the cute mole-speckled kid to be safe). -----

“Five meals, Scott. Derek Hale has stopped me from eating five meals. I can’t believe he’s really trying to kill me over stealing his sword. That’s so petty of him. It isn’t like I meant to steal it,” Stiles complains.

“You kind of did mean to, dude,” Scott adds unhelpfully.

“But you don’t understand, Scott. It-”

“Just smelled so good? I know, you’ve said that like fifty times over the past two weeks,” Scott says.

“This is the equivalent of him stealing my lunch money, right? Thanks to him, I didn’t have a meal this week. Or last week! He’s a bully, is what he is. A nice smelling, douchebag of a bully.”

You'll See Me Again by matildajones | 10K | 2015

Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.

Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn't seem to care that Derek's a prince or that he's a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it's not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.

Thousand by ericaismeg | 4.2K | 2014

“Seriously, Erica, I could tell him a thousand times in a thousand ways and he's never going to understand what I mean.”

“I thought I told you to spell it out to him,” Erica says. “Derek's has trust issues. I told you this would be difficult.”

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf | 11K | 2015

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

The Wolf that whispered into Stiles' Heart by ElStark | 9.9K | 2015

Basically the Union of the prompts:

Mute!Stiles + Wolf!Derek + Soulmates/Mates AU

“Don’t you have a pack?” Stiles asks him –by then he had discovered that the wolf was in fact a male wolf –“I mean, wolves move in packs, right? Lone wolves don’t make it on their own. I read it yesterday.” He says while they’re both sprawled on the fallen leaves in Stiles’ secret-thinking spot in the woods. Derek licks his face, and Stiles laughs. “Is that your way to tell me that I’m your pack?” Derek licks him again on the nose, making the boy’s face scrunch up, “Ugh. Gross, dude!” he wipes his drool covered face with his sleeve and then gives the wolf a pointed look, “I’m not a wolf, you should have noticed, you know, I don’t exactly have fur and I don’t growl and I don’t have glowing eyes…” He says leaning in to look them closer, “Are you even supposed to have those kind of eyes? I couldn’t find anything about wolves and glowing eyes on the internet..” The wolf snorts.

Aftermath by GhostwithShotgun | 11K | 2015

Stiles suffers from PTSD and insomnia after the events with the nogitsune. He has nightmares, gets at most one hour of sleep every night and has daily panic attacks. He tries his best to hide it because they all have their own troubles and he doesn't want to burden his friends further.

Meanwhile, Derek has made a habit out of checking all pack members every night to make sure they're alright.

Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit | 18K | 2015

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

It's a Schlong Story by floatingstark | 33K | 2015

"Do you like him?"

"Of course I do, he’s great!"

"Then what is the fucking problem?"

"My dick!"

-or-

Ex-Porn Star Derek Hale has a lot of issues but Ice Cream Parlor Owner Stiles Stilinski is not one of them.

Bad Dog Bakery and Café by Boom | 27K | 2015

Stiles saves an Omega from wolfsbane poisoning. Said Omega now won't leave Stiles alone. Stiles doesn't really have a problem with this.

Beat The Blues by lilpeas | 2.9K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been childhood friends since the sandpit. When Talia realises Stiles is in love with Derek, she knows Derek has to stop seeing him: Derek’s a werewolf and Stiles is human. It can’t be.

But things never go according to plan.

Red Light's Already Off by orphan_account | 3.3K | 2015

Stiles isn't a hooker. He just plays one on TV.

Noteworthy Observations by LadyDrace | 3.7K | 2015

In which Derek recieves complimentary notes in his locker from a secret admirer, and though it turns out they weren't actually for him, things turn out pretty well in the end.

One Hale of a Sandwich by whatthehale | 10K | 2014

Stiles in bed isn’t really something Derek should be thinking about.

Ever.

Because the person who normally picks Lily up from school? Is Scott.

Lily’s other parent. And Stiles’s partner.

Not to mention the entire source of Derek’s current misery.

AKA, the one in which Derek thinks Scott and Stiles are in a relationship and that they want to threesome with Derek. Spoiler Alert? They aren't and they don't.

Choice by Omni | 8.6K | 2015

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings.

Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't.

(Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

Emergency Love by Kedreeva | 13K | 2012

Wherein Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a paramedic, and they just keep meeting.

gave your smile to me by Sarageek16 | 4.7K | 2013

In which Stiles is a hooker (but not really), Derek wants to feed his skinny little body, and there is soup. Not necessarily in that order.

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek fic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fic rec list

103 notes · View notes

kneipho · 4 years

Text

Submission: @mantrabay

A Little Known Shortcut.

Wandering the roads. It has me under a spell.

Even when prickly brambles

scrape my eyelids or those bony ankles are being twisted by tooth like stones. The angular sort clustered mischievously among the green shoots that litter every footpath.

They lie in wait, in ambush.

It goes with the territory for this seasoned footman.

Meandering landscapes are house and home to the spiral lanes and clover clad hills that are rife in my area.

Their rustic heritage sometimes sacrificed to the orphanage of malleable motives.

Crop farmers obsessed with bountiful harvest.

