no more it crowd ever

And The Oscar Goes To
Also on AO3
Being publicly in the closet means Stiles can’t go to the Academy Awards with who he really wants, but it’s not like he’s going to win so he doesn’t have to worry about slipping up and thanking Derek in his speech… right?

This one is for my OSA (one sentence anon) who keeps cheering me on and motivating me. I wouldn’t have finished this WIP if it wasn’t for you, so thanks dude, whoever you are!

Earlier in his career, Stiles Stilinski had thought that walking one red carpet meant he had walked them all, but this award season had proved that assumption to be totally false. Walking a red carpet when you’ve been nominated for an award at the show was an entirely new experience. Sure, he had been nominated for People’s Choice Awards and more fan-driven ones before, but this year he had finally broken out of the rom-com and buddy comedy genres and into roles that challenged him. And this year, he was walking the red carpet at the Oscar with the chance to win not just one, but two once he entered the building.

Some had called 2016 his breakout year, others had said they knew that he could do it all along, and others still had questioned his ability to take on some of the more serious roles until they saw the films he was starring in. So here he was, at his third Academy Awards, but this time he was nominated instead of just attending. It had been a nerve-wracking award season that had left Stiles with a Golden Globe, a SAG award, and two Critic’s Choice awards, but none of that would hold a candle to this.

“Stiles, you have to move,” Lydia Martin–his agent and manager–said to him, pushing him toward the final reporter along the carpet. “Smile more.”

Stiles resisted the eyeroll that he could feel building; he didn’t want to be on the cover of some trashy tabloid with his eyes rolled back in his head and a caption commenting on his mental instability or an attitude problem. “Stiles! You look great,” Erica Reyes from Access Hollywood said, her voice sweet as syrup and her lips fire-engine red.  

“So do you, Ms. Reyes. Are you sure I can’t convince you to leave your husband and run away with me?” Stiles said with a charming smile. He had gone to UCLA with Erica’s husband Vernon Boyd and they had been, and still were, good friends. Boyd was currently the star wide receiver for the New Orleans Saints and would kick his ass if he were here in that moment.

“Ah ah ah, you know that I’m loyal,” Erica said with a smile. “But what about you? Who are you here with? Have a hot date that you’re hiding somewhere?”

“Of course I do,” Stiles told her. “My dad’s right over there.”

“Oh! Of course he is; he’s your permanent date during award season.” Erica said and then waved. “Hi, Sheriff.”

John Stilinski waved back with a smile, “Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m wearing?”

“I would, but that’s Laura Hale and I need to catch her before she gets inside. She and that hunky artist brother of hers skipped half the reporters already; I can’t let them skip me,” Erica said, giving Stiles a little smile. “It was lovely talking to you Stiles; good luck!”

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Knighted- Chapter 1

Have ya’ll seen Tides’ art post for this? We started working on this at the same time, and trust me this is gonna be great. 

Please look at Tides’ art first before enjoying, trust me it makes the build better cause then you know what’s coming and how not serious this fic is gonna get.

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I know I’m suppose to be positive about life. I know that. So many people tell me on a daily basis. I know I should put a smile on my face and fight back. I know my problems aren’t the end of the world. But you don’t understand. I’m tired.

I’m tired of looking at my face. I’m tired of not knowing what to do. I’m tired of all the people hurting me, even when they don’t realize they are hurting me.

I’m merely sick and tired.
I feel like such a waste of time, a downgrade, a replaceable, and an empty person.
So instead of standing up and auguring I just sit there silent, I cry until I fall asleep.
I can’t fight back my tears anymore.
I’m sorry I’m not better.
I’m sorry I’m too much to handle.
I’m sorry that I’ve given up.

I feel as if I wasted my whole life to achieve nothing, literally nothing.
I want to find a purpose.
Something to look forward to.
I’m so unhappy and isolated.
For the last 3-4 years I have been so sad.
That sadness has grown inside of me and it’s all I know now. I can’t stop it, I can’t control it. Because even when I’m happy and laughing, it’s seems like it’s still there, just waiting to strike at me and take me down.

