#i loved how her and danny's story ended in full house but by god was she needed in this

[themuseoftheviolets]

vicky larson save me... vicky larson... save me vicky larson

[jxckchxmpi0n]

"You can't keep pretending it didn't happen, cause guess what? it did!" prompt w/ ethan please 😁🙏

Stop Lying

Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list

summary: going to a frat party to celebrate surviving finals end up turning into a night of things you would never forget.

warnings: drinking, drugs (weed), cursing, kissing, fluff, angst,

word count: 2.8k

did not proofread.

I never know how to end stories.

It was the end of the second term. Your first year was basically over, you just had another ten weeks, and the summer was here. So, to celebrate you and the group thought it would be a good idea to go to one of the frat parties. Everyone was down to go except you and Ethan, who have been known as the nerds in the group.

You love school but you also love to party. You tell yourself that you only party during the summer, once school starts you have to "lock in" as Chad liked to call it. But after these last finals you thought that one party won't hurt.

It was already about eight pm when Chad and Ethan came walking into Tara's apartment. Sam was out with Danny, and Mindy and Anika were just going to pre-game with you guys and stay home. So, in the end it was only you Tara, Chad, and Ethan.

Ethan wasn't much of a drinker, so he didn't drink much before the party. You and Tara took about two shots. Chad had also decided to wait till the party just in case.

As the boys were waiting in the living room for you two Tara giggled to herself as she pulled out her makeup. "You know Ethan likes you right?" she set her bag on the desk opened it and reached for her eyeliner. You told her earlier that day that she could do whatever she'd like for your makeup.

"No, he doesn't, trust me he just sees me as a friend." you lightly shook your head as she reached for your chin to hold your face while she put on the eyeliner.

After about hour you guys were finally ready, the boys had also changed. Ethan was just in some slasher t-shirt and jeans while Chad was in a football hoodie.

Chad was the first to speak when he saw you both. "Whoa my god you two look stunning" he smiled at you while he leaned down to kiss Tara on the cheek. Ethan stood there looking at you like a fool. You didn't see how his mouth hung slightly open, and you definitely couldn't see how his hands were sweating.

"Yeah you- you guys look great." as he stumbled over his words Tara eyed him and watched how his eyes never left you.

"Well let's get going" Chad grabbed Tara's hand and made their way to the door, as you and Ethan followed them.

-

As you entered the house, a wave of alcohol and weed flooded your nose. You could already feel your hangover before you even drank. Tara grabbed your hand, dragging you to the kitchen. The boys followed close behind, you could hear their voices lightly, hearing both your name and Tara's.

Chad broke away from the three of you as he went to catch up with his frat friends. Tara also ended up leaving both you and Ethan. You stood in the corner with the shy boy, your drink, half empty. Looking over, you saw his was still full. "Come one, Ethan, let loose. You finished your finals. " You leaned into him so he could hear you, your breath tickling his ear. The light smell of gum and alcohol lingered on your breath.

"I just don't think I like drinking around these many people." he looked around and saw people dancing, drinking, smoking, all of the things you could imagine. You noticed the nervous look on his face, how he picked at the ring that hugged his middle finger.

You decided to lace your fingers with his empty hand, leaning in again. You said, "Well, we can go outside, get fresh air, and be alone?" Your voice was reassuring to him. He could feel his heartbeat traveling a million miles faster than before. Not trusting his voice, he just nodded.

As he followed close behind you, he could hear the party getting smaller. Realizing he was in the backyard with you, very few were out here. Just a few people here and there, mainly smoking and or making out.

As you sat down in the grass, you let go of Ethan's hand. Part of him wished for it back. It was comforting, as he sat down next to you he saw you were watching him. "What?" He felt his cheeks warm up. He felt his stomach flutter as you smiled at him.

"Nothing, just admiring you." You smiled and then looked away once you realized what you said. Trying to cover yourself, you quickly asked him a question, "So how do you think you did on the finals?"

His eyes met yours, his lips turned up as he saw the soft smirk on your face. "I think I did pretty good, I'm not doubting myself, but I'm also not puffing my chest out." You light laughed at his comment.

"What about you? How did you do?" He took a sip of his drink forgetting its alcohol, a sour look took his face as he spit it back in the cup.

You couldn't help but laugh as he tried to brush the taste off tongue. "It was fine," breaking every few words with your laugh. "I um- I don't think I passed them all, but I tried, so that's all that matters" taking the last sip of your drink.

The sour and burning sensation ran down your throat. "I'm sure you did great. You always do. " he looked down at you with a soft smile. You could never get over that smile. And how brown his eyes were, but in the night light, they looked black, and even then, you could still feel the warmth of them.

Setting your cup on the ground caused goosebumps to trail your body, making you shiver. "Are you cold?" Ethan watched you as you ran your arms up and down your legs.

"Ha no," he could see through you. Without thinking about he moved closer, wrapping his arm around your body.

Your body went stiff just for a moment, but once you felt him against you, it was like you melted. It felt so perfect.

As you sat there, you could feel him staring at you. Taking your head off his shoulder, you looked up, "can I help you? Your voice was soft and airy, not wanting to sound aggressive.

"Nothing, I just like looking." he looked between both your eyes, and then your lips.

"There's nothing much to look at," your tone changed duller than before, as if you were doubting him.

"That's not true," his other hand put his drink down then went to your cheek. He pushed a piece of hair out of the way, then rested him thumb on your cheek.

Part of you was living every moment of this, and the other was begging to leave. You watched his eyes as they looked at your again, then your lips. As you looked in his eyes, you saw what he wanted, the question in his eyes begging.

You couldn't deny it. You were begging as well, your eyes saying the same thing back to him, and without realizing it, your head shook up and down.

All he needed was that nod. Leaning in, you leaned in as well, your lips meeting. He was shy, not moving his lips of a moment. And it's like it clicked. Slowly, they moved, and as yours moved with his, he grew confident.

His hand cupping your face as yours goes to his hair. Those brown curly you loved so much, it's everything you ever wanted. The kiss started to get heated as you felt both yours and his breath hitch, your fingers softly pulling his curls, causing a groan to escape from his mouth.

The burning sensation in your lungs, begging for air. You didn't want to pull away, but you had to. Slowly, you dropped your hand, Ethan understood what you were doing so slowly his slowed his lips, still breaking the kiss but peppering your lips.

And as he opened his eyes, a voice rang through the backyard. "Ethan! Oh, shit there you're. " Without thinking, he jumped away from you, standing up as he heard his name.

Chad stood by the back door, drunk out of his mind. Tara behind him as he tried to get his roommates attention.

"A little help here?!" Tara's voice sounded raspy and distressed. Before you could process anything that just happened, you ran to help her.

"I think it's time to go." Tara herself was stumbling. Ethan took Chad as you helped Tara. You made your way to the car slowly but surely. Getting the couple into the car and getting them comfortable a job.

Chad kept wanting to run away, Tara just sat there, making fun of Chad. As Ethan decided he should drive, you sat in the back with the others to make sure they tried anything stupid.

Which left you unavailable to talk to Ethan about what had happened. Your thoughts swimming with questions wondering why he was so quick to leave, was he embarrassed? Did he not want to be seen with me?

And before you knew it, the night got away from you both. Taking care of Tara and Chad left you both exhausted, and then after you avoided him.

For a week, you didn't go over. You didn't see the group or anything. Ethan was confused because he thought the kiss was good, but as another week went by, he became angry. He didn't understand why, maybe it was at himself or you, but he hated that he could be mad at you.

You now just felt mad, not at yourself but at Ethan. Why make such a move then go and leave you like that? It caused you so much pain, everyone could see that. Everyone knew something was up, with both you and Ethan. You disappeared, and now all of a sudden, he's letting Chad pick the horror movies.

Something happened at that party, and they were both determined to figure it out. Tara went to your apartment to ask you questions, and without saying anything you told her everything, as did Ethan to Chad.

They both knew they needed to get you guys in the same room to talk it over, but how?

They had decided to lie to you and Ethan, Tara had told you Ethan was busy studying so he wouldn't be at the hangout tonight. And Chad had told Ethan that you were picking up an extra shift which made him sad rather than relieved.

As everyone started to show up, Ethan sat on the couch minding his business when he heard the door open. "Ahh, there she is!" Mindy's voice rang through the apartment, she was the first one to see you walk in.

As you said you said hello to everyone you noticed brown curly hair, Ethan had gotten up when he realized you were here. His heartbeat racing like it did that night.

Your face dropped its expression when your eyes locked with his, your heart screaming at him, the nervous sweat taking over your body. Your eyes glanced at Tara; she held a soft 'sorry' smile.

"Hey, Y/n" his voice was soft and light. Everyone had already moved on seeing the tension between you and him.

"Hey, Ethan" You didn't want to sound too mean, but you couldn't help the harsh tone in your voice.

"I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?" his hand came to rest under your arm. His eyes had a begging light to them.

"You know uh, Ethan maybe not right now. There's nothing to really talk about" As you spoke you could feel the tension grow thicker, your body wince as you saw the look in his eyes.

Ethan felt his heart shatter as you spoke, how your voice was cold.

"What do you mean? I haven't seen you in two weeks, since the party and I just wanted-" he was rushing through his words, scared as to what you were going to say.

"Ethan, look there's nothing to talk about. At least not right now, I just want to hang out with our friends" You dropped your arm from his hand, turning your body you made your way to the living room with the others.

Ethan stood there in anger; he didn't understand why you were acting like this. All he wanted was to tell you how he felt and how that night at the party changed him. All he wanted was to be with you, to have you in his arms again.

He watched you sit right next to Mindy and Anika which was the last straw. He walked over to you, hovering over you as you talked to Mindy, leaning down he grabbed your hand pulling you up.

"Ethan what the fuck" Everyone noticed his actions; Anika was about to stop him when she felt Mindy's hand on her leg.

"Shut up." his voice was harsh and angry. As he pulled you up to your feet, he then dragged you to the closest room.

The others just sat there watching you two run into the room. the door slammed, making an echo through the apartment. Giving each other all a look, they then hit play on the movie and turned up the volume.

"Jesus Ethan, what the fuck is your problem?" you ripped your hand from his grasp.

"What's my problem? mine? What's yours? we kissed at that party, and now you can't even stand to be around me. I don't understand. " His voice was rising, and all the emotions he was feeling were coming out.

"Look, Ethan, we were drinking -" your hand dragged over your face as you tried to come up with different excuses.

"That's bullshit! Y/n, you weren't even drunk! I wasn't even drunk!" He was throwing his hands around as he yelled.

"Ethan it's- I don't know what you want me to say!"

"I want to stop pretending like it didn't happen! Because guess what it did! And I don't know if it meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me! Y/n I love you, and I have for a while, and seeing you avoid me like this hurts me, " he stood next to you as close as he could. His voice trembled as he realized he confessed to you.

"Then why did you stand up like that? Why did you leave me so quickly when Chad came outside? If anything, Ethan, you hurt me! And fuck, it was everything to me but when you got up and rushed away I was worried it was all in my head!" Your voice was loud at the beginning, but then soften once you processed that Ethan had said he loved you.

He could help but bite his lip as he heard your words. His heart hurt as he realized he hurt you. Walking close to you, he looked between your eyes, taking a deep breath. As softly as possible, he spoke, "I didn't mean to hurt you. That's the last thing I want. And what I want is for you to talk to me because Jesus y/n you have me wrapped around your finger"

You smiled at his words, creating a little pain in your cheeks as they hurt from the smile, but it was all worth it.

You couldn't express what was going through your mind, but there was one thing that you knew you coukd do, and that was to kiss him.

Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him down to you, and your lips met his. All those emotions from the other night ran through your body again. The feeling of his dry yet soft lips drove you insane, Ethan didn't waste a second. His hand flew to your cheek, cupping your face. Slow, moving down to hold your throat, his other hand went to you wasit to pull your body flush against his.

Your other hand that wasn't tangled into his shirt was face slowly running to his hair. Your lungs burnt in the best way.

Breaking away, you looked at him, your eyes pleading a little. "I'm sorry. For ignoring you and not telling you how I felt, " your eyes trailed down to the floor, not wanting to face him fully.

His hand ducked under your chin, pulling your face up. "I don't want you to be sorry, ever." With that, he leaned down again, kissing you softly.

[hertwood]

dts s4 e1-3

e1: -OK this was my first dts epsiode EVER it is so special and nostalgic 2 me its the start of EVERYTHING i do not accept s4 slander in this house!!!!!! -daniel is SO optimistic abt mclaren thats so sad 😭😭😭😭 -i think as a first episode for me this was GREAT for setting the scene. this is the first time in the entire series where they have a dedicated segment to the team principals and their rivalries and i think that is so so so important to be able to look at it through that lense moving forward -"[bottas] was moaning and bitching like you wouldn't believe" ok whatever u say moaning and bitching multi-world champion christian horner -"toto inhereted something already well oiled" wasn't brawn/mercedes struggling till he came along or am i wrong. like he joined and a year later they won their first championship. like am i missing something -"darling, i'm not riding bottas" is such an underrated iconic dts quote -i wish i was fuckin there to see nikita crash in his first fucking lap. iconic -love it when commentators say "oh thats a reaaaally interesting strategy call" its clearly code for what the fuck are they doing -i'm so jealous of yall who got to watch this race season live this opening round is SUCH a narratively beautiful start of the season and dts captures it well!!

e2: -i've started watching this while manicly cleaning my apartment so i have nothing to say abt the beginning bit soz -max f cameo!!! v important 2 me :) -michael & daniel are so kaylor coded to me. i know some ppl are like "oh they were never friends they were just coworkers" and i'm like CLEARLY thats full of shit just bc they've fallen out doesnt mean you need to retcon the friendship they had. its sad to see when it was good bc clearly there were good parts. if only we could know -this is the danny ric girlie orgin story 2 ME LETS FUCK SHIT UP -this is such an iconic lando episode 2 me as well! "1 nill down already fuck shit fuck" thats MY baby nothing has changed clearly -"the fireworks for me?" "they can be" 🥺🥺🥺🥺 -"what if i'm just a cunt" is such an important daniel quote to me it is actually deep LISTEN. why must we be expected to be calm n collected n positive in the face of adversity. why must we put on a brave face. our negative emotions deserve to exist without defining us. ANYWAY -i never even remember what exactly happens each monaco weekend i just know that ferraris gonna shit the bed somehow -OH this episode was the FIRST time i opened ao3 carlando interact for like 10 seconds at the end of the episode and i was immediately oh theres DEFINITELY fic of them fucking. in abundance. i just know it

e3: -having season 4 be the first season i watched just permanently altered my brain chemistry the 4433 brainrot is REAL they get near eachother on track i go NUTS they are everything to me. you'd ship them too if you werent a coward -LOVE every single segment with susie. she is so wise i could listen to her narrate the whole f1 season all day -pierre still doing red bull's dirty work i see OH MY GOD HES NEVER GONNA PICK YOU -ROSCOE -unfortunately i am still and will always be a mercedes girl in my SOUL. my bad -i think lewis is taking the piss when he talks abt not being an aggressive driver. is he the /most/ aggressive driver? no. but christian is unfortunately right. also reminds me of how in the 07-08 season there was a race where he got a huge penalty bc he was "too aggressive" and there was all sorts of talk abt how he was too aggressive of a driver 🙄🙄 anyway 4433 cinematic parallels -the way ppl STILL bring this crash up gets me mad like i promise no one was trying to have a nasty crash on purpose--they just happen sometimes. no one should fault lewis for celebrating either--it was his home race and he could've easily not know and you think max would want his apologies and platitudes? NO. also currently they're both clearly not hung up on it so idk why (mostly max fans) (only some obviously) are still hung up on it. "lewis could've killed max" and max could've killed lewis in monza in that case they're fucking even let it fucking go -but there is no way that boy wasnt CONCUSSED as FUCK you can just tell with that 1000 yard stare they shouldn't have let him drive again so quickly tbh -however i DO agree w toto saying max gets away w/ driving aggressively bc most ppl will bail out and i do think that is somewhat true. not to say max is the only driver with this mindset but i do think theres some truth to that -aldskjfalksjfalksdjf im looking up articles abt the incident and this reddit thread said that alex thought the penalty was fair i am KISSING HIM on the mouth

[caravelmp3]

UNDER THE CANYON MOON

pairing: josh kiszka x female!reader warning(s): mostly fluff, just brief mentions of alcohol and sex  word(s): 2k note: hi hi hi !! this is just a little something i wrote up the last couple of days with the inspiration of light my love, canyon moon by harry styles, and the interview where josh talked about road-tripping the u.s. last summer <3 i don’t write one shots often but let me know what you all think bc i might shuffle some more out soon lol. hope you all enjoy !! :) 

The Los Angeles sun was hot, beating down onto the city basking in its late-summer hues. You parked your car on the street in Silver Lake and carried a bag of food and drink tray to the door of a recording studio, more than prepared to be swarmed by hungry boys who had been cooped up in the studio since five a.m. on the dot that morning. They had a breakthrough the night before with a new song, and after getting home and going to bed for a few hours, the creative juices started flowing again and they were back in the booth. 