A restless developer pushing the limits of an urban jungle.

Fellow traveller in league with fugitives from the cockpit.

The pressure cooker of modern life.

The town dweller with split loyalties who clings to the tumult of the city but hankers after some rural idyll.

Culprits one and all.

A lair from the hubbub.

Dwellings of the quaintest kind huddle together like dots in a matrix separated only by a minuscule space.

The more alluring aspects of tradition have been preserved.

Among these are shortcuts or bypasses.

Those sequestered passages that shave miles off for the perennial rambler or clueless hitchhiker.

The eye becomes a lense to all these

things hidden or supposedly hidden.

Human vision as sensor to magic trails.

Those tucked away secret spots beloved of local wiseacres.

They festoon the sprawling countryside at random.

My name is Eric Spring.

Anthea, my partner a transcendental meditation teacher retired early at an early age.

Her withdrawal from work was never meant to be permanent.

A final decision hinged on Anthea’s ability to purge that fiendish veil of sadness that had been shadowing her.

There were several obstacles in her path but they weren’t insurmountable.

Thoughts of Anthea in her halcyon days haunted me.

Mental pictures of a vibrant woman imbued with passion.

Poignant evocative heart-tugging images.

Bar excursions into town my station is that of Anthea’s carer.

This eternally stoic woman is mindful of her mental boundaries and the abyss concealed by each of them.

But she is not prone to self-hate or abuse. The more lethal plagues of the psyche hadn’t yet impacted on her.

Anthea was groping for exits but hadn’t found the signs.

She remains housebound as I embark on those age defying treks into town.

We keep in touch by mobile phone.

A very angelic sensitive looking person is she.

Reminiscent of a Sunday Times editor.

The accent filters every noun and stresses every nuance.

Like the sounds from an early morning orchard.

Anthea’s job became monotonous and her other pursuits painting and writing fled without trace.

A budding artist’s most dreaded syndromes struck.

Writer’s block. Artistic vacuum.

The wellspring of her imagination now devoid of those inspiring flashes that sustain creative impulse.

She had few outlets bar my care and a lady called Fidelma who had the edge on me with regard to local knowledge. I longed to hear Anthea’s voice on my device.

Her hypnotic voice bridges gaps.

You feel close even when speaking to her from a distance.

I love the walks and savouring all those pivot points of folklore.

I pride myself on my intimate knowledge of every branch strewn rivulet, stream and layered rock formation.

My links to the environment are almost erotic as I crave it’s sensual touch.

At times I enter a tranquil zone where the shutters are drawn.

Just myself and all those habitats.

“Hello Eric? Lost in thought again.

How is anthea these days?

I spoke to her over the phone a few days ago.

I sometimes drop in on her when you are out.”

Fidelma speaking with that chirping red robin voice of hers.

She had this penchant for suddenly appearing like an archaeological site.

And she vanished just as quickly leaving the person she spoke to scrambling to process her asides and insights before they disappeared.

Neighbour, friend, root and branch archivist whose grasp of detail was legendary.

“She seems to be coping.” I said.

“Glad to hear that. Maybe I can pay a flying visit some time soon.

But aren’t you a foolish man to be imposing all those Olympic Marathons on yourself?”

Fidelma about to share one of her treasured nuggets.

“I love walking but any tips?”

Spring enquired naively as events soon demonstrated.

“There’s a shortcut…..a little known shortcut.

People in the know recommend it though I have never actually used it myself.

Maybe I will one day.

See, it’s on the right hand side up the road there.

Think it might be useful when you want to get home in a hurry.” She concluded.

Fidelma in advanced middle age was still sprightly and youthful in her ways.

I missed a text from anthea and Fidelma noticed.

“Yes. I have one of those gadgets too.

Keeps me connected.

Took me awhile to master it.

Wish there was a shortcut for that.

But I’ll best be on my way.

Take good care whatever the route.”

As always having spoken to Fidelma I wondered about in a trance.

Another colourful aspect of Fidelma’s personality was her “Banana Skin Syndrome.”

She could lose her balance betimes when enthusing about a topic or when she stumbled on an area that fascinated her.

The feet were a little wobbly.

All this against her philosophy about how interconnected everything is.

The mind is an antenna sending out signals to others was a frequent broadside of hers.

Even when Fidelma said very little she always had this magnetic effect on others.

Those terse one liners could trigger an avalanche in the mind.

Her thin phrases were always shrouded in a well crafted poetic meter.

It was in the tone, gestures and body language.

Those beady yet expressive eyes scanning her environment like a radar screen.

A cascade of images and sound bytes ensued when she left.

Several hours passed as my mind was in overdrive like a central processing unit.

I heard this inner voice telling me to explore this “shortcut.”

Having texted Anthea I then proceeded to this offshoot of a lane.

It was going to lighten the journey of this slope and pavement plodder.

Off I went down this quaint country shortcut.

Nothing out of the ordinary to begin with until Anthea rang.

“Gnawing feeling of sadness.

My mind is a dark blue canvass at the moment.”

Her lilting twang mingling with the song birds at the start of my downward journey.

I sensed this was urgent and started to walk quickly.