I always pretend to be a cold hearted person when in reality I cry about everything, all the time, literally, always crying.

I’ve given up and lost hope. I don’t think I will ever be the girl I used to be. Because of how much my sadness has consumed me, I’m a different person. Walking in large crowds, feeling more lonely than ever. Doing random tasks and only thinking about how much I want to be dead.

Before you go telling me how many people are greatful for me, just think. Did you ever think about the fact that some people just don’t want to live ? 
They have no dramatic reason, they just dont want to live.

I’m sorry I don’t cherish life the way you do. I’m sorry I feel as if I don’t belong here. And I’m sorry that at any given point in time I will just completely give up and die. I’m sorry if me dying is an inconvenience to you. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.

—  I’m just so unhappy here and I’m tired of everything
BTS reaction seeing mean looking girl but actually she’s friendly

anon: Could you do a long BTS reaction to them seeing a girl look mean and cold but when she starts talking with friends she looks nice and friendly? Hyung Line first than Maeknea(?) Line. Sorry, English isn’t my first language.

Hope that it’s long enough >< Still it is short but not that short like my other reactions lol           

Jin

Originally posted by bangtaninspired

Jin walk through the park after practice. He saw attractive girl sitting on the bench. At first he thought that she’s waiting for someone to sock that person because she looked so offended and in nerves. He wanted to come and talk with her but fear that he felt was too hard. When he was thinking about this, still looking at the girl, she catch his sight. She came closer to him and with the most sweet voice which he hear in his life, she asked if she can help him. He didn’t know what to think. Her cold face dissapear and in place of it showed ball of cutness. He couldn’t take his sight away from her. Then she laught because of his weird face expression. Jin slowly backed to his mind. He laught too and realize that maybe it will be nice to start closer relation with her.


“I’m sorry, my name is Jin. Are you waiting for someone?”

Girl: Nah. I were just sitting when I saw you observe me. I’m Y/n

“Yeah sorry. I just thought for a little bit that you are in nerves and….”

Girl: you mean that I look cold,right? Everyone tells me that.

“No,no,no—– Okay. Yes. But now I see how kind you’re. Maybe you want go drink coffee with me?”


Yoongi

Originally posted by yoongies-min

Yoongi was working on new song in his favourite coffee. It was already 3rd hour and he stalled. His ideas ended and for the worse, group of girls comes. This few girls were making more noise than boys in the dorm. But one of them catch his eye. She came last and she stand alone behind her friends. She have cold looking face and her all black outfit didn’t help to not think that he can be kind of rude and presumptous. But Yoongi liked her style. He was looking at her for few seconds waiting when she’ll be alone to go and talk with her. He hope that maybe you won’t kill him when he would try to talk with you. For his surprise girls started to coming closer to him. They wanted to sit with him in the table becasue rest was occupied. When they started to talking he to liked her even more. She was cute, nice and the kindest girl that he met. When girls stand up and heading to doors, he quickly, softly took her arm and ask about phone number. When she gave Yoongi her charming smile and number, he felt like all his inspiration back.

“I know that you can think that I’m some kind of freak but how about exchanging our phone numbers? Btw- I’m Yoongi.”

Girl: “why not? My name is Y/n. Nice to meet you”

Hoseok

Originally posted by yoongistae

Group of girls. No great shakes. But one girl captured his attention. She had style, moves like she is walking on catwalk, all proudly and beamed with  class. He couldn’t take away his eyes from her, amazed with everything what she had (lol, it sounds so badly). When Hoseok do steps to go and talk to her, she turned to him and looked deeply in his eyes. He frozee and turn on his heel like nothing happened and come back to his previous spot. He couldn’t believe what he did. He saw attractive girl but he couldn’t believe that her glare and rude expression made him leave. ‘Why the fuck I’m like this?’. When he scold himself in his mind, he hear cute and soft voice behind him. ‘Excuse me? I think that few seconds ago you wanted to come to us,sorry my friends are too shy to ask you’. Then he frozee again. Is this the same girl? He turn to see her and ….. yes, it was her. He didn’t know what to say. After awkard minutes staring at each other  he finally spoke

“Sorry, I just mistake you with somebody”

Girl: “owh. Sure.

