in recent years the internet has really become a place for people to spread non-media regulated information and for social justice movements to find their footing. i cannot stop thinking about how this is probably a huge huge reason why net neutrality has been on the chopping block so frequently lately. they want to control what we see because they want to make sure their authority isn’t questioned and they want to make sure people can’t unite. it’s scary.
TITLE — long distance. WARNINGS — mature content and some swearing. WORD COUNT — 2,901 words. AUTHOR’S NOTE — i can’t even believe my last fic got over 300 notes, that’s insane, thank you so much. uh, this was supposed to be short and smutty but the angst in me came out to wreak havoc. it also turned out much longer than i intended (story of my life). and that fluff bit at the end? i don’t know her. anyway, hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading !
You’re woken up at 2:09 AM by a constant and nagging vibration, the glare of your phone guiding you as you blindly reach for the device. Through heavy-lidded eyes you study the name displayed on the screen and the sappy emojis that follow.
It’s your boyfriend.
“Hey,” you say, voice dripping with dread and worry, and fatigue. It’s silent on the other end safe for some rustling and just as you’re about to call after him, there’s a muted groan.
“B-bae?” He sighs into the transmitter—a sigh of relief. “Fuck,” he sobs. “I miss y-you. I… fuck.” Another sob. “Baby?”
Caleb McLaughlin WILL get the recognition he DESERVES just like the rest of the Stranger Things crew. He put his time and talent into the show and I️ REFUSE to have people forget about Lucas when mentioning the kids. He’s ’ literally the only black child on set and if that’s not alienating then I️ don’t know what is!!! so the least people can do is show him even half of the love y’all show for the other kids.
Always echoing the director’s determined steps are the soft paws of the creature padding alongside him, watchful and vigilant.
Posted a wip for this a while back in response to a prompt by @thegaypumpingthroughyourveins and finally managed to finish it up yessss (Also thank you so much everyone for the response and ideas to that omg
❤︎) Now, please don’t consider people blaming any odd behavior on Graves’ part on the sudden disappearance of his canine companion :)
Art blog: questionartbox [Commission Info] [Ko-Fi] [Society6]
farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, 3.1k, post-ragnarok fic, look at me in your lighthearted movies writing angsty whump fic. note that I stole a few things in this fic (with permission!) from @portraitoftheoddity so give her some love. also cw for torture, I told you it was angsty whump fic
have a feeling it will all work out,” Thor said, and the moment he did Loki
knew that it absolutely, absolutely would not.
As usual, at least on these
matters, he was right.
He felt the shadow before he
registered what cast it. “What in the Nine is that,” Thor said, and Loki turned
his head, looking up at the ship looming huge and dark over them. There was no
particular sign of its allegiance, or its owner, but Loki’s stomach sank and
his eyes widened, panic fluttering in his throat. He knew.
“That,” he said, and his voice came
out sounding like little more than a croak, “is the beginning of the
[All of this happened because I wanted to write something about Stiles not being able to sleep without his pillow. Spoiler alert: his pillow is Derek.]
Derek tries not to look too hurt when Stiles says he’s going back to Washington, but when the Sheriff claps his back and Scott offers him a friendly hug, he knows he failed. But after everything, after the other night - it just doesn’t feel fair.
“It was a nice road trip, wasn’t it?” Stiles had said after they’ve won, after everything was done, their friends were alive and fine and Derek finally got his loft back. “I mean, we had some fun, right?”
Derek smiled without looking away from the flowers the Sheriff got him as a housewarming gift. “Yeah.” He answered, finally turning around. “It was nice to spend time with you.” It was more than nice and he cursed himself for not being able to say it, still, after everything, after the nights spent driving and talking and fucking in deserted roads.
“Yeah.” Stiles agreed easily. He was the one who started it after all, always showing up to save Derek - despite Derek saving him back plenty of times - always being there, trusting him, smiling and laughing like Derek makes him happy. “What will you do now that you’re a free man again?”
Derek shrugged. “I always wanted to start a farm, maybe raise some sheep?” When Stiles blinked at him, surprised, Derek let out a snort.
“Fuck you, I almost believed it!” Stiles said, punching his shoulder.
“You’re ridiculous.” Derek shook his head, still smiling.
“You’re ridiculous.” Stiles stressed, his hand still on Derek’s shoulder, touching, teasing. “I’m -“ Derek didn’t let him finish then, turning around and just pressing their lips together.
He didn’t want to listen then - and in hindsight maybe he should’ve - but without the haste, the guilt of having a nice time whilst their friends could be dying, Derek couldn’t wait, he just wanted to worship Stiles’ body, just wanted to kiss all the places he couldn’t reach before when they were squeezed in the backseat of Stiles’ car.
And so he did, he made Stiles moan his name the entire night and he moaned Stiles’ own just as louder. Just to have his heart crushed the morning after.
“I’m gonna miss you.” Stiles says, his Jeep packed and ready to go. To leave everything behind.
It’s unfair, Derek knows. Stiles didn’t make promises and neither did he, but he can’t help how he feels. He understands Stiles doesn’t want to be in Beacon Hills anymore and that’s his choice, but Derek made his own and he’s tired of running away.
He’s never felt closer to his family than when he’s here, he’s already lost enough and he doesn’t want to lose his home. But somehow, as Stiles drives away, he feels like he just did.
I miss you, Derek thinks every day, staring at the black screen of his phone and wondering if he should actually write those words and send them to Stiles. He decides against it and despite the fact he was joking before, on the third day after Stiles left, Derek buys a farm.
He tells Lydia first during lunch at her favorite restaurant - she was adamant they had to become best friends and Derek enjoys her company so he lets it happen easily - and she tells him he’s not allowed to wear plaid around her. Then he tells Scott and two days later, he shows up at Derek’s front door with all kinds of seeds - “We need pumpkins for Halloween, Derek. Make it happen!”.
It’s something to do with his hands, something to work on. Create life, instead of ending them, build things, instead of destroying. He feels good, better and healing. Cora says he’s calmer now and Derek smiles, despite knowing she won’t be able to see him, and tells her he is.
Some days Stiles texts him, others he doesn’t. Derek reads the ones he has every night before going to bed, but he never answers them.
Daughter of the music director for the AMAs shares her experience in seeing BTS rehearse
“I heard a lot of english “thank you’s and they were really respectful and really professional every time that they needed them back on stage they were right there, ready to go, which is sort of rare. I’ve been going to the AMAs for, I wanna say, 10 years, and possibly even longer than that and I’ve gone to plenty of dress rehearsals… and I’ve seen a lot of disrespectful celebrities and it was really refreshing seeing that there are still people who treat the people who are putting them on their show with respect and I just respect them so much more now. And I thought I would come on here and say that because I think that people who are kind deserved to be recognised for that.”