That’s when problems arose.

Just a plain country passage with a primarily flat surface at this point.

There were houses on each side and some weeds strewn and partially mangled, turned to mulch by wild and indiscriminate boots.

Strange feelings welled up within me as I felt like a geyser at yellowstone.

The puff and splutter of tractors in nearby fields as furrows, the epicenter of future yields were turned.

Scarecrows were strategically perched in the meadow behind the right hand hedge to ward off some menace or other.

Something told me to relate my surroundings to Anthea.

If only to divert attention from an impending gloom.

Those barely audible inner prompts again.

“Eric, I don’t want to pressurise you but at the moment I feel this dark cloud.”

Eric paused.

It then occurred to me that I was engulfed by dark foreboding clouds in tandem with a rising rainbow like haze.

As Anthea continued her disorders seemed to be complemented by external threats of rain intermingled with sunshine.

“I feel, Eric there is a radiance trying to break through.

Just to see you … your presence is a light which I could focus on.”

Then I realised that speed was of the essence.

That’s when I could have panicked.

Anthea’s voice seemed louder, but also more lyrical as I realised this obscure

overlooked route could have done with some restoration!

Tufts of grass oozing slime.

Mounds of mud with pockets of oil stained water.

The briars were a shock team that endangered every part of the human body.

I was conveying all this to anthea as I was trying to dash at my normal pace.

Oddly Anthea’s tone of desperation started to dip.

But she did appear less tense as I told her this story over the phone.

“Someone told me this is a shortcut.”

Eric said gingerly.

“Who was that ? Anthea asked.

“Fidelma. We met on the main road just a short while ago.” I responded.

“You know her a bit better than I do.”

Anthea observed. “She’s going to call over one of these days I’m sure.”

By now Anthea, initially nervous was mellowing as I continued with my frantic running … and staggering commentary!

She didn’t have had much to excite her over the last five years.

But I had to be careful lest those dark brooding phases returned.

Like a roving reporter I regaled her with lurid descriptions of limp green shrubs, tea brown leaves shredded on fissured rocks, juice dripping blackberry bushes with foraging earwigs seeking shelter from the sun.

But here I was almost knee deep in tangled foliage while keeping the love of my life up to speed!

The labyrinthine outcrops and mock craters were all included.

Suddenly misfortune struck without warning.

I nearly sprained my leg as I fell face down on a grassy patch.

Sprawled awkwardly across this surface my phone went flying but I managed to catch it.

“Eric, are you ok?

I don’t mean to be a burden.

Will I get someone to meet you at the end of this lane or short cut.”

Anthea again.

“I’m fine, Anthea.”

Eric said before slowly rising.

I kept detailing my observations and Anthea was reacting positively.

But I made it eventually with the sounds of the road as guide.

The temperatures continued to rise causing perspiration.

Peering thru the maze of entwined growths I saw … Fidelma.

“Where did you spring from?” Eric punning his own name.

“Fidelma …you fell too.” A question that might have appeared tactless.

She was getting up, having fallen when taking her bearings it seems.

“Fidelma …. thanks but no thanks.

The shortcut.” I said.

“You are shivering.” She observed.

“I am. Spring responded.

“Got to get to Anthea because she might be in need of help.” Spring continued.

We both headed for my house as quickly as possible.

But it wasn’t far.

I texted Anthea and she answered by saying she had every reason to speak to me.

One wondered what that might be.

My face whitened.

Fidelma and I soon reached the house where I lived.

Eric pressed the doorbell as his heart pounded.

The door opened suddenly and we couldn’t believe what we saw.

“Anthea, is that you?

I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”

I said.

Fidelma and I were perplexed to say the least.

“It’s early days yet but those locusts of darkness hopping around in my head maybe dwindling.

Those creative juices returned when I sensed your anxiety down the lane because I didn’t want two sick people in this house.

But you brought splashes of vivid colour into my drawing room.

I could almost smell the rustic fragrance of every wilting petal and the creaking of every twig.

You set a whole cycle in train.”

Anthea then showed me two items she was working on.

“I have started a rough sketch of the lane you detailed and a short story.

There’s been a sea change.” She said.

“Oh I wonder what I’ll call this sketch and that short story?

Any ideas?” Anthea enquired.

Fidelma and I looked at each other and spoke almost in unison.

“I think we both have a fair idea what they both might be called.

Your story included.”

A little known shortcut indeed!

Photograph and short story mantrabay copyright protected

#mantrabay #submission sunday #writers on tumblr #photographers on tumblr #written word #photography #submission #other #short story #fiction #original photography #a little known shortcut

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mycannibalromance · 3 years

Note

1, 2, 45 + 50 for the mountain goats asks?

1. Favourite song?

Ooooh this is the hardest question!! I'm tempted to say 'Prowl Great Cain' since I relate to it so intimately but I also want to choose something different. Maybe 'Alpha Rats Nest'? ORRRR 'Before I Got There'; I listened to Dark in Here at midnight the night it came out and that song decimated me.

