Imagine being Stiles’ little sister and you and Liam are cuddling on your bed, watching movies late at night, and Stiles walks in and does a double-take, but you and Liam don’t notice him, so he kind of just smiles and closes the door for you.
——— Request for anon ———
“Where’s the lamb sauce?” wanders from your bedroom into the hallway of the Stilinski house, catching Stiles’ ears as he passes your room by and causing him to glance inside the open door. He nearly passes by before he registers the sight inside. You and Liam, snuggled up on your bed as Gordon Ramsay shouts at the Hell’s Kitchen teams on your television screen.
Neither of you notice him as he works through his brief confusion before a small smile moves over his lips at the cuteness of the two of you. Stiles reaches for the doorknob, pulling the door slightly more closed for you.
Liam glances towards the door as it closes, his ears catching the slight squeak it makes, but is pulled back to the show as you chuckle, “Ramsay’s gonna’ bust a gasket! Look at how red he’s getting!”
Is this a potentially challenging time to mount a show that has an earnest, straightforward story and that isn’t, perhaps, a cornerstone of musical-theater history?
Benanti: We’re not “Hamilton.” But there wouldn’t be a “Hamilton” if there weren’t a “She Loves Me” or “Gypsy” or “The King and I.” Krakowski: I did see Scott’s original revival. It feels, as it does now, like this beautiful jewel box. For a musical that isn’t as well known, it’s quite a perfect little piece.
So instead of revising for exams I’ve watched the first season of The Expanse, finally, and: 1. Holy shit, b) I’m in love with Naomi Nagata (and so is James Holden, what, I mean, nothing), and iii I need Netflix to put season 2 up asap and/or I need to acquire the books
He was, himself, moreover, composed of two elements, which were, to all appearance, incompatible. He was ironical and cordial. His indifference loved. His mind could get along without belief, but his heart could not get along without friendship. A profound contradiction; for an affection is a conviction.