A windchime on the door sang as you pulled the door open and walked inside, greeting their manager who was at a table by the door. 

“The boys here?” 

“Down the hall,” he nodded, pointing a finger in the direction of the hallway. “They’re more rowdy than usual so be prepared,” 

You laughed and turned down the hall, walking towards the studio. The walls were decorated with memorabilia of rock and roll greats and record plaques, and among them, you spotted a picture of the four boys with their Grammy award. It seemed like time had passed so quickly. They won the award for the first album and they were already working on their third, shooting them further into stardom. 

“Coffee’s here!” You shouted in a really bad New England accent when you noticed the recording light was flipped off above the door. 

You stepped into the room to a chorus of cheers and “thank god you're here”’s that made you laugh while sitting the food and drinks down on the table and they all rushed over. You handed out the specific orders and pointed to which drinks was theirs when they got handsy and tried to grab everything from her out of both excitement and some desperation for caffeine. 

“Our savior,” Jake said, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to give them a gentle shake before taking the coffee you were holding out to him, and then you handed Danny’s to him, too. 

“Just the coffee girl here,” 

“Well, you’re a little bit more than that,” Josh said, walking over to the table to grab his full cup. 

You pressed a hand against the table, leaning over to him. “Just a little?” 

“A little bit,” he shot you a wink before swiftly pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You were more than just a “little more” than the coffee girl, you were typically their designated drunk driver, the one who took all of their candid photos, the mediator in times of need, and well, the girlfriend of the lead singer, too. 

Everyone in the studio took their food and drinks and scattered among the seating area in a break from recording. Instead of one tiny room with all of them cramped together, they had a wide open space with booths for the different instruments and bean bag chairs and big comfy, velvet sofas, and there was dim lighting with deep toned rugs that gave off the vibe of a more relaxed feel rather than the fluorescent-light, tiled-floor feeling that made them feel rushed and confined by rules they didn’t set themselves. 

You liked the studio, too, and often took naps on the sofa while listening to them play instruments individually in the recording booths and while they were writing. One night they had found you at two a.m., bundled up with a blanket on the bean bag chair after they spent the night writing in the front room on the piano, but it wasn’t the first time as you often napped in their Nashville recording offices, too. 

“You guys been busy today?” You asked jokingly while lowering onto the sofa armrest, receiving nothing but glares shot in your direction. “Okay, okay, touchy subject,” 

With a mouthful of bread, Sam pointed to Josh, “Josh finished a song, didn’t you?” He was grinning. 

You hummed in joy and surprise, grabbing Josh’s knee as he sat next to you. “Really?” 

It had been a rough few days for all of them as they tried to shuffle out a few more additions to the new album. It felt incomplete with something missing, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was exactly, so they attempted to bring back and revamp old songs, write and record new ones, but nothing seemed to stick, until now. 

“Yeah, wanted to wait and show you later, but someone can’t keep his trap shut.” Josh said, pretending to be serious before cracking a smile and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just wanted it to be a surprise,” 

“Well it can still be a surprise, I’m surprised now,” you said. “Can I hear it? Or read what you got?” 

Josh nodded and stood, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. There was a little recording room fit with a piano inside, his writing journal placed on the music stand where he had scribbled notes and keys and melodies in pen. He picked it up and handed it to you. 

“Nothing seemed to click until last night, when I started putting it together.” He said. 

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was when you all got back to the house?” 

Josh shrugged, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, yeah, I wanted it to be special when you first heard it.”

You sat the coffee cup down onto the floor while lowering into the small chair in the corner, holding the journal like it was the most delicate piece of art in the world. In silence, while Josh watched on anxiously, you read the words he had splayed across the blank page. 

     Can you light my love?      Flames glowing bright as the sun      Deeper than oceans you run      Watch as our world has begun 

     Your mind is a stream of colors      Extending beyond our sky      A land of infinite wonders      A billion lightyears from here now

You felt your throat tighten, tears tempted your eyes. 

It was a love song. 

“Josh-” 

“Oh god you hate it don’t you, you dread it, despise it,” 

“Oh shut up, I’m in tears right now, you know I love it.” You looked up at him with a smile and a sniffle. 

His words across the page were sloppy, some cursive, written in different pens of different colors, some lines crossed and scribbled out, others underlined. 

“Your mind is something I will never fully understand.” You told him as he sat down on the chair next to you. “How the fuck did you come up with this-” 

“I was thinking about our trip out here, the week we spent driving out and all of the stuff we did… and how I think I fell more in love with you.” His voice softened. 

You reached out, placing your arm on his shoulder, fingers playing with his curls. “I can’t put it into words how much I love it, how much I love you,” you said, “and you make me sound so lovely when in reality I know I was a pain in the ass that entire trip.” 

“Yeah, but my pain in the ass,” he kissed the inside of your arm. 

Two weeks before the boys left Nashville to head to Los Angeles, Josh called you at midnight with an idea in mind – the two of you renting a camper to drive out to L.A., falling into all of the tourist traps along the way and stopping in random small towns to sleep while exploring the in between, which would definitely beat the boring four-hour flight. And you, half asleep and across the country, agreed. 

It would be fun. Right? 

And it was. Every time someone asked how it went, you called it “the most magical week of my life.” 

While the others waited behind for their flights the next week, you and Josh set off from Nashville, heading west with only the destination in mind and a trusty map in hand. Everything else just came to you both. 

The first stop was three hours in the trip, in Memphis. You and Josh roamed Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard and had lunch near Sun Studio before taking in the mementos and relics at the Blues Hall of Fame where Josh talked your ear off, rattling off more details about each band and singer than was on the info-cards on the wall. 

Then it was two hours to Little Rock, falling asleep in the back of the camper after a take-out dinner outside of a random supermarket. Sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of a parking lot, you held Josh’s hand under a blanket and watched the pink sunrise over the hills, and then it was back on the road again. 

From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, you fiddled with the map when Josh got lost after a wrong turn in a small town where he insisted on seeing the giant 66-foot LED soda bottle sculpture, and in the middle of northern Texas, he made it up to you by cooking your favorite dinner. You thanked him in a quiet whisper as you crawled into the bed with him that night, sliding under the covers where he greeted you with warm hands and kisses against your neck that made you squeal with the tickle of his mustache and he grinned against your lips. 

Josh got to choose the music all the way through New Mexico – Neil Young and Crazy Horse to John Denver’s Thank God I’m A Country Boy, and you were only able to squeeze in Joan Baez every hour when you stopped to stretch your legs on the side of the road, belting the words to him while he laughed at your voice cracks. 

And after you both pitched the tent in the Petrified Forest in Arizona, Josh hummed the tune to some new song while you two sat under the midnight stars in the canyon with a roaring fire, his arm around you, his sweatshirt draped over your shoulders. When he tried to start telling you a scary story after you heard a weird noise outside the tent, you blindly hit him in the dark and accidentally hit his nose, causing you both to burst into laughter after the initial panic left. He laughed loudly into your shoulder as you held his face in shock, catching the scent of your lavender lotion, and his body relaxed when the laughter died down, feeling so at peace in his life with you there. 

It was the tail end of the trip, but the excitement hadn’t died down yet. After showers in the camper in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona and five hours west, you and Josh found a bar outside of Las Vegas that resembled Coyote Ugly, so you both had a round of tequila sodas and margaritas before walking around the small town that evening and sleeping off the tipsy-headaches in the air conditioning. On top of the covers, you looked at Josh napping in the sunshine, cheeks flushed red, curls poofy from the wind, and you felt your heart grow in your chest before falling asleep next to him. 

And then came Los Angeles, the final stop, the dreaded one. But you and Josh didn’t tell anyone that either of you were sad to be back with them in L.A. when they asked, and instead, you two smiled and hugged everyone after piling out of the camper in the drive-way of the Silver Lake house. 

Cleaning out the camper, tossing cheesy novelty t-shirts at each other and laughing at how many socks you two managed to lose along the way and how many bug bites were added, watching the developed clips Josh had filmed of scenes in the desert and you asleep in the passenger seat, you both were nostalgic about a trip that just ended. 

It was so easy, so freeing to just be together on the road, with only the destination in mind. It revealed a part of them that the other didn’t see often, like your tendencies to get your lefts and rights mixed up while giving directions, and Josh’s equally awful sense of direction didn’t exactly pair with the fact that he was a maniac while driving in the first place. 

But those parts were just added to the long list of why you and him loved each other in the first place. So you became the designated driver after Amarillo and Josh stuck to telling you “left or right” for the rest of the time. It was a compromise, another reason why you two worked so well together. 

It was a form of love in itself. 

“We’ll have to drive all the way back to Nashville then, so you can write more songs about me.” You teased. 

Josh rolled his eyes but cracked into a grin a second later. “Let’s not get too carried away,” but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t always mentally reliving the night under the canyon moon.

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

Could u maybe do one with damiano where they Get into A fight and He says something very mean but it need with fluff i hope u understood. Thanks :)

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 1769

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 (𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬- 𝐨𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡)

your day wasn't the best when you came home — your head hurt, the day was freezing cold from the moment you peeled the blanket off of yourself, and the hours in the office felt like thrice longer than usual. your boyfriend, damiano couldn't take you out at your office, since his studio was in the opposite direction than your office, but you got in late too because he couldn't find something he needed. you were a little bit nervous, but you just sushed your thoughts and tried to forget the words damiano and you said to each other.

"why can't you just leave the things in their original place? is this that hard to note?"

"be glad that i washed it out."

"be glad that i washed it out…"

damiano mimicked your voice, you hoped that the tone of his voice was only annoyed and derisive because he was tired.

thus, your mom called you in lunch just to call you about that there's no room in the house for you because your other cousins need place until the end of christmas –you couldn't stop the bitter taste in on your tongue, maybe that's why you couldn't hide the disappointment and gloom in your tone.

"but… where gonna i sleep then?"

"sweetheart, you can rent out a hotel room for a few days, don't you?"

"but mom, that's so much money!"

"did i mention that we would be so, so happy if we could meet your boyfriend? what was his name, danny?"

could your mother for only once not change the topic of the talk, if that began to change uncomfortable for her?

"it's damiano, mom."

"damiano, yes. so, is it alright for you?"

i don't have another option, and you know this too too well.

"yes. bye, mom."

you didn't wait for her "goodbye, sweetheart", slamming the red button on your phone.

and now, at the end of this ironically 'happy' and 'succesful' day, you stood in your living room, with your phone in your hand, pressing together your lips as damiano said out those words. you hoped that when you get home, you can take a long shower or run a bath while damiano sits on the edge of the tub, or even bathing with you, talking about this shitty day while you and damiano hate the world together, sharing a bottle of champagne and painting each other's nails –but he too decided to go against you.

"i think you shouldn't worry that much about that."

"what?"

"come on babe, it's just your mom. she's always dramatic, you shouldn't pull it on yourself that hard."

"no, i think you don't understand my problem, she literally said that her daughter don't have a place, a bed in the house she grew up during fuckint christmas!"

"shake it off, y/n. we're gonna figure it out."

"we're gonna figure it out, what does that mean to you, huh? christmas is approaching, day by day, the hotels are sure as hell full, even the airbnb-homes, but yeah, you're right, we have all the time in the world to figure it out!" you acted with your hand, more sarcastic than ever.

"what are saying now, that is my fault that you got a late call?"

you sighed, feeling your soul heavier than ever –the pound in your head spreaded down into your chest, giving the sour feeling of crying.

"no, i'm just telling you that you could be a little bit more helpful and understanding… it's about my family, my mom, mia madre as you used to say! how can't you understand this?"

"i am not understanding enough? how can you say this?"

don't do this, dami, don't manipulate my feelings, at least not you –don't make me more miserable, please.

"i say this because i can only talk with your about this! i trust you only with my problems, my problematic mother and my other shitty things, and now you just say that i should calm down on a problem that means bigger to me than ever?"

"well it's not my problem to have a useless mother!"

it was enough. far enough for you to snap.

"than you know what?",

grabbing your purse and coat,

"fuck you!" with that, you slammed the door and stepped out of the house. you didn't know where to go on the year's coldest day –you only knew that you don't want to stay near anybody right now. maybe renting out a hotel room wasn't a that-bad idea. or going to vic, and block damiano and your mother for the next two days.

trying to call vic, you didn't even noticed that your bump into somebody, pulling together your coat on yourself, you decided to go afoot to the next bus stop, maybe damiano runs after you, but right now you couldn't face him, after everything he said.

well, it's not my problem to have a useless mother. did he think this the whole time, the whole time when you bragged about your family? that that's only your pathetic problem? you couldn't see the screen of your phone from hé blur of your tears –they immediately broke down on your neck and cheek, then freezing in the cold wind, only leaving a chilly, uncomfortable feeling. the snow crashed through the clouds, everything were white and so, so cold, the wind blew in between your coat and sweatshirt –your teeth crashed together as you pleaded to the sky and vic to pick up that phone. your stomach grumbled,

"it's almost half ten, what do you want?"

"vic, oh my god! i'm so glad, can i ask you a little favour?"

"what the fuck, is is it you, y/n? i thought damiano called me this late, he would lose his phone and use yours, the dumbass. what's the problem?"

"can i sleep at you?"

"of cour- why?"

"please, i'll tell you everything, but…" you wailed suddenly, you were surprised too, not to mention vic.

"sweet jesus, was that you? grab a cab and come here, fast! i'm calling damiano."

"no, no please!"

vic didn't respond.

"come here safe, okay?"

"okay. bye, vic."

the line cut off, leaving you there in the winding snow –more five or six streets? you still pondered on damiano's words between tears and shivers, while trying to hug yourself as warmly as you could.

you barely reached the second corner when you heard a humming of a car. can't be a taxi, but then… who's on the streets this late, in this tempestuous weather? excluding me, you thought, could laugh but in a soaked coat, sweater and socks you only wanted to survive until vic's.

turning your aching neck, at first you thought you hallucinate –seeing damiano's black car was nearly a dream, a mirage. does hypothermia kicks in that soon?

as the car approached you, it stopped beside you.

"do you really gonna walk to vic like this? did you call a cab?"

you ignored damiano, walking towards, your bag almost slipped out of your hand.

"let me help you cara mia, i'm sorry. can we talk about this in the car? it's warm in here, too."

stubbornly, with shaking hands, you wiped off the wet locks from your face. hearing a quiet murmur, something like 'okay, that's enough', the door of the car opened, inviting you to sit on the passenger's seat. you stopped the marching, looking at damiano with crossed arms.

"i'm not going anywhere until you get in this car. you can walk to vic, but i'm gonna follow you, and i'm gonna sit in here until you collect enough peace to talk with me."

it warmed your heart a little bit, but the harsh words sung in the back of your head –reluctantly, but slowly you got in the car. damiano didn't hesitate a moment to turn on the child safety lock system as you closed the door. you huffed.

"is it really neccessary?" you asked quietly.

"i don't want you to change your mind when we get back home "he said. "do you need anything? a blanket, a coffee? a tea? i'm texting thomas to boil some water."

"thomas... how? and why?"

"he came for some butter, but you bumped into him, thomo was surprised even that you're that…" –searching for the right words, it was hard and awkward for each of you.

"listen, y/n, i–"

"no, dami, i was just upset and–"

"no, wait! it's my time to apologize. because in the past time, i got carried away. i said things and i said them without thinking about how hurtful they can be. i should be glad, so fucking gratefuo that i have a girlfriend, a lover like you, a lover who nurtures me, who search my lost things even when i can't find them because i'm such a clumsy ass, a lover who shares her deepest secrets and problems with me. a lover who trusts me so much, who accepts my little habits… i know i can't take back the things i said about your mother and your problems, but the least i can do is make you forget about it, and support you with it. can you", damiano said as he covered your cold, tender hands with his big, soft ones. "y/n y/l/n, amore della mia vita, the love of my life, accept my apology about everything i said and did?"

you couldn't stop the blushing, your whole chest warmed up at his words, clinging to his hands.

"yes, i absolutely can. i'm sorry i yelled at you, it was just a shitty day, and my family… well, that's another story."

damiano leaned closer to you, touching your jaw, tucked a cold strand of hair behind your ear, spreading comfort towards your cheeks and eyebrows.

"even with soaked clothes, pale skin and damp hair, you're still the prettiest, angelic thing i've seen in my life, mia dolce bambina."

you didn't need anything to reach up to his lips, yearning to get as much as from his warmth as possible –damiano strokes the back of your head and neck, played with the moist locks.

after the little kissing session, damiano stroked your hand, taking off your coat, giving you his instead.

"let's go home, okay?"

"okay. i love you, damiano."