2. Favourite album?

LORD their discography is so big these 'favourite' questions suck. I adore The Sunset Tree because it's a phenomenal piece of art and my experiences parallel JD's pretty closely which makes it very sentimental. I also love Transcendental Youth. My all time favourite though, at least for the time being, is probably Songs for Pierre Chuvin.

45. Got a highly specific song interpretation you would like to share?

I was gonna say no but that's a lie actually - 'Minnesota' is a monologue directed at an ailing dutch grandmother from her grandchild and it is about displacement and mourning. If you want more detail send another ask I don't want to turn this one into an essay fksmfjskfn

50. Rant about a song or album or blog post or whatever that you think is great or interesting or maybe extremely terrible. I don't care, just pick something Goats-related you have thoughts on and go ham.

OKAAAAY GIRLIES looks like this post is gonna be an essay anyways! I adore all of the unreleased/leaked music - granted, I love all of their music, but I digress - especially Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg. I'm not gonna get into the morality of leaking work against the artist's will because Yeah That's Not Great but the album itself is an absolute DELIGHT and I miss it on Spotify all of the time. Speaking of unreleased music, From TG&Y (which is officially unreleased but was posted by JD so not technically leaked!!) is quite possibly the most song of all time. When John said, "This is a song about how you cope with what you got to cope with when you're sixteen years old and you're not an abuse survivor yet because you're in the middle of surviving and it's called 'From TG&Y'." as a means of introducing it at a show in 2013. Yeah.

i only answer asks about the mountain goats (prompt list)

#out behind the safeway just before the flood huffed a can of spraypaint and began to vomit blood...... so true john #tMG asks #asked and answered #i feel like such a faker for not having defined favourites but i have a lot of love in my heart #ALSOOO wrt my last answered ask sometbing to be said about how the two songs i relate too most personally reference judas and cain....#connecting the dots im connecting them (you didnt connect shit)

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 7 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N: I don’t know if I can say this but this is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written and I’m so excited I can finally share it! it’s literally two people driving around but it matches the song I guess… I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it! <3

-7-

“So Lemon thinks I’m dating you.” Priyanka used the home phone to call her friend the day after their night out.

It was almost noon and Priyanka’s hangover had abandoned her body after drinking a gallon of water and taking a long -long- shower. She was walking around the house with the phone in one ear and a half-empty cup of coffee in the other. Her parents were at her sister’s place, having lunch with the kids so she had the house for herself –and when you’re hangover no matter how much you love kids you do want to be alone.

Denali burst into laughter. “Does she?” Her voice sounded distorted after singing all night.

“Well, thank you for being so considerate and laugh at the possibility of dating me. At least you didn’t do it on my face.”

“It’s not that… I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous for what matters.”

“You’re still laughing.”

“It’s your telephone connection. But wait, are you going to tell her the truth?”

“Eventually, if she asks again… Until then, would you mind if I play dumb with it?”

“Priyanka, oh my God… You’re so silly.”

“Okay, I’ll take that. But let me be potentially unrealistic for a moment here… she might be jealous of you.”

Denali gasped exaggeratedly.

“Quit making fun of me, you bitch.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… This is just so entertaining for me.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“But the night ended up well for you two, right? Progress… character development?”

“She was drunk and called me Sprinky before I pushed her into a taxi.”

“I love Sprinky! Aw, you guys, pet names already.”

“That hardly qualifies as a pet name but…”

“Tomayto, tomahto, same thing.”

It really was Denali the one who lived in a fantasy world.

“I gotta go. I need to pick some groceries from the supermarket.”

“Okay, bye Sprinky!”

Priyanka clicked her tongue. “Bye. Bitch.”

Her mother had given her a list of things to buy since she was staying in all day and she said her lazy ass needed to do something productive, -she didn’t say it like that but that was what Priyanka heard when she was still wasted on her bed.

She had taken her car to the supermarket that was in the center of the city since it was the biggest one around. On her way there, she noticed the engine coughing a little more than usual but she downplayed it when the noises stopped.

The day was sunny and hot, it warmed her skin and made it glow as she drove to the location. She had grabbed a pair of denim shorts that were on top of her suitcase –luckily, since she hadn’t unpacked yet- but she had to dig some more to find an ombré knitted white and blue crop top she had brought, then complimented the outfit with a pair of sandals and vintage round orange sunglasses. After brushing her hair a little, she was ready to go.

She got to the store, picked a shopping cart, and wandered through the aisles with her mother’s list in her hand. She occasionally lifted her feet and slid with the cart when no one was watching. Then she got distracted whereas she was goofing around and almost crashed it on the cereal aisle, fortunately, no one saw that.

Well, almost no one.

“Jesus Christ you’re going to kill someone with that.”

Priyanka stopped in her tracks when she recognized the voice right away.

Naturally, Lemon was there to see her making a fool of herself.

She was there, looking unimpressed as usual with a shopping basket on the floor next to her. Lemon was wearing a NYC t-shirt in pastel yellow, pink and blue, a pair of mom jeans, and white chunky sneakers that made her a bit taller. She also had a giant pair of white oval sunglasses with black glasses on -Priyanka only suspected the reason behind that fashion choice- she had her hair wet but tied into pigtails and lip gloss, lip gloss was never missing with her.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Priyanka mumbled.