“Okay. Tbh I wanted talk to you but I freak out. I’m sorry that I’m saying this”

Girl: no, no. It’s okay. A lot of people are telling me that I look rude but when you meet me closer I’m really nice girl

“Do you want let me meet you closer?”

Girl: that’s why I send my friends to home. I hope for it.

“So from now on I can be your hope.”

Namjoon

Originally posted by keepingupwithbts

One of the members which don’t care about look. So when he saw cold looking girl he wouldn’t mind it. If he will feel something to girl which make a first impression like- “don’t even come closer ‘cause I’ll kill you with my glare”- he wouldn’t mind it and come talk to her. This day he decided to spend some time alone in ice cream parlor because why not? Hhe catch his eye when she was walking in to place. Atmosphere of winter night which she emit just couldn’t be not noticed. She stand behind him, waiting for her turn to order ice creams. Namjoon was thinking how to speak to her. He was affraid that girl may take him for some kinf of the “player” and that he is always flirting with random girls . When he was deep in his minds he suddenly felt someone small hand on his shoulder. He turn back to see this girl with the most adorable smile that he saw. He forget about his first impression of her being ice hearted person. Monnie awkardly wave to her and saw his chance to ask you out or for phone number.

Girl: I’m sorry that I’m bothering you but I found this wallet on the floor and maybe it’s yours?

“Owh. No, it’s not“

Girl: Aish my bad. Sorry… *pause* Okay, tbh it’s mine wallet. I just wanted to talk with you.

“You too, huh? So maybe we’ll take a seat and meet eachother?”

Girl: Sounds like a nice plan. I’m Y/n.

Jimin

Originally posted by parkjiminer

Standing in the shop looking for products that Jin wanted him to buy. Two girls stand next to him talking, laughing and making plans for something. One of them was enjoing this conversation the most. Mochi would find this girl pretty and attractive but her face and her eyes that were telling to everyone to better don’t come closer or she’ll bite, slightly deter him. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop on her and her friend but they were speaking really loud. Girls speak about voluntary organization and a charity fundraiser which this two’ll be organizing for kennels. Jimin felt intrested in this girl. Outside she looks cold, mean and pugnaciously but inside she comes across as  really nice person and worth get to know her. Chim eavesdrop when and where will be this fundraising. When this day come he took Tae with him-because this boy love dogs. While Tae was all fascinated with this event, Jimin was looking for girl from shop. He saw her standing alone, asking people for money to her charity box. Jimin go to her, giving money and shyly starting a conversation.

“So how long are you volunteer?”

Girl: It’ll be three years.

“Do you want me to help you?”

Girl: why not? More hands to help.

She go to bring Jimin charity box for him. He turned back and looked how alive angel steps on the ground. *gif*

Taehyung

Originally posted by fykimtaehyung

Fansign. One of the best way to meet your bias. Taehyung was enjoying fansign more way then ever. Among the crowd of his fans he saw girl with unusal beauty. She looked sad and deppresed for him. Sometimes her face made him felt shudder. Cold looking but attractive and mystery. Still he was intersted in her. Waiting till she will come to meet him and for autograph, he was making scenarios how to talk to her and make her laugh.  But when he was trying, girl just looked at him, slightly blush and go away. He couldn’t forget about her even after fansing. When no one were watching, he quietly slip out unobserved outside. He saw her with 2 others girls from fansign. Taehyung heared how girls were talking about their experience from fansign and reconstruct it over again. Girl, which catch his eye, showed her real nature. She was too shy to make any move when Tae show to her attention. Her cute side make his heart stopped. When she smiled, her dimples showed and she softly blush thinking about that situantion.
Tae without hesitation came to her and started to talk.