"i love you more than you could ever think, little angel."

as the two of you reached home, damiano huffed.

"you know, i'm a little bit disappointed in your mother too."

you pulled up your eyebrows, the corner of your lips curling up slowly.

"really? and why?"

"we can't make out in your old bedroom, that could be quite an extra christmas event, don't you think?"

"damiano!!"

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨-𝐦å𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

fuck I still haven't done the rewrite of the Mutant Town AU that I specifically came off hiatus to write, like the Plant Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts were written to prep this au and I just got wildly distracted so uhhhh

yeah the concept is in the link but the gist is that the people and town becoming mutated by constant ectoplasmic contamination, we all know and love this concept right but I'm gonna expand on it

this is a direct result of the portal being opened, but they aren't getting infected from the portal, the issue is that creating a permanent opening into the ghost zone has weakened the veil between their worlds and Amity Park and the Ghost Zone sort of slip in and out of each other constantly

and because ectoplasm responds strongly to emotions (poltergeists being made from atmospheric emotions for example) it all tends to converge very heavily at the school full of hormonal teenagers

so Casper High becomes its own god damn cryptid, the teachers get so jaded about opening the door to a classroom and finding just a whole ass ghost zone on the other side that they just put a sign on the door telling kids to go to a different room, lockers swap contents with other lockers so kids have started putting their names on the inside so they know who's stuff they've just found

this also means the kids get super affected, like super affected, literally, they all get ghost powers, some are just physical mutations, some are just super abilities, or a general increase in natural ability, like a member of the track team getting super speed

it takes a while for Danny and co. to figure this out, Sam and Tucker should have been warning signs as they've spent the most time around ghosts and the ghost zone, but that's why the Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts are important

they have powers, but they thought they came exclusively from outside sources, they had no idea that their abilities were also strengthened and influenced by being highly contaminated by ectoplasm, which is why when one day Mikey sneezes and green acid shoots out of his nose and melts his desk, everyone is a little bit startled

the teachers have long since started using ghost detectors after the time Paulina spent a whole week overshadowed by Kitty, so Mikey gets a check over and other than the usual atmospheric reading Lancer gets nothing especially strong from him

there have been concerns about the gradually increasing ectoplasmic content in the air messing with ghost detector results, the devices have to be recalibrated constantly, so Lancer asks the one and only son of the local ghost hunters in the room if he has some other way to check

Danny's parents make him keep a few protective items in his schoolbag, so he tries some gear on him to see if anything comes flying out, but nothing does, Danny isn't too surprised seeing as he couldn't sense a ghost in the room anyway, but it definitely makes things a little concerning

even if it were a repeat of the Spectra incident and he wasn't being overshadowed, the Fenton's tech would have still gotten rid of whatever was causing this if it were an external influence

Mikey is sent home for the day and his parents are told to keep an eye on him

and then the next week, Star drops a pen off her desk and a strand of her hair whips out to grab it, she's also checked for ghost influence and sent home

a few weeks after that it happens again, a kid on the basketball team makes a leap to the net and stays in the air, they have to call in the cheerleaders to climb on top of each other to reach him and pull him down

Danny has been trying to figure out what's happening from the first moment with Mikey, and his parents have also been getting calls from worried parents who want to know if they can fix whatever's happening to their kids

over the next couple of months, every kid in the school has some kind of ability or mutation, Dash heals whoever he touches, which he discovers after punching Nathan in the face and curing his acne, Paulina turns invisible, which freaks her out at first until she realises it's great for eavesdropping, Wes can conjure fire (because I desperately needed him to have a polarising ability to Danny), Kwan becomes empathic and can feel and influence people's emotions

Valerie also had an early mutation that she didn't know about, when Technus gave her a new suit, her body pretty much just absorbed it as a part of her, Technus had not intended this to happen, and was pretty peeved about it, Valerie found out that she had stolen control over the suit when Technus had a big rant about it during a fight, and she put the pieces together once other kids started developing abilities

this whole thing causes a ton of chaos as kids are struggling to control what they can do, so Danny has to step in and help them out, he often has to run off to change into Phantom in order to protect everyone from an ability that's gone haywire, he ends up pretty much running ghost power training courses after school to help them control themselves

he's also gotten stuck in situations where he's had to step in and help someone without having the time to change forms, meaning he has to make up a cover story about having developed his own powers way before everyone else since he's been living on top of a portal for years, he only tells people about his ice powers

Jazz has always had a tendency to be able to reign in her emotions and keep a cool head, (the only ones who can really push her buttons are Danny and sometimes her parents, at school around other kids who look up to her she's often very in control) meaning she doesn't draw ectoplasm to herself all that much, and though Danny uses the excuse of having lived on top of a ghost portal to explain why he's already so familiar with using his power, it's actually not even remotely true, because the Fentons use specialised air purifiers to keep the atmospheric ectoplasm at a manageable level, the Fenton house ironically has the least atmospheric contamination compared to the rest of the town, that's how Maddie and Jack have had limited mutation to themselves (though they aren't wholly free, they've mostly just gotten physically stronger and tougher)

so even though Jazz develops her power a little earlier than everyone else's, it's not that far ahead, and she actually doesn't even realise she already has one until half the school has developed theirs

Jazz has the power to slow time in a little bubble around herself, she'd been using it without realising while studying, having gotten through hours of work in half that time, she always thought it was just her losing track of time or she was just getting faster at reading, she also spends a lot of time counselling other students and trying to help them sort out their problems, and they'd often comment that they felt like they'd been talking for so much longer than they had, again she just chalked it up to losing track of time

a lot of students had wondered why Danny developed a power early and Jazz hadn't, until someone walked in on Jazz helping a girl through a panic attack in the bathroom, and found them both talking extremely fast, a lot of her friends realised in hindsight that she'd been doing that unwittingly for quite a while, nobody had noticed because she always talked to people privately, so nobody outside her little time bubble had seen it happen

Sam and Tucker come clean about their abilities too, but they also don't give the full rundown, still keeping some things close to the chest to avoid standing out from everyone else

then there's the teachers

adults typically have a better time regulating emotions than teenagers, meaning much like Jazz they aren't drawing as much ectoplasm toward themselves, but this doesn't exempt them from developing something after a while, especially with the heightened stress of managing a school full of volatile super kids

Mr Lancer discovers that he can create shields, after an incident where he jumps in front of some students to protect them from another power gone awry

Tetslaff ends up with a sonic ability, able to project her voice like a megaphone (yes this is a Coach Boomer from Sky High reference don't @ me), Principal Ishiyama develops a physical mutation, growing to twice her size, she likes that she can tower over the students while delivering speeches, but she doesn't like having to stoop through doors all the time, she has the one to her office resized, along with her chair and desk

so as you can imagine, the town ends up erupting into chaos, a lot of kids very much misuse their abilities, Danny does his best as Phantom to teach people to be responsible, but sometimes he has to resort to literally kicking their asses to get them to straighten up

but for the most part, a ton of kids were already looking up to him, and are generally pretty happy to follow his example, especially the more popular kids, it's generally considered not very cool to get your ass kicked by Phantom, so weirdly enough a lot of kids get peer pressured into not causing any real damage or injury with their powers

this doesn't mean they don't absolutely misuse them, they're just more subtle about it

until a ghost shows up, a lot of the kids are more than happy to let loose to protect themselves and their friends, and Phantom for the most part is happy to let them, with some supervision of course, he still has to make sure nobody gets too hurt (including the ghosts)

the entire debacle makes Danny's life simultaneously a whole lot easier AND so much more fucking stressful

[moribundanchor]

The Pelle/Dani Receipts: Post One, Introduction

Hello and welcome to Rimanez and AnonLady present: Midsommar: The Pelle/Dani Receipts. 

Are you sitting comfortably? Got your tea with special properties, rune-stitched white linen solstice clothing, and flower crown? Then let’s begin. Skål!

We are going to step you through the film more-or-less chronologically, detailing evidence supporting the Pelle/Dani ship in dialogue and behavior, cinematography, costuming, set design, and artwork featured throughout the film. This will include not just the signs that Pelle loves Dani--compelling, but low-hanging fruit when discussing this ship--but that Dani has feelings for Pelle, that their onscreen intimacy indicates a friendship, at least, that is independent of their individual relationships to Christian, and that Dani and Pelle are destined for each other. We should note that Ari Aster is meticulous, so meticulous, and it’s possible there are still things we have missed and perhaps some of our interpretations you may disagree with. That’s fine! We’ve got a lot to work with here. Additionally, while we will touch on elements relating to Dani’s destiny as May Queen, we will concentrate on those elements that pertain to her destiny with Pelle specifically.

There will be 12 individual posts, which Rimanez and I will be posting over the course of the next week or so as we get them ready, two at a time, with each post hyperlinked to the succeeding post, and then at the end, we’ll have a convenient table of hyperlinks.

All gifs and high quality images have been wrangled by @amy-amell. Rune expertise will be provided by @daydreamers.

Before we get into specific evidence, a brief word about general motifs to be aware of in Midsommar. These are not things that directly speak to the Pelle/Dani romance, but will feature in scenes we discuss and contribute to their meaning. These include:

The color yellow. Yellow generally relates to Dani’s journey, her yellow brick road. For example: the prevalence of the color in the Ardor house, particularly in pictures of Dani and the flower arrangement over the bedside picture of her; the hose that Terri uses to pipe the gas fumes into the upstairs is yellow; the path through the woods to Hårga features a thickening carpet of yellow flowers; the yonic sun gate to Hårga is yellow; Dani’s flower crown during the competition is mainly yellow; the Fire Temple, of course, is bright yellow.

The sun. While they’re not sun worshipers, per se, the sun is the ultimate symbol of Hårgan belief in the Great Cycle. It also effectively doubles as a symbol for Dani’s destiny to join the family at the end, folding in the significance of the color yellow. Also note that in Old Norse myth, the sun is female and the moon is male, as opposed to Western traditions, which makes sense since, while it’s not explicitly stated, Hårga seems to be a matriarchy, with Siv as head honcho and the May Queen ultimately given the power of life and death in the Fire Temple ceremony.

The color blue. Blue generally relates to the Hårgans. You will notice it in their special solstice clothes’ embroidery, but also in sneakier places, like the lit trees behind Christian as he approaches Dani’s apartment to, sigh, sorta hold her in the beginning.

Flowers and plants. Flowers, plants everywhere. Not just real ones, but design elements, too, everywhere from Dani’s parents’ room to Hårga. Flowers, of course, have their own subtle language -- brilliantly and comprehensively explored in this post -- not unlike the Hårgans, but you will notice their presence waxes as Dani comes home to Hårga. In addition to the individual meanings of certain plants and flowers, note their generic connotations of sex, nature, growth, and balance. As Pelle muses in the meadow, “Nature just knows instinctually how to stay in harmony.” And that’s the essence of Dani’s journey: finding the harmony and balance she lacks.

Mirrors. Mirrors indicate something going on beneath the surface. We first see Dani’s parents, apparently sleeping, reflected in their bedroom mirror as Dani’s call goes to voicemail, only to learn they were actually dead. Christian’s lies to Dani, his friends, and himself are reflected in mirrors at Dani’s apartment and his own. Dani has her terrifying glimpse of Terri in the bathroom mirror. We first meet Maja primping in a mirror, and we soon learn she’s not just primping but primping for a plot. And most importantly for this piece, we see Pelle reflected in a mirror while sketching the newly-crowned May Queen, but of course, even in that idyllic moment, he is still plotting to get Christian out of the way. Mirrors = look again.

OK, with those principal motifs set to one side, let’s look at general underlying evidence of Pelle and Dani destiny, shall we?

Names. Dani Ardor. Ardor means love or passion and it comes from the Latin word ardere: to burn. Her first name, like sister Terri’s, is a male-sounding female name, a time-honored convention for Final Girls in horror movies. It also recalls Danny from The Shining (1980), a film that is referenced visually in the soaring overhead shots of the journey to Hårga, but also in the design of Dani’s bedsheet in the Hårgan Youth House.  

It’s also worth noting that Dani is a common short form of Danielle, which literally means “God is my judge.” Taken alongside Dani’s ultimate judging of Christian, that’s...pretty suggestive. (Big thanks to @henrys-side-blog​ for pointing this out!)

Pelle is a name on its own and a pet form of Per, both Swedish forms of Peter, from the Greek petros, stone or rock, i.e. the foundation. It brings to mind the Ättestupa, the ultimate symbol of Hårgan unity, and the way that Pelle offers himself as a support for Dani, too. There’s also the association with Peter, the disciple who denied Christ. I mean...his romantic rival’s name is Christian, although Ari Aster says there are lots of ways to read Christian’s naming...which he won’t tell us. “He is thrown to the lions, so to speak.”

Lastly, this may just be a coincidence, but Dani has unique pronunciations of both Pelle and Christian that differ from the way the rest of the cast pronounces their names. (OK, I think Mark says Pell-ay once.) This is in spite of Florence Pugh’s flawless American accent, and it’s not replicated with any characters that aren’t Dani’s love interests. It’s just weird.

Dani and Pelle’s Costuming. After arriving, Pelle initially only dons a Hårgan shirt while retaining the rest of his outsider clothing. Dani dons a Hårgan apron initially before changing into full Hårgan costume for the maypole dance. Their costuming throughout the movie, as with many of their movements and behaviors, show a continuous synchrony that also charts Dani’s assimilation into the family. It’s worth noting that Pelle doesn’t kiss her until they are both in full Hårgan dress.

Runes are another big underlying source of meaning, but frankly, they are so complex and multivalent, including elements that we only really discovered while working on this post, they are going to get their own section at the end, where all of our contextual evidence will help guide interpretation.

OK, let’s crack the film open and find us a love story.

The Pelle/Dani Receipts Masterpost

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 2

Thomas X Reader

4584

Summary: Reunions aren’t easy with dead people. Old feelings begin to stir in the privacy of The Garrison Pub but it’s hard to rebuild what time broke.

By: @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas groaned to himself. He’d been nursing a headache for the past three days since he’d asked Grace out to dance. He was pretty sure it was stress related, and the fact that he was witnessing Arthur get up in arms again only solidified the notion.

He was going on about retaliating against the police and being tired of all the harassment. Normally Thomas would agree, but something about this copper set him on edge and quite frankly this needed to be dealt with carefully. As he was leaning forward to voice his opinions, a loud banging startled the entirety of the Shlebys onto their feet.

“What in the blood blazes is that?” Arthur growled, his hand resting on a small pistol.

Danny’s muffled shouts filtered through the door, “Thomas she’s real this time! Get out here and see for yourself. She’s not a ghost.”

Aunt Pol’s eyes narrowed, “Isn’t that?”

Thomas waved her question aside , “I’ll handle this. John, brass knuckles on.”

A small flurry of activity happened over his shoulder as Thomas reached for the doorknob. Not much got Danny this worked up these days and even his affinity for chaos couldn’t handle everything Danny threw at him.

He swung the door open just as Danny’s hand was coming down to deliver another thunderous knock. It paused in the air mere inches from Thomas’ nose.

“Alright, what is it this time Danny.” Thomas’ voice was a bit gruffer than normal. While he hardly slept, it only seemed to be getting worse lately. Which probably also contributed to his throbbing headache. However even Thomas couldn’t deny that relief flooded him once he saw Danny’s ear splitting grin.

Danny practically shouted, “She’s back Thomas. Y/N was never dead, I...I found her on the street.”

Thomas felt his face fall, “Danny…” 

That when he saw it. A mop of curls swiveling back and forth as the girl tucked under Danny’s arm tried to absorb her surroundings. Bullocks!

“Danny put her down for God’s sake.” Thomas reached out, prying the girl From Danny’s grip. “I’m so sorry miss. He was in the war, and he’s having a rough time of it.”

He had said the words a hundred times and a small part of him suspected he would say them a thousand more before his day came. But the thought went silent, along with a dozen others, as the girl righted herself and shoved her mass of curls out of her face. There before him stared back the wide eyes that haunted his dreams.

Thomas, no matter what happens, I want you to live. To go home to your Aunt Pol you’re always talking about. And raise those horses you love so much.

Only if you marry me.

“I… I know Thomas I was there.” 

He barely heard the words. The whole world seemed to expand infinitely and then collapse all at once. Question after question assaulted him in a vain attempt to make some sense out of the impossibility before him.

Y/N was there, alive. She stood before him, not drained of color like it was in his dreams, with cheeks wind burned [is that what it’s called?] bright red. Small hands clutched an uncased violin. Eyes that sparkled even in the dimmest of light, searching for something in him he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give.

Thomas reached out, his fingertips barely brushing Y/N’s cheek. He didn’t know what he expected, but she didn’t pull away. When he came in contact with warm skin something inside him shattered. His world began to tilt and a small voice in the back of his head warned him he might faint. But he was Thomas Shelby, and Shelbys didn’t faint. 