“Can’t say the same,” she sighed. “are you following me or something?”

The brunette scoffed. “You wished…”

“Then move aside I’m trying to get the Froot Loops.”

Priyanka looked up and spotted the colorful cereal box above her head. “But the real question is can you get the Froot Loops?”

“Oh, fuck you.” She almost pushed Priyanka off the way but the other girl moved faster.

Lemon had to tiptoe and jump a little to reach for the box and Priyanka enjoyed every second of it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Lemon was surely grumpy that day, it was the hangover speaking.

“Not really.” She grabbed a box of Cookie Crisp. “I was wondering if you made it home alright after the state you left.”

“I did… thanks for pushing me into a taxi.” There was some of sarcasm there, Priyanka detected.

“Anytime.”

Lemon started walking and Priyanka followed her with her cart, at that point to mess with her some more.

“You still have that sweet tooth for the chocolate chip cookies…” The blonde observed.

Priyanka looked at the cereal she had chosen without giving it much thought. “I guess I do… You still like anything colorful and sugary.”

“Some things never change.”

But other things changed too much.

After roaming a little, at some point, they split and when Priyanka collected the rest of the items on the list she waited in line to pay for her shop. She saw the blonde when she crossed the automatic door with her grocery bags.

Priyanka slid the credit card and then left as well. She loaded the bags on the trunk, then sat at the driver’s seat and inserted the keys to turn on the engine. She tried a couple of times without significant results, the engine coughed a little and then when she thought she had it, it died again.

“C’mon girl, don’t do this to me now… I bought ice cream bars.”

The sight of smoke wasn’t a lovely view, to say the least. When she lifted the engine cover, she discovered it was worse than what she expected.

“Shit… shit, shit, shit… this is bad.”

She pulled her flipping phone from her back pocket and called her father who calmed her down but couldn’t do much in the distance; he suggested a mechanic nearby that could take a look at it.

Priyanka was losing her mind. She sat at the curb and buried her face in her hands.

“Looks like you could use a ride.” Lemon’s voice made her look at the girl.

“Not now.” She blurted out. “I don’t have time for your snarky comments so please refrain from saying anything you’d think is clever.”

Lemon lifted her sunglasses. “I’m not trying to get on your nerves; I’m legit offering you a ride.” Priyanka didn’t seem convinced. “Think for a moment, your groceries are going to go bad with the heat and no air conditioner.”

“The ice cream bars…” She was on the verge of tears. “Fine. Yes, I need a ride, would you be so nice and help me out?”

“Come with me, my car is around the corner in front of the drugstore.”

“Buying some aspirins?”

“Cut the slack I’m trying to do a good deed here.”

“For a change.”

They carried the bags to Lemon’s car around the corner and Priyanka raised an eyebrow as soon as she saw her car.

As expected, from all people, Lemon would be the one driving a sunny yellow Volkswagen New Beetle. They put the groceries on the trunk yet again and the blonde took a seat in the driver’s position, Priyanka sat on the passenger seat.

“A yellow car?” She questioned.

Lemon buckled up. “My dad gave it to me.”

“Your daddy bought you a pretty car? For real?”

She adjusted the sunglasses back on. “He felt guilty after getting re-married and I accepted it as a peace offering. Is that so terrible?”

“Of course…”

Lemon started the engine and moved the vehicle toward the roundabout, heading for Priyanka’s house.

“You have to turn right in the next street.” Priyanka indicated.

“I think I know where your house is.” Lemon murmured as she took a different way.

“Yeah, you could get there faster this way but you’re about to enter to a one-way street… on the opposite side.”

“Shit.” Lemon maneuvered her way out with a U-turn.

“Does everyone in New York drive like this?”

Lemon blushed. “This is my third time driving in town.”

“Did you drive all the way from the Big Apple alone?”

She shook her head. “Rita visited me there and then we traveled together.”

“You two get along for what it seems…”

“It took some time and adjustment. That was supposed to be our bonding trip but I’m pretty sure she secretly holds a grudge since I convinced her mother of making the bridesmaids’ dresses pastel yellow for the wedding.”

Typical Lemon.

“But her mother is nice, she makes my dad happy so I can’t complain.”

“What about your mom? How is she?”

“Christina is alright. She got signed by an important architectural firm two years ago and has been working non-stop since then. She dated a few men but nothing too transcendental. She still listens to ABBA on a daily basis and sings every song in the repertoire deliberately loud enough to embarrass me in front of people but she’s happy. She’s on a cruise right now having the time of her life probably, that’s part of why I’m here.”

“Good for her, good for Christina.”

“That’s what I said. I thought this whole thing of my dad marrying someone else was going to trigger her somehow but she’s proven me wrong when getting over exes is about. Maybe it helped a little that the woman her ex married is older than her but who knows.”

Priyanka chuckled.

Lemon turned the radio on, Give Me All Your Luvin played through the speakers.

It was nice, to get to talk with Lemon like that, forgetting all the fights and unresolved problems they had for a moment. If Priyanka closed her eyes for an instant she could almost picture them both chatting in Lemon’s room with the music playing on the radio and the smell of wet nail polish in the air.