“Hii. I think that you’re soo cute. You look like ice queen but in real you’re the cutest angel ever. Let’s go for a walk.”

girl: oh. yeah. Thank you? I can go for a walk with you.

Jungkook

Originally posted by roselstra

Day like other ones. It can be like this but now he’s sitting in restaurant, surrounded by girls, all screaming and talking in the same time giving him headache. He wanted to be invisible this time. Telling them to shut up or to leave him alone but he didn’t want to  hurt them and in internet could show articles that fame make him self-important and cocky. When he sadly smile to one of his fans, one girl shouted “Ya all better go home and leave him. This boy can’t even breath”. All of girls looked at her. Her face looks killingly and intimidate. Fans bowed and go away before she’ll frezee them with her sight. Then her friends come to her and start to talkinf emotionally about what she did - “damn girl it was the best action ever! You can be a security guard. This is a positive thing in rude looking girl!” She smiled and started to laught. Kookie still being in shook just stared at her. When he manage to say something, he shyly said “thank you”. Girl smiled and with victory on her face, she go to the door. Jungkookie woke up from his shook and call out her.

“Heey. Wait. Maybe there is something that I can do for you as a thank-you for help?”

Girl: I would really loved to. How about dinner?

Mankind as a whole has had a few things to work with since the dawn of time. The skins and bones of animals, the dense and useful limbs and trunks of trees and fire.

So primal, this trio of ancient things that have been touched by so many generations of humankind. Older than your grandmother’s grandmother’s bones. Their is beauty in them, these prehistoric materials.

In Her mind, wood, most of all.

She’d never like her true name. Imogene. It always felt like a winter jacket bought too large. Not tight enough at the cuffs and hem to keep the chill autumn air at bay and too large in the everywhere else to tell who she was underneath.

She’d had so many other names since childhood. Gene, Jean, Blue, Anna(her infrequently used middle name), Saph, and many more that had been lost to the years.

When when first came to this beautiful campus with it’s gorgeous mason work arches and it’s hand carved crown molding in The Old Building she was in awe.

When she found at orientation they had a vocational major for Carpentry she fell in love. Head over heels. Her curly blue hair standing out in the crowd more than her feminine features or skin tone ever did in other schools. The ratio wasn’t too much or too little, men and women were there in equal measure and some of her classmates looked like a beautiful mix of both.

Freshman year flew by, days feeling like weeks, weeks feeling like months, and the girl fell in love with the campus and her classes.

All the strange and Old traditions, leaving honey and cream packets at the picnic table on her way to Composition, and carving crude necklaces to hang on low branch trees on the terrace. Her old dorm room with it’s 5 creaky floorboards, all red pine, the grain squeezed tight and aged like a setting sun. Her strange Engineering major roomamte, their clothes always covered in oil spots, their pockets filled with 10 penny iron nails and salt packets. Gidge, she called them, and it stuck like glue and fit like it was custom made.

She fell even harder for her class, the pleasantly bitter smell of the varnish room, the dry and sweet smell of the main workshop with it’s ancient 24" planer that had outlived her great grandma according to it’s manufacture date. Her wonderfully strange teacher, his beard belt length and always braided, carved beads clacking in his hair and pencils tucked behind each ear. Also the wood, every piece and scrap, every off cut and joint was art and function. The deep Royal purple of South American heartwood, the crisp and swirling grain of White Pine, Straight hickory boards yearning to become handles and have a purpose. Rowan, Ash, Elder and Yew. So much to use. It was dizzying.

She fell hardest of all for the girl in 4A, her hair shifting like the seasons, maybe even with the seasons. She started showering earlier just to hear her sing sweet Irish folk songs. It took her 4 weeks to learn her name.

It was Gaelic. Aoife. It came out as “Ee-fa” with a smile like the sun and crinkled eyes that reminded her of a cat’s. She’d never felt blessed before that day.

When she spoke her name with another 120 watt smile the girl thought she’d faint. “Well met Blue~” her still wet and very purple hair cast about like Lavender in a storm.