It wasn’t until Danny spoke that he realized he was shaking, “She’s real right? I...I didn’t grab some random girl off the street did I?”

“No, Danny.” Thomas’ voice was barely a whisper. “I see her too.”

A hand on his shoulder managed to drag Thomas back to earth, even if just a little. 

Aunt Pol stood beside him, her eyes picking apart an untold story even as she spoke, “Thomas, I think you owe us an introduction to your friend here.”

Y/N glanced between the two. She had heard stories of Aunt Pol several times throughout her deployment and knew two things for certain. Aunt Pol respected a strong personality with conviction. However, there would be no disrespect shown towards her or her family and quite frankly Y/N had no idea what counted as disrespect here.

So she simply saluted, “Corporal Y/L/N. Reporting for duty.”

Aunt Pol raised her eyebrow, “You? A Corporal?”

“She served in the same company with Danny, Freddie, and I.” The words didn’t sound like they belonged to himself but Thomas didn’t see anyone else speak.

“How on earth did you convince anyone to let you join?” Aunt Pol stood a little straighter.

Y/N chuckled, “Oh, I absolutely fucked the physician.”

Arthur barking laughter suddenly filled the room, “Well I’ll be damned. Most people didn’t want to be there. I sure as hell know I didn’t. Why would you go and sneak in like that?”

“Well, we’ve all got idiot brothers to look after, so there’s that.” Y/N shrugged. Danny snickered over he should as Arthur’s face fell. Aunt Pol on the other hand was smiling. 

Thomas glanced around, the situation having gotten quite out of control at this point, “Alright, either you two get in here or we need to go out there and quite frankly I’d rather have this conversation in here.”

Over the next several minutes Y/N told her story, or at least an abridged version of it. Of how she joined. Her job amongst Thomas’ company and her subsequent court martial when she was shot.

“And how is it you stand before us now instead of rotting away in some prison?” Aunt Pol had taken over the conversation. Or more accurately, interrogation. 

Thomas was silently grateful that he wasn’t in charge for once. He was too shell-shocked to gather a single coherent thought let alone a line of questions that actually meant anything. Though there were those questions Aunt Pol didn’t ask. The more personal ones that burned his tongue even as he held it. But he would have for this what he forced himself to have in all things, patients.

“It was the price for my silence. It’s hard to convince the public they should support a war that irrevocably changes their lives on a good day. But how are you going to convince them you’re routing out German spies when they can’t even spot a woman right under their nose? It’d be a blow to their reputation they couldn’t afford to take.”

Aunt Pol’s eyes suddenly narrowed as she finally asked a question that had been eating at Thomas’ soul this whole time, “And you didn’t send a correspondence of any kind to inform your company that you were alive?”

Y/N looked down, “I sent several. Though after I didn’t hear back from anyone I suspected they weren’t getting through. I had to wait until everyone was out of an army camp at the very least, which meant the war had to end. And finding everyone afterwards? I’ve been traveling for almost a year now, and Danny is the first person I’ve bumped into.”

Thomas couldn’t look at her. All he could focus on were the grains on wood on the table. A part of him couldn’t quite wrap his head around that this was real. 

A knock on the door suddenly broke the spell of hushed voices. Everyone glanced around before Danny reached behind him and cracked open the door. Grace stood there, two bottles on a tray full of glasses.

“H..Hello, I figured everyone could use some refreshments?”

Thomas’ eyes locked with hers. Something in his expression made Grace’s fragile smile fall. She knew something was wrong, but she had no idea just how sideways things had gone.

〜 

Later that night, the Shelby family left the Garrison Pub, their new guest wrestling her luggage from Danny’s grasp. 

Thomas glanced at Y/N. He’d barely said a word to her. He didn’t know what to say. But her easy smiles that she cast towards himself and Danny lifted a weight in his heart. 

Finally he asked, “What are you doing tonight?”

She spun around, “Oh, well. I’ve got a job in a couple days at this fancy place. I was probably gonna go swindle a dress out of some high society idiot.”

A deep rumbling laughter escaped Thomas, “Grab a fancy cigar for me?”

“Always.” She waved as she disappeared into the night.

After she was gone Thomas glanced towards Aunt Pol, “So, what do you think?”

“I like her.”

〜

Later that night Grace slunk down the streets. She wore one of her better outfits but she still felt underdressed compared to the other patrons. This opera house meetup was Inspector Cambell’s idea. Grace wasn’t much of a fan. It was too open and while Thomas wasn’t inherently wealthy they didn’t know enough about him to guarantee he wouldn’t be here.

She let the concierge lead her to the booth. The whole conversation passed in a blur of nerves and paranoia.

Grace was so stressed had almost forgotten the entire reason she’d agreed to this, “I almost forgot. A new face has made an appearance. Danny Owen burst through the door carrying her under his arm and interrupted a family meeting. They were in there for a couple hours talking. I’m not sure what her name is but I’ll get that to you as soon as I can. Here's a sketch”

As she handed Inspector Campbell the small note the hairs stood up on the back of Grace’s neck as she spoke. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing around searching for a Peaky Blinder amongst the crowd. She didn’t see anyone. But that didn’t mean no one saw her.

Y/N leaned forward, her brow furrowed. Wasn’t that the barmaid from Thomas’s bar? And who was she talking to?

“Is everything ok?” the young man beside Y/N asked. His hand slid to her lower back, his fingertips brushing over the line her underwear created under the cloth. 

Instead of slapping him Y/N flashed him her most charming smile, “It's nothing. You might want to keep your hands to yourself. The anticipation is part of the experience.”

He flashed her a wicked smile. Y/N silently debated on whether or not she should take all his money or simply steal his clothes while he was tied to a pole.

Y/N strolled home in the darkness of night. For such an industrious city, Birmingham was proving to be quite peaceful in the early hours of the morning. Nothing dared break the spell that had blanketed the region some time after midnight. Only the stars and mist were witness to her every step.

She silently congratulated herself on her new dress even as Y/N pulled her threadbare shawl closer around herself. She was in desperate need of several pieces of clothing. And housing. And food. As if on cue her stomach growled loud enough to nearly echo down the nearby alleyway.

Y/N glared down in the general direction, "Hush you."

Her words meant nothing in the face of hunger. It only gained power after she acknowledged its existence gnawing at her insistently. When Aunt Pol had been asking her questions earlier she'd answered them easily but they definitely danced around one of the most important ones. How long had she been in town?

The all too real answer was not long enough. Not long enough to find a job nor a place to stay. Currently her small pack of things were stashed in a hidey hole she'd carved out for herself the first night. Now all she had to do was make it all the way down there without ruining her dress.

Easy right?

She picked her way back carefully through the muddy streets. The air itself became cooler as she approached the river. The Cut, Thomas had called it back in the trenches. As the squat building that housed the Garrison Pub came into view she gave a soft sigh of relief.

While it was inconvenient to make it all the way back here from across town, she'd chosen to leave her stuff here because she was fairly certain she'd get it back even if it was stolen. Thomas just had that kind of way with people.

Unbidden, Y/N's mind slowly wandered back to their reunion this morning. She didn't know what she'd expected but that wasn't exactly it. She scowled at her own girlish inclinations.

She "died" in a man's arms and expected him to be completely fine with her showing up out of this air? Y/N's heart began to ache as she recalled the look Thomas had given her when he finally realized who it was. The pain that had etched itself deep into his features. The quiet resignation that came after dealing with heavy burdens day after day. Had her death done that to him? Or the war?

Again she kicked herself, the hubris she'd gained in the last three years sometimes even astounded her. Bending down to uncover her few possessions from behind a small mound of bricks.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her.

"Out a bit late, aren't you?"

She yelped, spinning around to confront her attacker. The light cast a shadow over the slim figure of a man, the only illumination coming from his lit cigarette. Despite the years she could still recognize that silhouette anywhere.

"Thomas? What the hell are you doing up this time of night? Scaring the shit out of me no less?" She huffed indignantly.

He stepped forward in the pale moonlight raising an eyebrow as he closed the distance between them. His eyes lingered on her, moving up and down slowly.

While Y/N didn't like the scrutiny, she knew he needed this so she waited. After a few moments he held out his hand.

"Come on Y/L/N. You haven't eaten all day and Harry usually leaves a little something in the back for us. Just in case."

Y/N smiled, "Been following me Shelby?"

He nodded unashamed as he gripped her luggage, "Saw that pretty boy you snagged. Good mark. Good dress."

Y/N prayed to whatever god still existed that he couldn't see her cheeks flush. She took a deep breath to steady her voice, "Think I can catch a few more in it?"

Thomas chuckled as he unlocked the Garrison Pub, "Aunt Pol always assumed that it was the war that honed my conman skills. Should I tell her it was you instead?"

"Only if it gets me on her good side. Though I don't think that I've done anything that's so bad." Y/N let out a sigh of relief as they entered the shelter of the pub.

Her nose and cheeks had long ago turned numb in the chill of the night. Her shawl barely held enough body heat to keep her from shivering but stepping inside was like returning to a warm bed with a sleepy lover. A welcome distraction from the future.

Thomas continued, “Not so bad? You convinced a whole regiment that if they drank vinegar with their food it would turn them blond.”

Y/N leaned against the wall, “Commander Hopper said he needed to get rid of it.”

Thomas turned towards her with the smallest smile on his face. Something about him had changed between this afternoon and now. His posture was less rigid, his features less guarded. Then the light hit his eyes. His pupils were blown out so far there was almost no color left between them and the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

“You smuggled in a whole crate of wine, right under Hopper’s nose.”

Y/N stiffened as he approached, “It was Christmas.”

“You stole the Acquisition Officer’s boots, wore them around yourself until he replaced Jerimiah’s.”

“Now, he was just being a prick.” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper as Thomas stopped barely an inch away.

His eyes were glazed over as they wandered over her features. Over and over they passed across the same area, an addled mind trying to remember every significant detail. The spell only came undone when he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers.

When he spoke again his voice was gravely, “If I kiss you will you taste like blood and dirt?”

“Thomas?”

“If I open my eyes again will your face be burned by the funeral pyre?” his voice cracked as he shuddered.

 His hands were on either side of Y/N’s head, trapping her against his body. The heat that passed between them almost seemed to burn compared to the early autumn air outside. His body was a wall against hers, a bit softer than she remembered but that was probably due to the fact that he wasn’t being malnourished anymore.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t move right now. That she should let him overcome this on his own. It didn’t stop her from reaching up, letting her arms circle around him. “Thomas, it’s me. I’m here.”

His eyes slowly opened, traveling up her face, his jaw set in determination. Thomas shifted his weight, detaching one hand from the wall to cradle the back of her neck. Y/N froze at  the gentle touch. Her skin was still cold beneath his fingers. His hot breath mingled with hers as the whole world came down to a single point. 

“Say my name.” 

“Wha… Tommy?"

His lips brushed against hers. So gentle it was as if Eurus himself had come down for a taste. Y/N gasped softly as she leaned just ever so slightly closer. That was all the hinting Thomas needed, his lips were suddenly crushed against hers. His hand tilting her head up just enough so he could taste her. His tongue brushed against her lips, asking for entry. Y/N answered by pressing her body against his, parting her lips.

Seconds later Thomas had her lifted into the air, his hands digging into her thighs as he pinned her against the wall. While he held her aloft, he wasn’t the one in control of the kiss. At some point Y/N returned the kiss. It was something wild born out of the fear and pain that had built up over the years. 

It was a kiss that rent open the walls they’d built around themselves letting the shattered pieces of their souls lie bare for each other to see. It was need. It was desperation. It was a blossoming love stomped out by the heel of war. 

After a long moment Y/N pulled away, gasping softly as he pressed his head into the curve of her shoulder. They stood there in the barest of light, catching their breath. Letting what had just happened sink in.

It was Thomas who broke the silence, “I...I guess you are real. FUCK.”

Fuck indeed.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut fighting back the tears. The want for Thomas was still there demanding attention. Close proximity made it all the harder to stop. However, a familiar taste lingered on her lips now. Opium. She could not in good conscience keep on going.

She almost didn’t recognize her own voice as she spoke, “Thomas, can you put me down please?” She hated herself for sounding weak, but the day had been a long one and quite frankly she wasn’t sure how much more she could give it.

He nodded, setting her down gently and taking a step back. Allowing her the space she needed to collect her thoughts. Y/N pressed her lips together in an attempt to figure out what to say, but caught herself wincing. Somewhere in their heated exchange they’d become bruised and sensitive. Thomas instinctively reached out to brush his thumb across her lower lip. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time. “I..I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath before yanking back his hand like it was on fire, “I’m so sorry.”  He spun on his heel suddenly stalking toward the bar, “I promised you food.”

“That’s really not-”

“If you tell me not to again I’ll just have to go buy you enough groceries for a whole month. Now go sit down; I’ll have it out in a moment.” He disappeared into a back room Y/N hadn’t noticed earlier.

Y/N didn’t trust herself to stand especially after all the physical activity for the day. She stretched slightly, testing out her muscles while keeping most of her weight against the wall. After a distinct lack of pain, she stood and slowly made her way to a nearby table. After sitting down she arranged herself in the way she knew created the least amount of stress on her limbs. She’d be damned if she kissed Thomas and collapsed on him in the same five minutes.

A soft hum wafted towards her accompanied by the smell of food heating in an oven. The tune was one she recognized from her time in the trenches. It was one she’d made up for her company to bolster their spirits on a particularly gruesome day. She was surprised that Thomas still sang it at all.

A few minutes later Thomas returned with a bowl of soup and a fresh chunk of bread. Y/N could practically feel her jaw drop.

She grasped the hot bowl that was thrusted at her hoping to warm her hands, “What the hell is all this?”

Thomas shrugged sitting opposite of her, “I can’t feed my friends?”

“Fresh loaves of bread that feel like they came out of the oven five minutes ago? You know how much I love bread; this isn’t just feeding your friends. It’s handing me tasty gold.”

A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. “It’s a secret from my mum’s side of the family. Besides Aunt Pol would have a fit if I handed you anything less.” 

Y/N was about to dig in when she registered the fact that there was only one bowl. “Aren’t you having any?”

He shook his head. “I ate. Plus your stomach has been growling non stop since I brought that in here. I’m starting to get concerned that you haven’t eaten in days.”

Rather than confirm his suspicions Y/N shrugged and dug in. Though she still split the bread in half and handed it to him.

He gave her a reluctant smile and ate with her, occasionally dipping the bread in the soup.

When Y/N was done eating Thomas whisked away her bowl before she could even think to stand and take care of it herself. Upon returning he found her grabbing her luggage.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Y/N shrugged, “Dunno, but this is a pub not a hotel. I can’t stay here”

“Don’t you have a place to stay?”

Y/N paused. She didn’t know the area well enough to make something up so she just opted for the truth, “I haven’t been in town long enough to find anything. I had enough time to get my first job set up but Danny dragged me away from getting enough money for a hotel tonight.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have money for a place yet.”

Y/N shook her head despite the fact that it wasn’t a question.

“Well I’m not letting you go out there in the cold if that’s what you’re thinking.” He crossed the space between them in a fraction of a second, pilfering Y/N luggage directly from her grasp.

Y/N lunged for her case, “Hey! What exactly do you plan on doing then? Taking me back to your room? Because I can tell you right now that’s not a good idea.”

He hefted the case into the air with little effort. “You’ll be staying here. There’s rooms upstairs.”

“I won’t be some charity case, Thomas Shelby.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Y/F/N.” He walked back towards the door he’d disappeared in earlier, but instead of going in he began jogging up a flight of stairs.

Y/N stared after him in mild horror. She really didn’t think she could handle stairs tonight, but what choice did she have? If she didn’t follow him he’d be back wondering what on earth was keeping her so long. So she walked over to the stairs, her back stiff but not protesting. She thanked the gods for small miracles and began to climb.

After a minute or two she crested the last flight, letting out a slow breath to ease the tension that had gathered along her spine on the way up. Thomas was down a skinny hallway fumbling with a set of keys. 

He spoke at the door refusing to look at her more than he had to, “This whole floor is typically meant for employees, but Harry’s got a family and Grace has her own place. So you’ll more often than not have the whole floor to yourself. I do sleep here sometimes, but that’s few and far between.”

Y/N thought back to earlier that night, “Does Grace live with her parents?”

Thomas shrugged, not really paying attention, “I don’t think she has parents anymore.”

Y/N slowly closed the distance between them, Thomas’s antics becoming down right jittery as she got closer. Finally the door opened.

Inside was a small room with  a full bed taking up most of the space. There were no blankets or sheets to be seen but the layer of dust on everything signaled that no one had lived here in a long while. Two small doors were the only things that interrupted the dull wooden walls.

“It’s perfect.” Y/N grinned. 

He looked at her like she was crazy but instead of answering he set her luggage beside the bed along with her violin. He disappeared as she wandered in. The air was musty and everything needed cleaning but it was more than she’d hoped for when she had gotten onto the train headed for Birmingham.