But then, when she opened her eyes, she got back to reality in a world where they had missed seven years of each other’s lives. There was a time where she could tell exactly what Lemon was thinking of but now it was a different story, the blonde was inscrutable and Priyanka couldn’t predict her reactions or guess the words that would come from her mouth. There were many things she didn’t know about Lemon now.

“Do you like Rihanna?” Priyanka asked when they stopped in front of a red light.

“What?” Lemon turned her head. “What kind of question is that?”

The brunette shrugged. “A thought I had.”

“Of course I like Rihanna, what kind of monster do you think I am?”

“One that doesn’t like Rihanna… perhaps.”

Lemon laughed at how ridiculous the conversation was. She had to continue driving when the light changed to green.

“Rihanna’s first album came out seven years ago and she didn’t get the recognition she deserved until a few years later…” Priyanka explained. “so I never got to know if you liked her music and I’m asking it now because there are two types of people in the world, the ones who have the taste and the ones that are monsters and dislike Rihanna’s music.”

“Okay, I’m telling you I love her. In fact, open the glove compartment.”

Priyanka looked at her.

“Go ahead, open it.” She commanded.

She did as the girl said and when the glove compartment was opened, a pile of CDs boxes where revealed inside. The first of them was a copy of Loud by Rihanna and the next one Good Girl Gone Bad.

“I couldn’t bring all of them but I have a few of them here and others at home.”

“Fair enough.” Priyanka checked the other albums underneath.

The little collection included Circus by Britney Spears, Teenage Dream by Katy Perry, Survivor by Destiny’s Child, Overexposed by Maroon 5, The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani and Fearless by Taylor Swift –that last one was Rita’s, she explained- Priyanka inspected the CDs until she found one last album that was in the bottom of the box, it was a worn out copy of Spice World by the Spice Girls, nothing more and nothing less.

“Hey, this is the album you gave me before moving to New York, remember?” A smile grew wide on her face before the memory.

Lemon blushed till the tip of her ears. “I do… that’s actually the copy I used to have in my room… the one we listened to on my radio.”

“Is it?” Priyanka looked at it with admiration. The colors were a bit pale and the box had several scratches, it was clear it has a few years on.

“Yeah… the CD doesn’t work anymore but I still got it there.”

Priyanka looked at the blonde who had her eyes fixed on the road and her hands closed around the steering wheel.

“Why did you keep it?”

“Sentimental value.” Her voice tone was almost inaudible. “I guess I’m not that cold heart monster you think I am, right?” She sounded somber.

“That’s not what I said… I-”

“We’re here.” She announced when she stopped in front of Priyanka’s house. “I’ll help you with the bags and then we can go get the mechanic for your car.”

She got down from the car leaving Priyanka with the words stuck on her throat once again.

It was becoming a pattern now, right when they started getting along again or when they had a decent conversation, Lemon shut the doors and closed all the windows before Priyanka had the chance to break through her walls.

“Your house hasn’t changed at all.” Lemon observed when they walked in with the groceries.

“Ah, yeah. My mom didn’t fall for the charms of the Property Brothers.”

“Do you have the hots for Drew or Jonathan?”

Priyanka cackled. “I stand behind my mother’s beliefs in this one.”

They put the bags on the countertop, Priyanka rushed to place ice cream on the freezer and other products on the fridge before they got spoiled. Lemon folded the paper bags in the meantime.

“Do you have some water?”

“Yeah, here.” Priyanka threw a water bottle at her and the girl caught it in the air.

She opened her purse and took two aspirins and chugged them down with a water sip.

Priyanka just watched her.

“What?” The blonde asked.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m hangover, okay? Tequila is not my best friend… or vodka… neither of them.”

“That’s weird, judging by the way you drank yesterday you’d never guess.”

“Fuck off.” She drank some more water. “Now let’s go get the mechanic for that jalopy of yours.”

“Jalopy?” Priyanka gaped at her. “Excuse you, miss, but I paid that car with my blood, sweat and tears, and two part-time jobs.”

It was the car that was supposed to take her to New York, to Lemon.

“We should hurry then, I don’t know much about mechanics but the amount of smoke that engine released isn’t normal.”

“I know that.”

“Then, let’s go.” The aspirins probably were kicking in.

Before they left the house, Lemon stopped in front of the wall where Priyanka’s mother hung pictures of her and her siblings. In the past, there was a photo of the two of them in school but all over the years her mother probably had saved it just like Priyanka did with all the other Lemon memorabilia. The blonde cast an eye on a photo of the family’s matriarch with a group of children.

“Her grandchildren?”

“Yes, my nephews and nieces.”

“That’s cute… you’re an aunt now.” Priyanka recognized the softness behind her voice and it made her heart skip a beat.

They were back on the road again and Lemon followed the directions until they got to the mechanical workshop Priyanka’s father had suggested her to go. Priyanka explained the man in charge what had happened and then followed the girls with a tow truck.

Priyanka’s car was still where they had left it. It broke her heart to see it there in the streets completely abandoned.