She never knew that her singing voice was heard during late nights in The Shop and her gifts were quietly taken by Good Neighbors that weren’t quite students yet they lived on campus and that her old patinaed hammer that stayed at her belt was a deterrent to more than a lone thief looking for quick cash.

Freshman year flew to a close as the seasons changed and Aofie’s hair morphed and their friendship grew to something tenuous that they danced about as winter fell and they both decided staying for the holidays would be easier.

Blue had learned so much, about her classes, her peers, her roommate, and Aofie.

And so very little about the Why of things.

Why did her roommate wear a ring on a chain they never wore on their hand?

Why were there never salt packets in the dining hall?

Why were all the safe campus walkways the one’s bordered with heavy iron chain and not the well lit ones?

And finally, the biggest Why she’d yet to ask herself.

Why did she choose This school out of all her choices?

So many things are learned and found and lost during Freshman year at Elsewhere University. Friends, songs, and the typical silliness of college.

Like Gidge’s rhyme.

“Read your pamphlets, know yout path and learn the exact sound of your roommate’s laugh.”

[x]

anonymous asked:

You should do sth of harry with a family friend! Like a friend of his from kindergarden or sth!

Hi, I absolutely love your blog :) I was wondering if you could write a blurb about you graduating from University/College and then your ‘famous’ boyfriend Harry turns up. Maybe him like ‘rewarding’ you for doing well. A little bit sweet and smutty if you could :) xx

Joined these.  It’s a bit long.  But well worth it.  Enjoy.

“Don’t forget your hat.”  I heard my mother yell as I tore out of the car.  I was late.  So late.  Who the hell is late for their college graduation?   Me.  That’s who.

I didn’t start out late.  I woke up early.  I took my shower.  I even did my hair and makeup.  But my dad was insistent on getting pictures and video.  And my sister was in one of her “I’m a senior in high school and everything in the world is stupid” moments.  So by the time we actually left my house, I was late.

I told my friends, Shelby and Anna to go on without me since both looked entirely exasperated that we hadn’t left yet.  Looking back on it now, I should have just left with them.

I made it just in time to take my spot in front of Shelby before we walked out onto the green grass.  Shelby shook her head,

“And she makes it…”

I turned to look at her,

“Help me!”  I whisper/yelled as I tried desperately to get my hat on so it looked decent.

Shelby finally snatched the hat out of my hand and fixed it before placing it on my head,

“There…would you calm down?”

“Calm down?  I can’t calm down.  I’m supposed to make a speech.”

Shelby nodded,

“Yes.  As valedictorian of the class that’s your job.”  She said under her breath as we walked out onto the stage to face our fellow students.

“It sucks.  I should have left out the joke.”

Shelby rolled her eyes,

“Would you stop.  It doesn’t suck.  It’s fine.  As class President, I’m ordering you to make the speech.”

I looked at her, horrified, as we sat in our chairs,

“Can you do that?”

She shook her head,

“Oh my God…”  She said through giggles as she walked to the podium.

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spit fire - chapter nineteen

i saw you in the party, soft lips, soft spoken

“Normally, and you know this, I’m not on Farrah’s side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven’t been out once this semester and we’re almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn’t let him keep you in.”

“I don’t.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn’t the case. Not one bit.

“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It’s kind of sad, really.”

Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”

read below - catch up here - ask me things here

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It’s interesting to me that so many people are ready to give Ms. Val the boot from UCLA. I feel like you guys are forgetting the business aspect at play here: Ms. Val has effectively created a gymnastics program whose draw and prestige doesn’t depend on winning a national title.

Most high achieving / well known sports programs are that way because they have a strong foundation of winning big. And that drives viewer interest / ticket sales and marketing opportunity. Most importantly it drives recruitment. Good athletes naturally want to go to a school and team that they can win with.

UCLA has essentially beaten that system. Yes, they do still have to deliver and not making it to Nationals so consistently would be highly problematic, but they don’t have to be crowned national champions, or even division champions to maintain what they have.