Thomas reappeared a couple minutes later and threw a pillow and sheets onto the bed. With a flourish he wrapped the duvet around Y/N’s shoulders, getting a startled yell in return. He smiled fondly as she struggled with the mass of cloth, his features returning to normal as she emerged.

“This is all too much, Thomas. I..How much is the rent?”

He answered.

Her cheeks flushed, “That’s way too low, even for living on this side of town.” 

Thomas shrugged, “I expect you to play on Saturdays. Grace requested we allow singing and I think using your violin to draw in the customers will more than make up for the discount.” 

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “You didn’t allow singing? In a pub?”

He shrugged before handing her the key and turning to leave. He was almost to the top of the stairs when he stopped.

“Again, I’m sorry about tonight.”

Y/N barely heard him and honestly she wasn’t sure she was supposed to. She didn’t reply and instead went about making her new bed.

[oceanselevenism]

If you're still doing them maybe number 12 with both the ocean's siblings and their partners?

hell yeah!! i’ve put it under the cut :)) it is Very Tangentially holiday-sweater-related but it is too long to not post now! hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :))

It’s the first Christmas they’ve spent together in... nearly a decade and a half, actually. The years had flown by, blurring into a mess of run-ins and arguments and you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but hey, Danny can’t fault his sister for wanting to make up for lost time. No, he can’t fault her (after all, if she had been the one to fake her death, he’d probably have moved into her house for a week, just to make sure she didn’t do it again) but he can make fun of her, so that’s what he does. “Aw, you really did miss me,” he says when she gives him and Rusty perfunctory hugs on her way into his house (Lou just claps them both on the shoulder, and he’s not sure whether to feel snubbed or relieved). “I can’t believe my dear sister actually cares,” he tells her when she brings him a mug of cocoa, ingredients nabbed from some billionaire in Germany. “Pure family bonding for the whole family,” he remarks when she goes off on a drunken, expletive-filled tangent about the Met Gala’s security over a game of poker (they’ve given up on trying to enforce the no-cheating rule, and he’s pretty sure Lou takes the opportunity to peek at Debbie’s cards). But in all honesty, he can’t keep up the ribbing; it really is good to see her, even if she definitely gets along better with Rusty (she’s told him as much, and right to his face, too) and the third day ends in a bitter, wine-fueled not-argument about their mother and their father and they themselves. But on the fourth morning Danny gets up early (it’s five in the goddamn morning, why the fuck has Lou already left a note on the counter saying gone on a run) to make latkes, and when Debbie comes downstairs she scoops out a dollop of his favorite sour cream instead of her usual applesauce, so unless her latke preferences have done a complete 180 since the last time he’s seen her, they’ve forgiven each other.

She and Lou volunteer to go on a grocery run that evening, and Danny’s glad; he hasn’t had the chance to jump Rusty’s bones in, like, five days (turns out cleaning up for houseguests takes up way more time than anticipated) (hey, the only people they’ve had over in years have been the crew from the Benedict job, and he’s heard Reuben threaten to shit on Turk’s feet, they don’t need to clean up for them). And for a minute, as Rusty pins him up next to the to-be-composted bag that is currently overflowing with potato scraps, the only thought in his head is the usual why didn’t we do this sooner. But then Rusty pulls back-- “Rus,” Danny complains-- and he tilts his head in that We Need To Talk manner. Which would be hot, if not for the fact that Rusty probably wants to talk about Debbie.

“You’re good, right?”

“We were never on bad terms.”

“Liar.”

“Well, hostile terms, maybe,” Danny amends. “But never bad.”

Rusty shifts, adjusting his forearms so it’s more like they’re just two good pals having a conversation three inches from each others’ faces instead of two good pals about to do very unsanitary things in a kitchen, and says, “I think you’re putting too much water under the bridge.”

“What am I, a Dutch engineer?”

“You’re very funny.”

“I know I am. Now, are we gonna--”

The door opens. Danny swears. “We were gone for twenty minutes,” Debbie says. “Are you that desperate?” Danny regrets going for the open-concept first floor, and he regrets it even more as Rusty pushes himself off with an air of utmost nonchalance.

“Here,” Lou says, lobbing a ball of fabric at Rusty. Her aim is remarkable, and Danny almost asks if she ever played softball before deciding he likes his well-being more than teasing his sister’s motorcycle-riding, brass-knuckle-owning girlfriend. It’s fine; next to him, Rusty huffs an amused laugh at the unsaid comment anyway. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

Rusty unfolds the fabric to reveal a truly hideous (and possibly offensive) Christmas sweater. It’s got red sleeves, a green torso, and a large, colorful fruitcake emblazoned on the stomach. Above it, in red and yellow, is text that reads FRUIT CAKE. “I love it,” Rusty says, pressing his lips together in that way that says he’s trying his damndest not to laugh. “It’s perfect.”

Lou opens her coat to reveal her own sweater, hers saying Ho Ho Homo. “I thought the theme was appropriate.”

“And for you, dearest brother,” Debbie says, pulling an atrociously-colored wad of wool out of a paper bag and chucking it at him, “you get the best of both worlds.”

With a mounting sense of horror, he recalls the year that he insisted on putting teal and orange streamers across the house, because it’s Hanukkah and Christmas mixed! That was the last year their parents had lived in the same house; Danny used to joke that it had been the final nail in the coffin for their mother. He pinches an edge of the cloth between two fingers and lets the rest fall open. It’s a Miami Dolphins holiday sweater. A teal-and-orange, festively-patterned Miami Dolphins sweater. Oh, his Boston-bred father would be frothing at the mouth. “We’re in Canada,” Danny says, equal parts shocked and awed. “How the hell did you get this here so quick? We were supposed to be meeting in Quebec until three days ago--”

“Danny, please learn what priority shipping is,” Debbie says. “Now c’mon. Wear it.”

There’s no way he can back out of this. If he refuses, she’ll just play the I thought you were dead card. He’s never regretted a decision more.

He puts on the sweater. Rusty-- his partner, his right hand, the love of his life-- wolf-whistles.

“I’m divorcing you,” Danny announces.

“Don’t worry,” Lou says with a grin, and is that her phone oh fuck she’s got a picture-- “Debbie, take off your coat.”

With the air of someone who has suffered the weight of the world, Debbie shrugs off her jacket. She’s wearing a matching sweater, and the dolphin on this one has a lovingly-embroidered smiling mouth stitched into it. Danny tries very, very hard not to laugh. “Shut it,” Debbie warns him.

“Oh, I’m not saying a thing,” Danny replies.

“We actually did get groceries,” Lou says, turning back to the door, “so--”

“Lemme give you a hand,” Rusty says. “Let these two bask in the joy of their new sweaters.”

“Fuck off,” Danny and Debbie say in unison. Rusty grins, cheery as ever, and leaves Danny’s side to follow Lou out the door.

“Great gift,” Danny says. “I’ll be laughed at by Reuben for the rest of my days.”

Debbie snorts, walking into the kitchen and rooting around in his cabinets. “Well, actually he’d-- wait, please tell me you didn’t, like, have gross old people se--”

“Shut up, Deborah,” Danny replies, feeling his neck heat up. “I’m only two years older than you. And no.” He refrains from adding on a “not this time.”

“Thank God,” Debbie says, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. “Anyway. Reuben’s not gonna laugh at you, he’s just gonna talk about your embarrassing baby stories in whatever groupchat you people have.”

Danny wonders how his baby sister got to be cooler than him. It’s very distressing. “That’s worse.”

“Yep,” she says, putting the pitcher down and picking her now-full glass up. She leans on the wall across from him, sipping her water, and narrows her eyes at him. “Are we, y’know... good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Danny says. Besides the thirty years of vaguely pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Debbie says. “But... I’d just like to make sure. ‘Cause you’re the only not-completely-insufferable blood relation I have.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment; Danny picks at a loose teal thread, trying to think of how best to phrase the thoughts rattling around in his head. “I don’t hate you,” he finally says. “And I don’t dislike you, either. You’re a pretty good sister. And a great thief.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m not gonna say it back, ‘cause then you’re gonna get an inflated ego.”

“Works for me,” Danny says, grinning a little.

“I guess it’s just... I mean, I let all the old resentment get in the way of, y’know. Having a decent relationship, personally or professionally.”

Danny nods. He’s still got the scar from the time they both went after the Ruby of the Isle; he’d won, but just barely, and only because he had Rusty and she hadn’t found Lou. But at the end of the day, neither of them have tried to kill the other, and they still did grow up together, playing in Atlantic City casinos and building sand castles under the boardwalk. “I think we’re too old for that now.”

“You’re the old one here,” Debbie replies, no bite in the remark.

“Only two years,” he reminds her. “But I did the same thing as you, letting petty grudges get in the way of family, and for that I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.”

“Thanks, Debs.” He frowns. “They’re taking a really long time to get the groceries, aren’t they?”

As if summoned, the door opens, and Rusty and Lou, each with a measly two bags in their hands, walk in. And Rusty has his phone in his hands. “Rus, I swear--”

“Too late,” Rusty grins, as the shutter sound rings out through the living room. “That outfit has already been immortalized.”

“Have I already said I’m divorcing you? I’m divorcing you.”

“Does it count as fratricide if he’s your brother-in-law?” Debbie asks.

“Disproportionate reactions,” Rusty accuses. “Besides, I’ve already sent it to Linus.”

Danny’s eyes widen. “Not Linus.”

“You heard me.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Linus Caldwell himself, consisting of a single thumbs-up emoji and two grinning cats. “You’re all terrible people. Terrible, terrible people.”

(the sweater rusty is wearing is real) (as is lou’s) (and the ocean siblings’)

[ziracona]

Who of the DBD original killers do you think would be cool to see in horror movies? What characters do you think have the most potential for a film and what do you think it should/could be like?

Interesting question! Let’s see: Lisa, Sally, Philip, Max, Evan, Herman, Anna, Kenneth, Rin, Frank/Julie/Susie/Joey, Adiris, Danny (kind of), Kazan, Caleb, Talbot, and the Deshayes.

Hmmmm. Danny would work the least well as an original product, because he’s also a Scream expy thing. And then I also don’t think Talbot would work well outside a very DbD like in-universe heavy story, because he just has so much realm context backstory.

Out of the others, they all have potential. Basically none of the sympathetic ones would work as standalone horror characters, because they just didn’t like, /do/ murders before in-realm or live horror lives. The exceptions being Charlotte, Legion, Anna, Max, and Lisa. A lot of the others are definitely interesting enough to be really cool to watch their backstory lives, just, it wouldn’t be traditional horror. Charlotte and Lisa wouldn’t be the antagonists, but they /did/ both live complex horror lives before the realm, and there’s a lot of tragic potential there. Anna, Max, and Legion are all fairly sympathetic killers, but they /did/ live horror experiences before their time in-realm, so they have potential too. Out of them, I think Anna would be the strangest to adapt as traditional horror, since so much of her genre is tragedy and drama, and a narrative from her pov doesn’t play her as living a horror story, while Max and Legion’s do. It /could/ be crazy sad and work though, especially if you say, started the film from the pov of a kid who is kidnapped by her and the family who loses the child, and then only slowly as Anna goes from this horrific thing that kills people and steals children and eats human, to a weird kidnapper mother-wannabe, does she become less a monster and more complex. Maybe then you get flashbacks. It’d be dark, though, because even if you learned her past and understood what she’s been through and why she did what she did, and she and the child form any kind of bond, and she’s temporarily happy with a daughter and full of affection, you know none of her kids ever lived, so it would have to end with the child she’s had a few slow heartwarming moments with falling ill and her working hard to make her better, keep her warm, only to return from a hunt or panicked mission to collect herbs, relieved to have found what she needs, only to find a cold lifeless body waiting. Which she cradles for hours weeping, and then goes to bury finally behind the house, and only then does the audience realize this is one more joining fourteen graves that have come before it. And god, that’s just...so dismal. Chilling.

Uhhh, Max could be really good, but I would be so afraid people would adapt him badly because mentally ill and disabled antagonists in horror like, almost without fail are disgustingly treated. So, this one gives me fear. It could be a really nice character study, slow understanding movie though, where you go from identifying with him and him being the character in a horror situation, to the monster at the end of the film killing anything who comes near him in a frenzied need to be left alone. Also a very tragic and dark film.

The Legion would be a top pick, because it’s less dark and more like, unique? As far as horror goes. You get these kids, kind of a Gingersnaps, The Craft feel horror, with character-driven and a slow build into the actual horror of it all. Things only spiral slowly, and you like and sympathize with at least to some degree the stupid shit teens by the time things fall apart and their is blood on their hands. And there’s just--so much in the air. One murder. Unplanned. Punk troublemakers that just went off the edge into something darker on accident, and never really have time to choose what this means for them as people or if they’ll come back, because they are still in the immediate turmoil of processing that first kill when the Entity grabs them all. Could be really sick. Also there’s so much sweet-tragedy to work with here, I die for it. Ahhh, and baby Jeff Johansen! --Side note: while I think a lot of these would be cool horror films, honestly, I wouldn’t make horror flicks out of any of them. The reason isn’t that they would be bad films, but that I think the ideal way to adapt dbd killers cinematically would be in like, a DbD tie-in miniseries that’s a collection of stories that gives you backstories like archives does, but does it /way/ better. Like how Overwatch does character short films periodically for lore, except longer and probably live action. Or like the Coming To America segments in American Gods before episodes/chapters that introduce characters or backstory. I fkn love that concept in media when it’s done well. I think it would be super sick, and it would be a great way to tie things into dbd while letting different killers have unique flavors and storytelling styles to their shortfilms. (Honestly, DbD as a concept could make for some /fantastic/ tv show material. I’d /love/ to adapt it. And if there /was/ a show, it would be really cool to periodically have episodes that are just character backstories before you go back to the like, over-arching realtime plot).

Uhhhh, Lisa’s would be tragic, and it would /have/ to go full story. Poor kid just living her life, to kidnapped and struggling to survive. Trying to escape. Canibalized and tortured horribly. Eventually dying and vowing revenge. All the way to twisted and abused by the Entity, doing things she never ever would have chosen for herself, for just the...the fucking wholesale tragedy of her. Honestly, if DbD had a show, she’d be a /fantastic/ choice for first or second killer to get a backstory segment or episode, because like, people new to the media would understandably be like ‘yo these monsters are all 100% evil’ but then you get Lisa and you’re like ‘Oh fuck. That was one of the creepiest, and really she’s some poor young woman who needs rescuing as much as the survivors,’ and then there’s just so much left up in the air to question--who else is like her? And who is like Danny, or Freddy? Who is somewhere in between? Great for storytelling.

Uhhh, it’d take a long time to break down how I’d adapt all of these even with me doing shortform like this so I’ll try to be brief. Let me see. Charlotte would be great horror, back to the original question, not my miniseries fantasy, because her whole life is a horror film she’s the victim in, but her situation is complex and fascinating, and she’s a kid, and it’s so tragic, but not in a pointless way. Her life was full of love and pain, but it mattered, to her, to her mom who loved her and died for her, and to the baby brother whose corpse she couldn’t stop cradling and literally carrying not just with but in her. I think you’d have to finish that heartbroken for the girl, and hoping somehow she is able to find healing in whatever time she has left.

Sally and Philip both went through awful stuff, but Philip’s is not really a subject for just a horror film--although his time in Autohaven could be. Sally also had horrific experiences at her job, but again, like Max, less excited about this one because I don’t trust many people to do a good job with an asylum story. If done well, could be really tragic. Watching her fall apart trying to care about the people who just deserve help, and falling apart being abused by the criminals kept right in the next room over. The horrific ‘treatments’, the slow influence of the Entity whispering in her head, her finally fracturing and believing so completely she is saving people by purifying them and setting them free while she smothers a young boy who trusted her to death. Devastating. And Philip’s life overall and his time in autohaven lend themselves very well to horror, and he’d be a magnificent protagonist, I just don’t think if it was mostly the stuff in America, that that’s a full-length movie. Could be a really great like 45 minute short film. God, poor Philip. He deserved /none/ of this. Uhhh, Rin’s is horrific, with her as the victim, but like Philip, there’s not a /ton/ of buildup, so short film, not feature? Also God, poor Rin. She was just a kid. Doing her best. Please, Entity, fucking stop this.

This leaves Evan, Herman, Kenneth, Adiris, Kazan, and Caleb. Out of these, Caleb would make for a really good movie, but I don’t think it would be a horror film? It’d be a drama, or action-adventure. I mean don’t get me wrong--dark drama--his life was fucked--but like, it isn’t very horror-genre. Kenneth would be super gross but he fits classic horror well so if you want a killer clown, let’s goooo, but like? It’d just be two hours of him drugging, torturing and assaulting and then killing kids, teens, young adults, adults, and old people? And like, almost getting caught but not, and then being recruited by the Entity? And there’s just...not a story in there I see very worth telling? So I’d hard pass. Gross.