The mechanic took his time to check the engine, he tried to make it work after adjusting some screws and move pieces Priyanka had never heard naming before. Lemon could’ve gone by that moment but she stayed with the brunette, she even shared her bubblegum with her when she noticed how stressed Priyanka was.

After thirty minutes, the man spoke with Priyanka. The diagnosis was not good and he explained that there wasn’t much for him to do. Priyanka felt the knot on her throat and the tears coming at any second. That was her car her baby… this couldn’t be the end of their adventures.

She was beyond surprised when she heard Lemon’s voice.

“But there must be something you can do about it.” She sounded assertive. “The chances are low but there are still chances, right?”

The man babbled some excuses about the car being old and even when it was in a good state; it was going to require some extra work.

“Then do the work.” The blonde continued. “That might look like a piece of junk for both of us but that’s her piece of junk and it means a lot to her so you will take it back to the workshop and do whatever you have to do to save it. Am I being clear enough?”

The man just nodded with wide eyes, maybe too scared to add anything else.

Priyanka was also speechless.

She watched the mechanic hooking her car to the tuck and then stared at Lemon.

“Thanks.” She blinked a couple of times. “That was amazing.”

“I’m sorry I called your car a jalopy.”

“She’s temperamental but it’s okay, I don’t think she heard you anyway.”

“I know you might think of me as this spoiled brat but don’t think I don’t understand what’s like to work hard to achieve something.”

“Thank you.”

“Now let’s go before that guy mistakes the junkyard for the workshop.”

“Hey!”

All was not lost.

That was what the mechanic had said once they left Priyanka’s car at the workshop. It was going to take a couple of days to have a better picture of the problem but maybe replacing some parts would make the difference.

Priyanka sighed of relief and almost hugged the man but then she saw the zeroes on the estimated budget for the repairs and decided to keep the hug for herself… she was more than thankful for having a job back in Toronto that would pay for the bills.

“Well, the good news is that she might live.” Priyanka announced when she got in the car with Lemon.

“There you have. He was just playing hard to get and I know about that.”

“Thank you, Lemon… for helping me so much today. You didn’t have to but still, you did.”

She started the engine. “You’ve done the same for me no questions asked.”

“Are you feeling better after the aspirins?”

“Yeah… I’m never drinking again I swear…”

“That’s a lie.”

“It is…”

“Do you even remember what you said? Last night?”

Lemon stopped in the red light. Her face was as pale as paper and she stared at Priyanka with big eyes, there was horror on them.

“What did I say?”

Priyanka started laughing.

“Priyanka, what did I say?”

The brunette ceased laughing. It was the first time Lemon called her by her name.

“You called me Sprinky and kept asking if Denali is my girlfriend.”

Lemon breathed again. “Thank God… it was just that…”

Priyanka was now puzzled. What else could she’d said?

“I remember that part, you never answered the question anyway.”

She sighed. “Denali is my friend. Just that… we’re friends. Are you happy now?”

Lemon kept driving, it became evening all of sudden.

“I don’t understand though, how did you get to the conclusion that we were dating? I mean, where did the idea come from?”

“Uhm… I’m friends with Kiara and Scarlett on Facebook…”

Traitors, both of them.

“Aha…”

“…and… well, sometimes a picture with you would appear… or pictures of you in nightclubs…”

“I’m so going to kill Scarlett. I told her not to post those…”

“I didn’t mean to assume anything but… I saw you and Denali together the other day and I thought… maybe…”

Priyanka took a deep breath.

“So you know… you know I like girls…”

She nodded.

“And are you okay with that?”

Lemon looked at her. “Why wouldn’t I? Of course I’m okay with that…”

There was a short silence between them, a part of Priyanka was relieved but she could feel her heart pounding.

“Don’t tell me that on top of you thinking that I dislike Rihanna you also consider myself to be homophobic or an ignorant asshole… that being the same thing.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Well, you’ll never have to question it again.” She sounded angry.

“I’m sorry… I take it back, you’re not a monster.”

Lemon’s face softened.

“It’s just… I think of Jan…”

Jan.

That name again, seven years after.

“Jan and her girlfriend Jackie are the one example of true love I have. My parents’ marriage didn’t work but Jan and Jackie… they are grossly in love, it’s disgusting and I love them so much.”

So Jan had a girlfriend… interesting.

“If they couldn’t be themselves and be together I would’ve lost all hope in love, to be honest.” She looked at Priyanka. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but do your parents know?”

Lemon was probably one of the only people who knew Priyanka’s struggles with her family by first hand; they had spoken about it so many times before but never specifically on that topic.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I told them a few years ago when my oldest brother was planning his wedding and they were trying to set me up with the son of their friends or something like that.” Priyanka tittered. “I told my mom first and she was more sympathetic, I had a long talk with her, lots of tears… then we hugged and she told me she loves me…”

Lemon did the unthinkable: she reached for her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. It was a small gesture; it didn’t last longer than a few seconds –she was driving after all- but for some reason, it made Priyanka feel much better.

“My dad… it was a different story. It took him longer to accept it and I believe he’s still digesting it so we don’t talk much about it. It was easier when I moved to a new city… It’s not like I had to need to hide who I am but there I could start from zero and be one hundred percent myself since the first moment.”