People are going to be fans of the team because they have former elites competing. People are going to buy tickets to see them up close and having fun in a smaller arena. And elite gymnastics are still going to want to go to UCLA because Ms. Val has a fun quirky program that lets them throw dream skills like Katelyn Ohashis full on beam and have “unique” chorography by the one and only Ms. Val. And ex-elites bring their other big name friends with them. People love it that Simone shows up to watch a meet. And Jordyn Wieber still has a place in the picture as the team manager even though she can’t compete. One more Olympian for the crowds to pay to come see.

Ever notice that this is the team being talked about on Ellen? Or that publications that generally just cover Olympic contenders is writing pieces on Kyla and Maddie’s transitions to college? All of this is great publicity for UCLA, and in a time where gymnastics programs are being cut left and right for not making enough money, I’m sure it looks great to the athletic directors office. Probably even better then a national championship of a sport that most people (sadly) don’t watch outside of an Olympic year.

Is UCLA not living up to their potential? Yes. Do they probably need to work on mental strength and conditioning? Undoubtedly. But do they need to oust the head coach that created a dream marketing opportunity and herself is a huge reason recruites come to the school. Absolutely not. And it’s not going to happen.

theguardian.com
The truth about Venezuela: a revolt of the well-off, not a 'terror campaign' | Mark Weisbrot | Opinion | The Guardian

“These people are not hurting – they’re doing very well. Their income has grown at a healthy pace since the Chávez government got control of the oil industry a decade ago. They even get an expensive handout from the government: anyone with a credit card (which excludes the poor and millions of working people) is entitled to $3,000 per year at a subsidized exchange rate. They can then sell the dollars for 6 times what they paid in what amounts to a multi-billion dollar annual subsidy for the privileged – yet it is they who are supplying the base and the troops of the rebellion.

The class nature of this fight has always been stark and inescapable, now more than ever. Walking past the crowd that showed up for the March 5 ceremonies to mark the anniversary of Chávez’s death, it was a sea of working-class Venezuelans, tens of thousands of them. There were no expensive clothing or $300 shoes. What a contrast to the disgruntled masses of Los Palos Grandes, with $40,000 Grand Cherokee Jeeps bearing the slogan of the moment: SOS VENEZUELA.”

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Part X

Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Summary: In this story we get to know Jensen and (Y/N), two humans that have to learn, that despite their brain, they can’t outrun their heart.
When a smiliar friend of them, Jared, introduces the two, sparks fly. They understand each other better than anyone, so it’s no surprise the two eventually end up in bed together. Only condition - No feelings.
Neither of them is the relationship person, and neither of them is ready to act on their emotions. So what happens when out of one night, another one follows, and they have to learn that they can’t live without the other? Will they stop being so stubborn and admit their feelings? Or will it be too late when one finally has the balls to do it?
Warning: none

CLTGC - Masterlist


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Looking Back

Here we go, as promised. One Warden!Carver fic that(to no one’s surprise) kinda got away from me.


At first he thought they were part of his dreams. He’d been having nightmares about darkspawn since he joined the Wardens; why wouldn’t the chittering and shrieks be part of that?

“Hawke, get up!” A string of obscenities and the low crackle-hiss of something being flash-frozen followed the demand.

So, not dreaming. Kendal cursing was never part of his dreams. Carver pushed himself upright and scrubbed sleep out of his eyes. If he was honest, he’d thought Kendal didn’t curse.

“Hawke, I swear on Andraste’s pyre, if you ain’t out here in the next ten seconds-”

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On the train, I read Jane Eyre, for the first time: she’s one of my favourite characters in fiction. I so understand her when she says, “I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings with positive, hard characters, antagonistic to my own, between absolute submission and determined revolt.” I like to feel myself alone in a crowd and yet part of it, more than I ever did: it’s the way a writer should live.
—  Christopher Isherwood, diary entry dated October 9, 1943

I am going to submit a random headcanon to you:  

Stiles dragging the pack to play Laser Tag.