Uhhhh, Herman is boring if he’s rewrite. Torture bastard but like with mad scientist vibes is more interesting, and I could dig a CIA is evil film. Only, since he canonically kills /everybody/ in the building, you’d either have to retcon, or have a very disappointing film. Because Herman can’t be the pov character if he’s mad scientist Herman--you kinda need to see that from the outside at least as like, a deuteragonist. Not that horror is always disappointing if the cast all dies--sometimes that works--but like. Given the plotline I know Herman’s life takes, I can’t see your protag being slowly mind control tortured and then eventually experimented on and ripped apart until they die Herman’s last day being a very worthwhile storyline. If you retcon the complete losses though, and have maybe a spy who is the pov character, experimented on a lot, tries to escape and is punished, maybe tries to help a friend, tries to kill Herman in retribution for what he does to a colleague, and last day, somehow finds a way to survive whatever is done to them/not end up vegetative for the rest of their life or dead? Maybe puts a plan into action and messes up a machine and gets hit with a much lower than it looks like dosage of electricity and fakes vegetative, and survives, and witnesses the Entity come and take Herman even, and the Entity notices them and is like “Okay...more free food” so you have a last minute terrified beat to shit spy trying to break free of arm restraints and escape the place before the Entity gets them. Maybe rescues someone else too? Then baybeee we got a story with a great antag! Throw in a new protag to spice it up and u got something I’d like to see. If it’s just torture man lover Herman -the mad scientist aspect, I am not super interested but it’s not a /hard/ pass. I keep this pitch, it just becomes a less interesting film.

Adiris baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t do you with the sympathetic killers you know I love you your name was just late in my list because of how I typed it. Uhhh, her life doesn’t lend well to horror, although she’s a fantastic drama or epic. I’d love to see a major focus on her in-relam in a show, but as far as this question goes, I just don’t think that’s her genre.

This leaves Kazan and Evan. Guess I lied before about not going into any detail TuT but I’ll try. Uhhh. Kazan I am just not that interested in the story of? Man goes around killing farmers brutally for no reason. It’s less horror, more historical drama, unless you take the pov of a victim who seeks revenge or something. So, like Herman, he’d need a pov character fix to make it work. But the end result I find much less compelling. I’d probably pass. It’s just not that interesting to me.

Evan. Well, he’d be a good film I think. Classic horror. Rich, privileged, conceited bastard. Even worse father. Dead mom, drama as a young man. Becomes a horrific monster and loves it, cooks workers to death in his foundry furnace for no reason except sadism, lots of kidnapping workers and forcing them into slavery for him and then horrific murder. Kinda a torture-porn leaning here if you’re not careful, but it could be a really solid flick. I don’t think any of his victims survive though, so without a retcon, it’d be a pretty damn dark one. You could have any number of pov characters that just end up burned to death, or beaten to death, or buried alive and suffocated or starved, crushed to death. You could follow Evan and just be overwhelmed with horror and disgust for the person he becomes. But it works better than some of the other dark horror options, so I’d say it has potential. Especially as a lead-in to DbD, because then it works better as a storyline, because it isn’t totally over.

Hope you enjoyed this! Again though, a lot of these could make nice movies, but I think like 45 minute episode TV show for DbD would be ideal, and they’d all make /phenomenal/ backstory short films. Even the ones that really don’t lend to standalone feature.

[redhoodedwolf]

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.

Or

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.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Primary Organs, Mama Lives in My Mouth, Phantom Limbs & Slaughter the Animal | Short Story Update

Hey People of Earth!

Today I’ll be updating y’all on FOUR short stories I recently(ish) finished drafting because it’s been so long since I last updated you on short fiction! TW: suicide, death, trauma, animal cruelty.

Plot: Six-year-old Eileen watches the body of her dead mother from the driveway of her neighbour’s house after her mother commits suicide.

Genre: Literary fiction, short fiction

POV: First person, present tense

Word count: 2342

Characters:

Eileen

Main character

SOFT

Danny

Eileen’s 18-year-old neighbour

Confused and doesn't know what to do

Ma

We obviously don’t know much about her because she’s dead at the start of the story, and we learn little of her through Eileen’s lens

I wrote this story in March for a contest (I didn’t end up submitting) as I was writing Mama Lives in My Mouth which has similar characters, and side-tangented this draft. At the time, it was one of my favourite things I’d written, but some newer work which I’ll talk about are FIGHTING for its spot. Drafting this was so painless, and the voice is a favourite I’ve written because of the lens we’re looking through (a six-year-old girl who clearly doesn’t understand her mother is dead, and the reason why her mother is dead). The story itself doesn't take place for more than 5-10 minutes, and is literally Eileen and her neighbour Danny observing her mother’s dead body while Danny speaks to a 911 operator. Because of the content, it’s my saddest story, and that’s made worse by the innocent narrative.

Publication status: unpublished, rejected 7 times (I’m! sad!), actively seeking

Plot: After her child nearly drowns, a mother shrinks herself so she can live in her child’s mouth, thereby staying close to her child and evading rent costs that have hiked due to gentrification. (lol) (sorry not sorry)

Genre: Literary fiction, flash fiction

POV: First person, present tense

Word count: 536

Characters:

Mama

Overprotective, but wants the best for her child

May or may not have an affair with her child’s dentist

Her child

Our narrator, though they experience the story in detached ways as they don’t really know what’s going on

The dentist

Potential love interest for Mama

Publication status: I haven’t shared this on here, but this story is being published! Last year, I was published in Young Voices 2019, and will be in their 2020 issue with my sister @sarahkelsiwrites​ (literal publication sister) which will come out mid Fall. I’m hyped about it!

This story has more “lore” than the others because I began writing it a year and a half ago and only recently finished the draft (which I talk about in THIS vlog). This story was originally called “Phantom Limbs in D Minor” which I prefer in sound, but the D Minor bit just never fit with the story! Sad :(

Plot: 20-year-old Linda shouldn’t be this methodically detached to her everyday life, but a year after her mother’s death, she finds herself in this exact situation, living in a phantom-like state. Acting as a live-in designer for her sister Mel and Mel’s boyfriend Fraser, Linda can’t seem to reconnect with herself post her mother’s death until Fraser interrupts her regimented routine with a request.

Genre: Literary fiction, short fiction

POV: Third person, present tense

Word count: 6199

Characters:

Linda (20)

Our semi-unhinged, but still soft, MC

Very detached from herself and though it’s not canon, there’s clear textual evidence she suffers from OCD

Mel (24)

Well meaning, but sort of overbearing older sister of Linda

Mel turned out kinder than I initially judged, and though she’s a bit self-centred, she does deeply care for her sister

Fraser (20s?)

Mel’s boyfriend. In Linda’s words, he’s unkind.

This story was bizarre to draft as it came together over a long period of time. Thematically and also in general, I didn’t know what the story wanted to be, and after drafting, was surprised at how much of a “nothing happens” story it is. I think Linda’s characterization is strong and I do like it! The opening is still one of my favourites, especially in terms of imagery.

Publication status: Not currently seeking. I definitely want to let it sit before I start sending it out!

Plot: 13-year-old Dorothy moves from Ontario to British Columbia after her parents’ divorce where she meets Ginny and Carver, a set of twins who seem both interested in the preservation of animal life and the repercussions of harming it.

Genre: Literary fiction, short fiction

POV: First person, retrospective past tense

Word count: 4340

Characters:

Dorothy “Dot” or “Dottie”

VERY soft but also ROASTS

Our narrator

Loves all animals, is vegetarian

Mother

Dorothy’s mother

Kind of textbook How Not to Be a Parent

Cares about her daughter, but is a bit misguided

Carver & Virginia “Ginny”

Fraternal twins, children of the woman who runs the boarding house Dorothy and her mother move to

Kind of the same person, with both being unfeeling, apathetic, curious, and vegetarian.

I adored writing this story. To date, the opening is the best opening I have ever written IMO in terms of prose. I got this idea for this story after praying to the short fiction gods for a short story idea! I was sitting in my backyard hammock looking up through the trees, one of which is a plum tree. My dog began barking at this gating my dad put up and the idea followed along this exact pattern, with Dorothy sitting in her backyard hammock with her dog etc. However, after this magnificent writing session where I drafted the first 1200 words, the next day, I couldn’t tap back into the story. Frustrated, I tried tinkering with it, but ultimately gave it a rest for about two weeks. Two days ago, I opened the story and the muse guided me to the end, which was pretty magical! Overall, I’m satisfied with the story. The prose is some of my best and I love the character work. It’s also my first ever time writing twins (I am a twin myself!), which was difficult at first. This is also my first explicitly CanLit (TM) story! Please publish me!

Publication status: Not currently seeking, but I will in the future!

That’s an update on these short stories! I have enough full-length fiction pieces that I’m thinking of starting a collection (I’ve written 7 non-flash pieces, 4-5 of which would most likely fit the collection), so in the interim, I shall be brainstorming names. Surprisingly, the pieces fit together quite well (I’m thinking they will be The Species is Dead, Primary Organs, Phantom Limbs, Slaughter the Animal, and *maybe* NYC in Your Apartment). But for now, that’s it!

--Rachel

[rpgsandbox]

Wanderhome is a pastoral fantasy Role-Playing Game about traveling animal-folk, the world they inhabit, and the way the seasons change. It is a game filled with grassy fields, mossy shrines, herds of chubby bumblebees, opossums in sundresses, salamanders with suspenders, starry night skies, and the most beautiful sunsets you can imagine. You might be a tamarin who dances with small and forgotten gods, a leporine mail carrier who relies on moths to get packages where they belong, a little lizard with a big heart and a mysterious past, or a near-endless number of other thrilling possibilities. No matter what, we’re always travelers—animal-folk who go from village to village and get to see the length and breadth of all the world of Hæth. The seasons will change as we play, and we will change with them. But I can’t tell you all that will happen on our journey together, along the winding dirt road and amid the grassy fields. We’re just going to have to find that out together.

Will you join me?

Wanderhome makes use of a unique game system inspired by the No Dice, No Masters engine, developed by Avery Alder and Benjamin Rosenbaum for Dream Askew and Dream Apart. Each player will make a character with the help of one of fifteen possible playbooks, making choices about their personality, animal-form, look, and passions. Each of these playbooks give you a radically different approach both to navigating the setting and growing over time. From the carefree Ragamuffin to the introverted Poet, from the Guardian and their young ward to the lonely Exile, from the cheerful Dancer to the moody Veteran, there is plenty of space in Wanderhome to imagine every possible world that lives in your heart.

Once you’ve created your character, you and your fellow travelers guide them through the dreamlike pastoral world of Hæth. There are no dice in Wanderhome. Instead, you can inconvenience yourself or step outside your comfort zone in order to get tokens, and then turn around and spend those tokens to tackle larger problems and help make the world a better, kinder space.

                       Quote from Vincent and Elliot Baker of Lumpley Games

                          Quote from Samuel Mui Shen Ern, Babblegumsam

As you arrive at each new place, you’ll build it together using a combination of thirty-six distinct natures, including farms, fields, lakes, ports, glens, and towers, among many, many more. Each nature gives you the tools you need to imagine and articulate both the literal and metaphorical aspects of the place you find yourself in. These places have kith, ordinary people living ordinary lives, navigating a world that is both peaceful and difficult in its own ways. Each kith is made out of traits that range from crafty and adventurous to many-faced and oracular. These traits give kith things they can do to define their personality, articulate the problems in their life, and push the journey forward (for good or for ill.) Sometimes you’ll be able to help the kith with their problems, but more often than not you’ll just spend time with them and learn more about the world.

Wanderhome is structured with an emphasis on safety and care, built on my own work designing safety mechanics and constructing alternate safety approaches beyond the industry standards. It features a bespoke set of safety mechanics built around empowering players to guide the story however they want, which are used consistently throughout the game. It is also designed to collaboratively set the tone and articulate a version of Hæth that's perfect for your group.

Wanderhome is a GM-agnostic game–while you can play with a Guide facilitating the world, you can also approach it without anyone in charge, where everyone takes equal part in the collaborative conversation. And while you can play Wanderhome in as little as 3-4 hours, the longer you stay with Wanderhome the more the world will grow with you. The months will pass over time and as each season concludes you’ll get to make new choices about your character, advancing them in new directions and helping them grow in ways you didn’t think was possible. If you play long enough, eventually your characters will retire or grow apart, and the journey will continue with brand-new travelers and a vast world ahead of you.

                      The free playkit is available on Itch now! (Art by Letty Wilson)

Wanderhome is set in the wholly-original fantasy world of Hæth, inspired by the works of Brian Jacques, Tove Jansson, and Hayao Miyazaki. The game hints at and builds a mythological language around forces like the bitter King of the Floating Mountain, the Lily Rebellion, the Slobbering God and the blade that killed her, and the fall of the great dragons of old, but refuses to elaborate or define them—leaving that exercise to the players through the journey itself. Instead, Wanderhome is focused on the lives of ordinary people, and the world that exists for farmers, merchants, and crafts-folk.

Wanderhome is a world filled with animal-folk and their buggy livestock. Unlike many worlds with animal-folk, there is no morality or judgement ascribed to the various animals of Hæth—a snake is just as capable of being a kindly farmer as a rabbit, and you can’t assume much about someone based on what animal they are. You might find a fluffy shepherd with a herd of bumblebees, a shrewish merchant riding a stag beetle the size of a house, a lonely fox riding a grasshopper from place to place, or a praying mantis that hangs out in a gecko’s pocket.

     Quote from Avery Alder, Buried Without Ceremony (Art by Jennie Lindberg)

Wanderhome also features an original calendar of new months and seasons, with its own cycle of holidays and traditions. From flowery Bloommeadow to brisk Firetop to snug and quiet Snowblanket, each month is both rooted in potentially familiar natural cycles but with a unique twist. Each place you travel to has a different expression of the seasons in it - no matter how many times you travel through the year, it will always feel different. If you play Wanderhome long enough, you might even encounter unique phenomena that create a new twist on the calendar.

The Hæth is a world full of queer love, hope, happiness, and community. It is a land that was once ravaged by violence, but is putting itself back together again. Wanderhome dares to imagine a better world, one where money and power are distant stories from a bygone age, and we can learn to begin the process of healing.

                        Thumbnails by Danny Kyobe and Jo Thierolf

                                Mockups of the Book (design not final)

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, September 3 2020 1:25 PM BST

Website: [Jay Dragon] [twitter] [patreon] [itch]

[jessicajonesrp]

Reminiscing and big news

 

The day of Dorothy Walker’s memorial service and funeral passed with minimal dramatics, thankfully.

As Jessica had promised, she and Luke had remained outside the service, vigilant for any sign of Phillip or anyone else lurking around the building or attempting a disruption. Jessica owned exactly two dresses that she had worn exactly once each, and one of them was a red wedding dress. She owned no “funeral appropriate” clothing, according to Trish, despite the irony of owning quite a lot of black t-shirts, jackets, and jeans. According to Trish, if Jessica wore any of them, despite the appropriate color, the clothes themselves would likely cause Dorothy to rise from the dead just to sputter her indignation at the scandal.

In the end she borrowed a dress from Trish that was a little short in length and tight on her around the chest, which made no sense to Jessica, since she was usually at least a cup size smaller than Trish.  It was not exactly the kind of clothing that was suitable for ass-kicking, which would have made her uncomfortable any time, let alone when she was guarding a place with the actual possibility of ass-kicking. Damn Trish and her adherence to social expectations, but this wasn’t a day Jessica could argue with her.

Phillip didn’t show, although it seemed like every other person even loosely attached to the entertainment industry did. The amount of dramatic grieving from people that likely barely knew or had actively disliked Dorothy made Jessica’s skin crawl just watching them, which made her glad she didn’t have to sit through an entire service of it. No one in particular stood out to her, and the vast majority didn’t recognize her as Dorothy’s adoptive daughter as they passed, whether that was because they wouldn’t associate Jessica with wearing a dress or because Dorothy had managed to put that much distance between them over time. Jessica did notice a short young woman with dark hair and intense eyes look her over a little longer than she considered normal, but the woman didn’t speak to her, and she wasn’t someone that Jessica recognized, so she let it go.

By the time it was all over and everyone was milling around, likely gossiping more than talking about Dorothy, Jessica was more than ready to get Trish and go. She wanted to check in on her and make sure she got through her speech okay, of course, but she also had had to pee really badly. Which was weird, because her morning attempt at coffee and whiskey had not been successfully digested, something she was starting to get actively agitated about. This was not the time to be sick, damn it. She would start to think someone was poisoning her, if she hadn’t been getting all her own drinks herself.