“I’m happy for you.” She smiled. “I really am.”

With all the resentment and the bickering, Priyanka had forgotten that Lemon could be sweet, that she could be caring, that she could be her friend.

A friend.

“So your friend Jan, she’s your roommate, right?”

“Yeah, the same.

“Is it Janice, Janelle, Janet…?”

“I’m quite sure it’s just Jan but even after these years they probably don’t even know my real name so it could be anything at this point…”

“And she’s dating Jackie.” Just to make it clear.

“They have the corniest love story that involves love confessions in carriage rides in Central Park, roses and singing songs under the starry sky.”

Priyanka almost choked.

“Exactly.” Lemon giggled. “They are a constant reminder I’m single as hell.”

This time, Priyanka choked for real.

At that moment, Lemon stopped the car, they had arrived.

In the distance, Priyanka spotted her parents’ car arriving shortly after.

Priyanka’s mom got down from the car and got closer to the unfamiliar car parked in front of their house meanwhile her dad put the car in the garage.

“Priyanka and… Lemon? Is that you?”

“Hello Mrs. Suknanan, it’s been a while.” She opened the door of the car and hugged Priyanka’s mom.

“I haven’t seen you in ages… You look all grown-up.”

“Don’t lie to her like that, mom.” Priyanka walked to where the little reunion was taking place.

Lemon rolled her eyes.

Here we go again.

“Are you staying for dinner? We’d love you to stay. I insist… I’m sure Priyanka would love it too.” She elbowed her daughter.

Traitors, even the ones you’d never expect.

“She wants to know if you’re staying for dinner…”

Lemon pulled one of her pageant full teeth smiles. “I’d love to, Mrs. Suknanan but I promised my dad I’d be back by now. Maybe some other day.”

“You have to promise it to me or Priyanka is never going to bring you back.”

“Mom! Leave her alone.” Priyanka wanted to hide under a rock.

“Actually, I’m the one who brought her tonight so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll wait for you to stop by next week, alright?”

“I’ll be here.”

Priyanka raised her hand. “Am I invited?”

“We’ll think about it.” Lemon grinned. “Mrs. Suknanan, always a pleasure to see you, please give Mr. Suknanan my regards.”

“I will, dear. Give your father my best wishes.”

“I surely will.”

Priyanka’s mom got into the house leaving them alone again.

“She’s so lovely… why didn’t you pick any of that?”

“Ha. Ha.” Priyanka exaggerated her fake laughter.

“As much as I know you enjoy having me as your driver, I have to leave now.”

“Thanks again for that. My car might live another day because of you.”

“I know.” Lemon seemed pleased.

“I’ll make it up to you… somehow.”

“I’ll think of something just wait for it.” She opened the door of her car and Priyanka closed it for her.

“See you around, Lemon.”

“I knew you were stalking me.” She started the engine.

Priyanka threw her head back and released a laugh. “In your dreams, doll.”

The brunette watched the sunny-side up vehicle getting away and then walked toward her house with a smile on her face she couldn’t erase.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #lemon #priyanka #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #friends to lovers #lesbian au #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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fallen-gravity · 4 years

Text

Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes: Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs.

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”.

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror.

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.” He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that”

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry.

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal.

Screw it.

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is.

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me”

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?” He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?” He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly.

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation.

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting.

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier”

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split. The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.

#gravity falls #my writing #team brawn #stan pines #dipper pines

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acapulco-goldd · 4 years

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youtube

Welcome to the land of the permanent sun

Where the flowers are melted and the future is fun

The freeway lizards are not feelin' so good

On a one-way trip back to West Hollywood, let's go

I feel so good to have a perfect song

I feel so good to be in total control

I feel so good to have a perfect song

I feel so good to be in total control

There were spotlights flying, through the sky

From a winter wonderland, catching out

The beasts hiding in the clouds, no future, bad man

Not before Christmas, not very likely

One hundred million Viagra tablets

Stored in a warehouse in a valley

I feel so good to have a perfect song (uh huh)

I feel so good to be in total control (uh huh)

I feel so good to have a perfect song (uh huh)

I feel so good to be in total control

It's so convincing, but something's missing

The sun is kissing my face and erasing my doubts

I'm going out with a bang, and the fangs of a parasite

I'm feeling alright

Alright, all night, alright, alright, alright

I'm chasing dreams, etcetera and forever

I hope, said no one

She's a plastic Cleopatra on a throne of ice

She's a hemophiliac

With a dying battery light

Candy-colored fingers and schadenfreude eyes

Thinkin' airbrushed thoughts with a logo on her mind

It's so delightful, it's so insightful

It's so frightful, and I'm feeling it

Every single fucking day (yay yay yay yay yay)

It's time to party

It's time to party (woo)

In the valley where you wake up every beautiful day

And the world you created in your image is golden

Valley made of mirrors

Oh, the light is so bright

You can feel like a pagan

In the valley where you wake up every beautiful day

And the world you created in your image is golden

Valley made of mirrors

Oh, the light is so bright

You can feel like a pagan