Stiles that played once, when he was twelve. He asked it as his birthday present, and John and Melissa drove them to the nearest place from Beacon Hills. Stiles was absolutely delighted, until they learned that they would be put with strangers to form a team. It all went downhill from there. 

They were left alone to be shot at fifteen seconds in, and had to hide under a ramp. Scott had an asthma attack when the fog machines started and Stiles, terrified, had to drag both of them out. He then fell into a full blown panic attack in the changing rooms.

So, not their best memory.

But fast forward seven years later. They are nineteen now, Scott is a werewolf and Stiles has been tortured and shot at. Laser tag is gonna be easy. Stiles is so ready to avenge their younger selves.

He only need a team.

Stiles prudently presents the idea during pack night. He’s not worried for most of them, he knows that most of his friends have an unhealthy love for violence and winning. He’s also ready to make Scott cry in order to convince Isaac.


The only unknown variable is their taciturn alpha. Somehow, convincing him to play with lasers in a room reeking of teenager’s hormones and sweat seems like a difficult task. But Stiles has prepared his speech, he has perfectly reasonable arguments, and he will bullshit about pack unity and trust exercises if need be.

Of course, because this is Derek and he likes to fuck up with Stiles’ expectations, he’s only finished the first sentence of his passionate plea when Derek raises one hand in the air to stop him.

Yes,” he breathes, and smiles. They all blink at him a little. Derek keeps smiling, bunny teeth showing and looking almost… excited.

So.

Derek’s family apparently used to throw their kids into the woods to pitch them against each other for fun.

Stiles is not surprised.

Stiles is awfully not surprised.

This was the family whose genes created Peter Hale.

Not noticing their stunned silence, Derek describes his childhood memories. During their monthly run under the full moon, adults used to hide colored pieces of tissue everywhere. The next day, Derek, his sisters and cousins were all let loose, in several teams, into the wood. At dusk, the team that was able to bring back the more targets to their home base while protecting said home base from enemy raids won. The prize was some old trophy, bragging rights and first crack at every dish during the huge dinner.

Derek is trying so hard to communicate his enthusiasm for his claws-and-fangs-allowed, hunger-game version of catch the flag that his hands are moving a little bit in the air. It’s adorable.

When Scott tries to get back on the subject of laser tag (Stiles glares at him, because Derek was sharing things), Derek immediately nods and explains helpfully that there is a place supernatural-friendly just 45 minutes away from Beacon Hills. There is no protest in the pack. Stiles bats the air with his fist in victory.

Their first game together teaches Stiles a lot of things.

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anonymous asked:

if you could talk about an AU on how Newt meets Graves and how they end up falling for each other that would be much appreciated ❤

You mean talk as in discus or talk as in theorize? Either way, sure I’m up to it! And since I’m not sure what you mean, I’m just going to theorize below. If you want to discus anything you know where to find me.  ❤


For the lovely anon, @realpercivalgraves, @director-percival-graves, @vehuhia and @macusa-directorofmagicalsecurity, hope you guys like it ^^

Newt doesn’t come often to these extravagant ministry parties. They’re loud and chaotic and everyone seems just a tad too drunk for his tastes. But Theseus seems to enjoy them immensly and people tend to leave Newt alone. Because he is just a lowly ministry worker in the Beast Division and what could possibly be important about that?

There’s something special about this party however, delegates from all over the world have been invited and it’s more crowded and chaotic than ever. Newt walks out onto the balcony, feeling comfort in the moderate evening air that is summertime in London. It soothes his skin and calms his senses to the point where he almost feels relaxed.

However he’s not alone, as he quickly finds out. There’s another man on the balcony, who seems gruff, wearing a military uniform and smoking his cigarette while looking out over the upper class of wizarding London in the garden below. He introduces himself as Percival Graves, and Newt has heard that name before. They talk throughout the night and by the time the party is over he has the man’s contact information and a promise to write him every month.

He looks forward to those letters and writes him back every single time. He knows he’s young, barely eighteen and he shouldn’t be writing to a man his brother’s age. It’s improper. But it doesn’t stop him from doing so.