Trish’s eyes were red, her expression tired when she finally emerged with Danny, but she gave Jessica and Luke a smile that was only slightly strained, obviously relieved that everything had gone smoothly. She gave Jessica a hug and kept her in it loosely as she looked past Jessica’s shoulder to Luke and Danny.

“Jess…I know you hate talking and feelings and combinations of the two. But would you please do just one more thing for me?”

Jessica sighed, pulling back from Trish to look at her, but despite the attitude she gave off in her look, she already knew she would say yes. “What are you making me do?”

“I sort of just…I want to go sit somewhere with you, and remember things about Mom,” Trish said softly. “Not like everyone else just did. That was a public thing. It was true, mostly, but it wasn’t the whole story, it wasn’t the Mom we knew. No one else lived with her, no one else but you knew her like I did. Just for a little while. I think it will help me, if you let me talk about things we remember.”

Her blue eyes were so full of both hurt and hope that it was hard to even look at her, let alone say no to her. Her request was about the last thing one earth Jessica wanted to do, but she sighed and nodded, for Trish.

“Fine. Just let me go pee first, I swear I’ve been holding it for like three hours now.”

They ended up sitting together on the couch of Trish’s and Danny’s penthouse, Trish with her knees wrapped around her legs, Jessica a little twitchy and tense at first, but gradually relaxing. She had been afraid that Trish might want to romanticize Dorothy, going into detail about every positive quality that the woman had and conveniently forgetting all the rest, but instead, Trish was wanting to talk about what it had been like when they lived together, or as Jessica thought of it, suffered through mutual Dorothy encounters together.

 

“Do you remember your first Christmas with us?” Trish said with faint smile. “Mom always insisted on going ridiculously all out with decorating, she would actually hire people to put up garland and mistletoe and fake snow and whatever else was chic that year. And she insisted on that huge photo spread of us as a new family in that magazine?”

“God, what the hell was she thinking, putting up mistletoe in a house three women lived in? Who were we supposed to kiss, each other?” Jessica rolled her eyes, before smirking. “Maybe we should have, just to shake her up a bit. That would have been the most viral photo shoot of the year. Patsy Walker makes out with her own sister!”

Trish giggled. “She made you wear that dress that matched mine, and you absolutely refused to smile. In every single picture, every damn one, there was Mom and me grinning like manic Christmas fairies, and you giving your best death glare, all decked out in velvet and lace.”

“She didn’t try that again, after all the comments to the editor speculating about if  her new daughter was  brain damaged or mentally ill from her tragic accident,” Jessica remember, her smirk deepening. “I think they would have cut me out of the pictures entirely if that didn’t kind of defeat the point of the photo shoot.”

“She would get so mad at how you dressed,” Trish reminded her, smiling. “I swear, Jess, I think your style to this day is a defiant reaction to her constantly telling you to comb your hair, put on makeup, and wear clothes with a designer labeled designed for the female body. Who knows, maybe you would be a fashion model if she hadn’t actually encouraged you to be one. You have the height and figure for it, she wasn’t wrong.”

“But absolutely zero interest,” Jessica reminded her flatly. “I outgrew the girly thing about the time I outgrew wearing princess dresses with Sketchers. Even then, Barbies in my hands got their hair chopped off and their bodies tattooed with Sharpie.”

“Remember the time the Thanksgiving caterer she hired somehow brought us the wrong food, for some vegan family, and we had this ridiculous tofu shaped like a turkey?” Trish laughed. “And she tried to cook one herself but never actually turned the oven on, so we had like, a thousand side dishes that all looked and tasted like cardboard, and a frozen turkey? And then you tried to microwave it-“

“Hey, I was 15,” Jessica laughed. “I know now to just order take out. Real take out, not vegan catering shit.”

“And that time she decided we should drive to the movie I was shooting in LA, all the way from New York, because it was about a girl going on a road trip with her friends, and she thought I needed to actually experience a road trip to give an authentic acting experience,” Trish continued, her smile broadening. “No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t convince her that driving across the country with your manager mother at age seventeen is not at all the same as driving with a group of friends.”

“Oh my god, you’re lucky I didn’t strangle you both with my earbuds,” Jessica muttered, shaking her head. “She literally brought along an It’s Patsy soundtrack to listen to on the road. Does she know how many times I had to sit on my hands to keep from grabbing the wheel to force us over the side of a cliff? I didn’t care if it was suicide, I was fucking ready to die within an hour.”

“She would actually go rant at the gas station attendants about the unacceptable lack of cleanliness and availability of healthy food options in their stores,” Trish remembered, snickering. “I was so mortified. And you locked us both out of the car for an hour at one stop.”

“I needed the peace, what can I say?” Jessica shrugged, smirking. “I would do it again, a thousand times over.”

Trish sighed, her expression going more serious as paused before speaking up again.

“None of this was funny then,” she said quietly. “It probably still isn’t, really. But we’re the only ones that remember. We’re the only ones left that really knew her. Mom…she was a difficult person. Really, really hard to love sometimes, and harder to like. But the good things I said about her back there were true too. She was smart, she had high expectations of herself and others, and she was strong.  She had to be, raising me on her own, wanting me to be more and have more in life than she could. She messed me up, but she always thought what she did was for my best, no matter how much she had to twist up logic to come to the conclusion that it was right.”

Jessica didn’t argue with her, just nodding slightly. What Trish said wasn’t untrue.

“She was toxic for you,” she offered quietly. “But she did love you, as much as she could love anyone besides herself. She was proud of you. She was shit at showing it, but she was. You were her shining star.”

“I know,” Trish said softly, exhaling. “I don’t know if I should be trying to remember the good times, like when she would tuck me in at night and tell me I was the best and most beautiful girl in the world, or the bad times, like when she would slap my face and call me a fat, selfish bitch. But maybe the best thing is to remember it all. Balance.”

Jessica nodded again, putting a hand hesitantly on Trish’s knee. Trish covered it with hers, squeezed, and then entwined their fingers.

“She loved you too,” Trish told her, unknowingly repeating Luke’s words. “I know it probably didn’t seem like it to you. But she did. I know she did. She wouldn’t waste her breath criticizing someone as much as she criticized you, if that person wasn’t someone she loved.”

This was the first time that Jessica had really considered this, and the first time it rang true. She exhaled, accepting the idea, and a bittersweet tightness spread through her chest as she understood that this was something that both she and Dorothy had never expressed and now never could.

Trish leaned her head against Jessica’s shoulder, shifting to settle her body against her. Jessica inhaled sharply when Trish’s shoulder inadvertently jostled the side of her breast, not having expected the tender pain the slight gesture invoked.

“Ow,” she muttered, shifting away from her enough that Trish could remain leaned on her, but wasn’t touching anywhere near her chest. “Hm, maybe I pulled something.”

“Pulled something? Did you break a rib?” Trish asked, concerned, and starting to lift her head. “Did you go out and fight people last night?”

“No,” Jessica shrugged. “Pretty sure you can’t break a boob. Probably PMSing. Or strained a chest muscle from puking. You probably actually don’t want to get this close to me, whatever I’ve had lately is probably contagious.”

Trish’s lips twitched then, and her eyes danced with amusement that she tried unsuccessfully to hide. Jessica stared at her.

“What, we’re so juvenile now we laugh at the word boob? What do you call yours, mammary glands?”

Trish giggled, shaking her head.

“You just aren’t adding things up, are you, Jess?”

“What is there to add?” Jessica demanded, more confused than ever. “When did we change the subject to math?”

“Jess,” Trish said patiently, still fighting a smile. “Think about this. You’re throwing up. You’re wanting to eat weird things and not drink. You cried in front of Danny yesterday-“

“Hey,” Jessica protested, automatically defensive at the mention of crying, but Trish spoke over her.

“You’ve peed three times since you’ve been over here, and now, your boob hurts. Are you starting to see the picture?”

“Yeah, you spend way too much time paying attention to the shit I do,” Jessica grumbled, not seeing at all. “Why are you tracking everything I do, you weirdo?”

“Oh my god, you are the least self aware person I’ve ever met,” Trish groaned, shaking her head. Putting both hands on Jessica’s shoulders, she looked her directly in the eye, speaking slowly and distinctly. “Jessica. Honey. You need to take a pregnancy test.”

“What? I’m not pregnant!” Jessica exclaimed, automatically stunned and dismissive of the idea. “I would know if I was pregnant, Trish, please!”

“Jessica, Danny already told me that you are,” Trish started, which only set her off into sputtering indignation.

“DANNY told you?! He’s been in a parallel fucking world, how the fuck would Danny know a damn thing about whether or not there’s a human being hatching in me?!”

“He saw the baby’s chi,” Trish explained patiently. Giving her shoulders another little squeeze before letting them go, she stood, then gestured for the door. “Right, I can’t let this level of denial go on any longer. Here’s fifty bucks. Go to the pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test. Two of them, at least, the most accurate brands. Go home and take them, and if I’m wrong, you can laugh at me all you want.”

“Baby’s chi- what crap,” Jessica muttered, shaking her head as she stood, taking the money. “Whatever, I’ll buy the pregnancy test, but I’ll buy a few bottles of booze too. So I can celebrate my not-pregnant state once I prove you wrong.”

But an hour later, she was standing frozen in the bathroom of her and Luke’s apartment, staring at the very clearly marked positive of the third pregnancy test she had taken. Two positives had not been enough to convince her, and she had actually gone out to buy another of a different brand from a different pharmacy before she could accept the outcome. But three positives was evidence enough to come to a conclusion.

Danny and his stupid chi was right. Apparently, Jessica was pregnant.

Her hands were shaking when she picked up the phone to call Luke. “Um, when are you coming home? We need to talk about something.”

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Epilog Ohana

Chapters 1 -13

Chapter 14

Three months later

Danny peels an orange and watches with amusement and a warm fuzzy feeling in this stomach how Aunt Deb conquers the kitchen at the McGarrett's house.

"Danny, be so kind as to hand me the spatula over there?"

"Where have you learned to cook for a whole crew?" Danny reaches over to hand her the cookware. He darts a quick look out the window. The backyard is crowded with all their friends and family who gathered today to celebrate a special ceremony for little Kalea. He hauls himself up to sit on the countertop neatly nestled in the corner out of Aunt Deb's way but still in the middle of things. He eats the luscious orange with delight, licking the juice off his fingers.

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She lifts her head and stretches to her full height, wiping a hand at the white apron. She smiles wisely with so much love, it warms Danny from head to toe. "I've spent years in the show business. Do you have any idea how starved we were after a performance on stage?" Aunt Deb's laugh comes deep from within her gut. It's so strange and unexpected Danny freezes, intrigued by this dazzling personality in front of him. Steve has the most fascinating relatives.

"You performed? On stage?" Danny askes with wonder in his voice. "As in dancer? Singer?"

"A singer and the dancing just happened. Hell, yeah, those were the good ol' days. Crazy, sometimes no money in the pocket but, God, did we love it. We had fire in our hearts and were ready to conquer the world. We had so much fun!" Aunt Deb's voice was filled with a hint of wistfulness. "But family is the most important thing in the world. I came home after my sister-in-law died. I wanted to be there for Steve and Mary. But – " She nods firmly over where Danny hangs on her lips not to miss a single moment, "yes, I and my crew often ended up hungry in the bar's kitchen where we had our gig. The best parties were celebrated in various kitchens. We knew some of the owners. They enjoyed a private concert while I made a late-night dinner for the whole team. Those were great and fun times. We could eat and entertain like no one else." She tells in a sparkling, enticing way that charms Danny on the spot.

Danny forgets to eat his orange and kind of jerks from the spell he's under when Mary floats into the kitchen. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shine like stars. She looks beautiful and motherhood suits her well. She spreads happiness into the air like a new brand of air freshener.

"Aunt Deb's stories as a singer captivates everyone, right Danny?" She pats Danny's knee and flashes him one of those famous McGarrett smiles before she walks up to her aunt to hug her around the waist. "Aunt Deb is the queen of homemade food. She's famous for her roast and for the best stuffed turkey at Thanksgiving." Mary steals a sweet potato slice freshly out of the oven. "Mmm, God, it's pure manna! Tastes good, Aunt Deb." Mary pants to cool the hot vegetable in her mouth.

Aunt Deb chides her about eating with her fingers and makes her take a plate. Mary kisses her cheek and comes closer to lean into Danny.

"Where's your baby girl, Mary?" Danny snatches a piece from her plate.

"Steve's carrying her around. She's hungry and whiny. I need to feed her." Mary pricks Danny's finger with the fork to make him back off. "Those are mine. Have some of your own. You haven't even finished your orange. I'm hungry. I need to produce milk."

Danny chuckles and shoves the slice of warm, spicy-sweet potato in his mouth. It mixes with the taste of orange. "Whoa, these are madly tasty. You have to teach me how to get it that delicious, Aunt Deb."

Aunt Deb smiles knowingly and hums a melody. She turns when Steve walks in.

Danny's eyes are glued to how Steve gently cradles the youngest offspring of the McGarrett family in his arms – baby Kalea. Danny can't get enough of the soft and tender expression on Steve's face whenever he carries his niece. He's the proudest uncle Danny has ever seen, overprotective over both, mother and child. Kalea is embedded in a warm-hearted, wonderful family of which Danny and Grace and even Rachel and Stan are now a part of it too. It's overwhelmingly wonderful.

"Hey, Danny, here you are. I've been looking for you everywhere." Steve steers right into the corner where Danny still sits on the kitchen counter.

"Did you miss me?" Danny asks and strokes with a finger featherlight over Kalea's tiny head, wrapped protectively in a tiny cotton cap. "The best stories you always get waiting for the food in the kitchen."

"Aunt Deb rocks," Steve answers with a laugh. "I still love to listen to all her stories." Steve rocks his niece gently. She complains about how she feels with a small voice and lets everyone know she's upset. "Is she okay, Mary? I couldn't calm her." Steve sounds worried. "Kawika said she's just hungry."

"Yes, my sweet girl needs her milk. Look she searches with her mouth to find the food station but your dry as a desert, dear brother. Come, let's go upstairs. I need somewhere to sit comfortably and away from loud voices. She gets startled easily. I need her to drink quietly and afterward, she'll sleep peacefully."

Danny watches how Steve's cheeks flush adorably when Mary tells him how useless he's to a hungry baby with no milk to provide. "Go upstairs, Steve. Help Mary to get comfortable with cushions. Take Grace's and Nahele's pillows too. She needs to be all propped up with all kinds of support to relax.

"Okay, come on Mary," Steve signals with his head to head upstairs. "You can sit on our bed. It's big and it's quiet. No one will disturb you. I'll carry her. Eat up." Steve rubs soothingly over Kalea's back. She whimpers and pumps with her small legs. She's getting agitated.

Mary shoves the plate with the rest of her veggies into Danny's hand. "Let's go, Punk. She's working herself up into a mood. She's hungry. I don't want her to start crying. She would be too upset to drink. Come on, Steve. Let's go." Mary almost rushes outside.

Steve kisses the baby's head. "Sit tight, Danno. I'll be back."

Danny watches Steve leave the kitchen. He forces himself to slowly finish the rest of Mary's vegetables. He saves the three last slices of orange for Steve. Aunt Deb sings a wonderful, slow tune, immersed in getting the main course ready for the crowd. Danny knows she gives him the space he needs. No talking. He blinks furiously to clear his vision. Danny smells the grilled meat while he chews almost meditatively on a potato slice to make his chest unclench. Kamekona is the proud barbecue chef of today's family celebration. The animated chatter and the occasional outburst of laughter filters through the back door. It's the happiness that constricts Danny's throat and makes his chest uncomfortably tight. He's glad Aunt Deb doesn't want to pick a conversation.

Danny waits for Steve at the bottom of the stairs. He balances the three orange pieces on his palm. Everyone is somewhere else. He's alone for precious five minutes. He debates in his head if he should sneak upstairs to call for Steve to tell him he's about to go looking for the kids. He knows it takes time to feed a baby. Grace had trouble to suck properly and she was a slow drinker. Rachel never minded. She loved those bonding times with Grace. They were precious. She wanted them to last. Danny envied her for those moments, those most intimate moments when a mother breastfed her baby. It hurt him that he would never know how this might feel. It must be incredible and soul-altering beautiful.

He lifts his head. Steve silently comes down the stairs. His eyes find Danny's and Danny feels how Steve sinks into him, touching him on the inside like he always does in the same insane way.

"Hey, babe," Danny gets greeted with a soft press of lips, "how's it going? Is she drinking?"

"Yes, they're fine. I made sure Mary feels comfortable. I haven't checked but the sucking sound told me she soon will fall asleep with her little belly full of milk." Steve's cheeks are still colored pink.

"You didn't stay?" Danny leans into Steve's touch and welcomes Steve's tender, consuming kisses.

"I – no, I don't know. It didn't seem appropriate."

"Appropriate? Why? It's a mother breastfeeding her baby. The most natural and most wonderful thing in the world." Danny pulls back a little and sees how Steve's face is flushed.

"It's my sister, Danny. It's – I don't know, kind of too intimate to sit and to watch the baby suckle at Mary's nipple. Kawika is allowed to see this, not me, not her brother. I – " Steve gazes sheepishly at Danny, holding his face between his large, rough hands. "Did you watch Rachel and Grace?" He asks a bit breathless.

Danny's face lit up in a warm smile. "Yes, I did. It was beautiful, full of love and peace. It hit me every time how powerful this simple act of deep love is. A mother nurtures her baby like women have done over centuries."

Steve's eyes take him in, wander over his face. "You're so special. Do you know this, Danny?"

Danny breathes in Steve's scent when Steve drags his lips along his cheek to get to his eyes, giving him butterfly-light kisses on his closed eyelids. Steve pulls him into a hug. "I kinda felt excluded, too." Danny adds, "and sometimes I was jealous of not having this deep bond with my daughter.  As a man, you miss out on so much intimacy but I loved to sit there and be a part of something bigger."

Steve rests his chin on Danny's head. "Mary said it was okay if I wanted to stay. She's such a great mother. I'm so happy for her and Kawika. But still. I guess it was too much. I felt a bit overwhelmed, to be honest." Steve mumbles into Danny's hair.

"Eat a slice of orange. It helps to deal with the overload." Danny brings his hand up and Steve turns his head.

Danny sighs when Steve doesn't let go but signals him to bring his hand to his lips. He pulls his abs taut when Steve's lips graze over his palm to catch the orange pieces. He chews and swallows and smiles at him. Steve's tongue licks the juice from Danny's palm. "Steve, you gotta stop this – "

"Why? No one's here. Just us." Steve sucks Danny's digit into his mouth and runs his tongue alongside with a glint in his eyes.

"Hold this thought," Danny tries to free his captured finger. He feels the heat spread into his groin. Steve gets this heated look. He smiles lasciviously when he grabs Danny's wrist and holds it firmly. "Steve," Danny tries a stern tone and fails completely. "Give me back my finger. Don't be a dick. The backyard is full of guests. Aunt Deb is cooking in the kitchen." Danny hisses but laughs and maybe he also moans.

"Make me," Steve says with a smoky voice.

"Make you what?" Danny's hips push forward. Not good.

"Make me give you back your finger." Steve mumbles. His mouth sucks at Danny's finger, running his tongue like velvet over the finger buried in his mouth.

"Jesus, Steve! I can't sport a hard-on at a family gathering. Your father is outside. Maybe he's already looking for us." Danny grasps at straws. He laughs at Steve's expression and how that magical word sobers him up instantly. He gives Danny his finger back.

"That was a mean one," Steve says with a gruff voice.

Danny's amused and flattens Steve's already flat shirt with his other hand. "Don't challenge me, big guy," he grins. "Have you seen the kids recently?"

Steve wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Not since I've stepped into the kitchen with Kalea. I told Kamekona to keep an eye on them. I mean, Rachel and Stan are still outside. So are Kono, Chin, Kawika – everyone keeps an eye on Grace and Nahele and they're with Jeanne. They don't go far."

"Come, I need to wash my hands. I wanna know what they've been plotting. They've become so wild." Danny grabs at Steve's shirt and pulls him in for another kiss. "And then we spent some time with your father."

Danny calls out to the crowd gathered around the colorfully decorated tables. "Hey everyone, have someone spotted the kids and Jeanne? I haven't seen them in a while."

Kamekona points with the burger spatula in the direction where the beach is. "Don't worry, Danny, the keikis are with gramps at the beach."

"Gramps?" Steve snorts walking behind Danny.

"Your father, grandpa McGarrett, Steve," Kawika comes up to stand beside Steve. He throws an arm around his shoulder and heartedly pats his chest. He grins like a loon.

"You worry too much, Danny," Kono calls over where she's invested in a conversation with Rachel.

"I worry too much?" Danny mocks indignation. "They always turn up without their shirts or shorts. Wet and sandy, although they know they aren't allowed to be even near the ocean. And there are sharks out there!" Danny complains, pointing with his outstretched arm to the wild sea that sloshes against their doorstep.

"Danny, you're overdramatic. They're never alone near the water. They're not that silly to walk into the surf." Rachel answers with a soft voice and a laugh.

Danny's eyes are wide. Rachel sits relaxed in a comfortable chair with a pillow stuck behind her back. She has a flower tucked behind her ear and Stan watches her with a stupidly happy smile. Pregnancy suits her well. Grace is going to have a sibling soon. Danny inhales deeply. "You're not allowed to do that, Rachel. She's your daughter, too. You have to be on my side. "

"I'm on your side, Daniel and as I said, don't be so dramatic. John is with them. They're alright."

"There are no sharks out there, Danny. I'd feel them. Your keikis are safe." Mamo's soothing voice comes from the other side of the table.

"I don't even want to know how you would sense if there were sharks swimming around." Danny's brows are furrowed. He's not yet used to all the Hawaiian mambo jambo about 'the sea speaks to me' and 'the wind tells me when to hang my laundry to the west' and 'when it's the right time to plant the seeds because the earth is ready to embrace her children'. Steve has told him that once and he still can't wrap his mind around how someone could feel that.

"Wait until you see the surfboards I've made for Grace and Nahele," Kawika informs everyone.

Danny sputters and turns around. He points with a fierce finger at Kawika and jabs his left pec hard. "Don't. You. Talk. About. Freaking. Surfboards.!" Jab, jab, jab. "What is wrong with you?" Danny calls Rachel for help. "Rachel! Tell me you haven't agreed to that crazy plan?"

"Kono and Mamo are with them. Kawika surfs since he's a child. We're in Hawaii, Danny. Surfing is the way of life here." Rachel smiles gorgeously and leans back against her fluffy pillow.

"Who are you?" Danny stammers.

"Danno," Steve's beloved rumble makes Danny keep his balance. "No shark will eat one of our kids. They will see the dolphins, as I have promised. And we will start in the shallow water. Mamo knows the sea like no one else. Trust the locals. Grace and Nahele will be fine."

Danny kind of deflates and leans into the invisible support Steve provides. "Okay, okay. One step at the time."

Kawika has still his arm around Steve's shoulder. He looks like he's completely drunk on happiness. "How's Mary and my baby. They okay?"

Steve's moved easily these days. Danny gets all the mushy vibes Steve gives off. He tries to keep a solid frame but it suits him well to be all gooey on the inside while the outer shell is a rock-hard and muscled and fierce as always. "Yes, Mary's fine. Your little one drinks as if there's no tomorrow." He squeezes Kawika's hand. His gaze drifts off to the beach. "So, you're telling me my dad is at the beach with Grace and Nahele?"

"Oh look, here they come!" Danny shouts and waves back when Grace calls his name. "And here we go. What have I told you? No shirts, sandy and wet."

They walk closer. Nahele and Grace hold on to John's hands. He leads the kids up to where everyone waits. Grace bounces excitedly and Nahele giggles his sweet laugh with his head thrown back.

"What – " Danny can't hide his smile either. The kids are so loose and content, "what happened to your shirts?" Danny's hand makes a complicated move. He also stares at John McGarrett. His pants are rolled up to his knees and the rim of his pants is wet. They have been in the water. "Hey, John, thanks a lot for taking care of them."

"No worries, Danny, it's a joy to be with them. We had fun, right kids?"

"Yesss!" Nahele shouts and shoves the shells he has found at the beach into Danny's hands. "Keep them for me."

"Where's your shirt, young man?" Danny tries to give him a stern look. But God, he's so irresistible with his smile and he's Grace's best friend.

"I gave it to Grace."

"Why?

"She likes it. Jeanne needed a shirt too." Nahele sighs dramatically as if Danny asks to most boring questions. "I'm hungry." He whines.

"Go wash your hands, put on a new shirt. You know where they are. In your dresser, bottom drawer. And you too, Grace. You know, I could buy you a spiderman shirt any day if you wanted one." He has tried so many times but her answer stays the same.

"I like wearing Nahele's shirts. He doesn't mind." She peeps and pulls at her pigtails before she runs after Nahele.

"And why needs the dog to wear your shirt?" Danny calls after his daughter. He darts over to watch Jeanne panting with Grace's pink glitter shirt and the lettering 'be a princess'. Sometimes, Danny can't get rid of the feeling that this sweet dog grins at him.

"Jeanne likes pink!" Grace screams back. Nahele almost topples over when the fit of giggle tears through his sun-kissed body. Grace laughs along with him and together they bounce into the living room. Wild and carefree.

Danny shakes his head and smiles. Steve steps up behind him and pulls him close. Steve can't form words when too many emotions constrict his throat. "Let's eat. Come on, dad. You look hungry too. Thanks for hanging out with them."

"We had fun," John repeats before he awkwardly but affectionately pats Steve's shoulder to stroll off to sit beside his wife.

"Let's eat, folks!" Aunt Deb shouts and claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "Lunch is served!"

Steve sneaks stealthily out of bed not to wake Danny. Grace is with Rachel and Nahele sleeps at his sister's house. It's only Danny and him. Steve doesn't need much sleep. The nightmares aren't tearing that often through his mind anymore. He can rest while he sleeps but the uneasy feeling when he lies awake in bed stays. Healing can't be rushed he has learned the hard way. It's better to get up, drink some water, watch the ocean, and waits until his limbs get heavy again to crawl back under the cover to be with Danny for a few more hours.

The beaten, old chest of his grandfather is heavy. He pulls it carefully from under the bench where it's stashed close to the window. The lid opens soundlessly. He holds the simple wooden box for a moment before he flips the lid open. The dog tags with his name rest there in the same heap of a coiled up chain. Two small plates with his name stamped in lie on top, just the way he has left them the last time he held them. His grandfather's dog tags are in the second, identical wood box right there where he has put them.

Steve strokes the metal with his fingers before he takes it out to hold it, to run it through his fingers, to refresh the sense that ripples through him whenever his fingertips make contact with his past. He gets lost in thoughts. He still misses it, the team, the thrill, and the purpose. The drill, the way of life that leaves no gap to think about anything else but about the next step in the mission, the training. Being a SEAL will forever be carved in his bones no matter the damage it has brought being part of missions, doing the job of an elite soldier.

Plants and seedlings have been his lifeline back to life, have held him upright when he didn't know how to make it through the day, how to make a life out of the Navy. Until Danny came along to buy one of his plants. And he sold it to the guy he hasn't known back then but to whom his heart has answered without his consent. Everything has changed after that.

It's time to move on. Kamekona and Mary have taken over his flower shop. They have plans to develop a business but are serious about how they want to run it with economical sustainability. And Steve – Steve has finally accepted the Governor's offer to run a task force. He has needed time to think about it but he's ready now. The support group helps to understand his issues and to deal with them. That's the reason he took the dog tags from the wall to keep them safe, out of sight because he doesn't need to look at them to drag him through the day. He's ready for action and stress and pressure. He needs it like air to breathe.

He carefully and slowly puts the dog tags back into the wooden box. He closes the lid and hides the boxes where they belong. It's a ritual. It's important. Each movement is accurate, dedicated, and executed with humbleness.

Steve drinks the glass of water in complete silence and gazes out to the black mass of water. He doesn't make a sound. Kono and Chin will come by for breakfast. Danny got a bit antsy when Steve didn't come out with the truth about that meeting. He got suspicious but Steve made him shut up and made him moan instead. Thoroughly fucked and tired Danny was out cold without the change to pepper him with questions.

They are going to be a team and as a team, Steve wants to inform all of them at once. HPD won't be happy to lose three good cops in one day. Hawaii needs their best and Steve and his team will be the best. The smile that spreads his lips feels damn good.

Steve climbs back into bed and curls around Danny's warm body. He's excited and the well-known, much-missed vibration of strength makes it difficult the fall asleep. He's finally back. Steve kisses Danny's neck and buries his face in the soft curve of Danny's strong shoulders.

THE END

[anonil88]

We are are who we are Episode 7 lb

Look at all those chickens

So quiet on election night thats wild. Maybe because they just don't care.

Sarah showed up in sweats, this is bad.

Damn they are dead, damn.

Trust they see more in barracks, a lil tit is not gonna hurt anyone. Also damn Chloe them thangs are sitting. Hello.

No time at all to pray.

I mean Fraser, your mom is gay she has a bit of semblance that trans people exist. Also taking a child that is not your own to an enfo assessment can turn out awful for that kid if their parents don't accept them. Especially if you are not in a position to take care of and invite that child into your home to raise.

Fraser get your head out your selfishness, be aware of your audience.

God, did their friend die?

A moment of silence simultaneously is eerie.

Oh no ;(

Damn an iud.

I'm with curly haired kid not the blonde one.

Based on Fraser being blunt like that with 0 I still think he may be somewhat on the autism spectrum or at least he has anxiety.

I hope Danny doesn't kill himself.

R.I.P Craig

She is only gay sometimes aka not now, that switch up is hella cold.

Oh, well I guess he gets his bluntness from Maggie.

Basically Maggie you are the distraction and she is breaking up with you.

DAYUM, she does have a son though. One who no one views as her own cause he's not biological which is weird. She already has those insecurities and everyone keeps reminding her of thatm

Grief bonding is real.

Danny is snapping, Sam sees this is ridiculous, and Harper/Cait ran to Fraser fast.

Wait Fraser and Cait could still be a thing, even though I doubt it, cause they aren't cis and Fraser definitely isn't straight.

Gosh this is a bleak group vigil. Oh wow, Craig's wife is there.

So military couples both wear their blues/greens at formal events together gotcha.

Harper/Cait's dad can get drop kicked rn i swear.

Fraser just being a support for Harper/Cait aww he finally got that he said the wrong thing earlier.

Leave her be Maggie.

Sarah really is mothering these two kids, oh fuck Richard is drunk. Damn he knew all 3 soldiers who died closely.

Its not her fault they died also, there is a chain of command. Someone gave her an order and she went along with/followed the order. If she had said no more troops it would have gone over her head and still happened.

This episode is really really good so far. The pacing, the story, just really well done. This series as a whole is a slow burn to the end it seems cause so far this is super cohesive.

Back to the house where they last saw Craig.

Ahh religious battles. So he was gon say no to the alcohol but yes to the coke??

Sam doing coke and ketamine, chileeee.

Drugs and alcohol only provide temporary relief from grief y'all. It's something you actually have to work through even though it hurts.

Yea please someone go follow his widow please. I mean technically even if you divorce someone and have kids you will always be bonded to them. Technically it always follows you that you've been married before in your paper trail.

Noooo Fraser Noooo, you can't just pop up on people like that.

Fraser seeing this half-naked man is bumbling. Yea kid, they were having sex or about to. You interrupted

Maggie is going to put this child under house arrest i swear.

Not these two weirdos baiting a child into a sexual encounter/threesome.

Come thru Dev with this soundtrack though we love a good radiohead moment.

Oh thank the lord he came to his senses, yes lets get out of there Fraser. He clung to that man like a scared leaf and looked at that woman with so much confusion. If Sarah finds out he's getting soldier man is fired.

Okay forest lmao

Thats how you fuck up your bike, don't do that.

Close the fridge before you defrost is damn.

Not him looking for a gun and then deciding on alcohol. Boy it is perfectly okay, you weren't ready and thats okay you aren't old enough and that man is far too old for you.

The freezer please.

Alcohol poisoning here he comes. Where is Maggie? I know Sarah is busy at work but where is Maggie. He feels like a failure because what he was looking for was a male figure to connect to and its muddled with attraction.

Oh there they are, awesome. He is so mad at Sarah. Maggie really can be an excellent mother when Fraser needs it. Glad they are home to take care of him.

They can be soulmates and not fuck.

As I said sex doesn't heal the pain of grief.

Soundtrack is 🔥🔥🔥

Yo Danny stop, omg they all are snapping, this is someone else's house. This is why you don't do psychedelics right when you greive or something traumatic happens. Those folks gonna enter their house and be pissed.

I wonder if the bottle was like half full cause he drank an entire thing of whiskey.

Oh awesome he got his moms to help, yay and Maggie is a doctor too so that works out well.

It is telling that they felt safer calling Fraser and his parents, rather than their own. Glad Danny is okay though.

Kids really don't allow for no funny bidness.

Oop thats a subtle, "I know you're fucking my wife so stop."

But she said it straight up with her wife, like I know why and what you did but let's not do that. Oh so both parents think their kids are bad influences on one another.

Damn so she habitually does this, their relationship has so many unstable variables and factors.

Awe they are on skype, also I now remember Harper/Cait told Fraser not to kiss anyone else.

Clearly Jennifer is still not watching her kids because her son just left out the door. Her son just left and she didn't even ask him what he was doing.

Is he gonna pray? Set up to look like something bad but he's in reality going to pray?

This gif is beautiful

I am excited for the finale, if this is the 2nd to last episode. They both gonna fall into their queerness fully.