Then Newt is drafted on the Eastern front in the last years of the war, and low and behold, he meets Percival there. The man is a captain and his superior officer. Once again it’s improper for them to interact, but neither of them care. They enjoy each other’s company, they spend the nights out of battle together, just reading together or talking throughout the evening. Nothing too improper that could jeopardize either of their careers.

The war ends eventually, Newt is hailed as a dragon tamer and Percival is awarded with so many medals he could start an entire collection. Theseus receives an order of Merlin. Percival returns to America, Newt returns to England. However they keep up their correspondence for years. At the age of twenty three, Newt travels to America and stays with Percival for several weeks.

It starts innocent enough, two old friends coming together. But gradually their friendship develops into something more. They’ve known each other for over five years, but still they decide to take things slow. It starts with a kiss, cuddling together under a blanket during the cold New York nights.

But all too soon it’s time for Newt to travel on to South America, and so he does. 

As he drops Newt off and watches him board the boat, the sun lighting up his ginger hair like red flames and a soft, sad smile on his face with the promise to return within a few months. Percival realizes he’s actually in love with young Newt Scamander.

And when Newt returns four months later to find Percival’s apartment covered in roses upon his arrival, he realises he’s fallen too.

i won’t reminisce high school at all, it’s just gonna be 4 years of my life i spent as ghost

When he was very little, Harry thought his Aunt and Uncle knew everything that happened in the entire house. It was hard to think about how really hidden away he was when his cousin could jump up and down on the stairs above him to sprinkle dust and plaster on his hair. The walls were solid even if they were thin, but he would still freeze whenever someone stood on the other side of his door, like they would notice him if he flinched.

It was the same motion of STOP in his brain that he felt under the light weight of the invisibility cloak those years later. It was the same press of his back against the nearest hard surface, the same still breath and hand over his mouth and wide, sharp eyes as the stern shape of an adult moved past him, unseeing and unknowing but not for lack of ability to find.

It wasn’t until he ran out of fingers to count his age on that he understood that they couldn’t see him; that his place in the cupboard was chosen because it kept him out of sight, out of mind, in a place where he could only irritate the small spiders in the corners. His family didn’t want him in the house, so they had created a way to pretend like he wasn’t there. It was rather resourceful of them, actually, Harry once thought.

After that, he started creeping into the kitchen at night. The clock ticked quietly, turning from 1:29 in the morning to 1:30 and chiming in the booming sounds that made Aunt Petunia shriek when she had a headache. But there was no Aunt Petunia here now, and he was quieter than the clock as he climbed onto the kitchen counter to reach the snack foods that were kept on the highest shelf. They were for Dudley, but when they’d been noticed to be missing before, Harry had gotten in trouble despite the smudge of chocolate on Dudley’s chin. After that, he’d figured he might as well.

At Hogwarts during the years of Dumbledore, it was information that was kept on the highest shelf, and so it was to the restricted section that he crept to after bedtime. The magicked flames and lanterns that lit the hallways were not so different from the flickering of the suburban streetlamps through the kitchen window. But they were also of course entirely different, because now he had the invisibility cloak and so any long shadow that he might see following him out of the corner of his eye was guaranteed not to be his.

And the times he was caught, he didn’t do much more than blink at Filch’s sneering glee. How could that be any scarier, after all, from Dudley’s smirk as he called up the stairs with a “Mother! The thing is out of its closet again!” and an accusation of theft? It couldn’t be. The hot coal in his gut that filled him with steam and smoke and once again made him lock up and stammer was by now an old friend. Let Filch, let Snape, let any of them try to find Harry when he did not want to be found. Let that scar of his make him more visible in a crowd of strangers than he’d ever been at home. Let them send him into the forbidden forest at night and tell him about all of the creatures that hid inside. Harry Potter knew about hiding. He had the empathy of hot steam in his gut for things that hid and did not want to be found. If they attacked, he would understand their rage and their fear, and pushed into visibility himself, he would match it.

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