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For the Writers out there: Common Injuries And How To Treat Them

jellicleoverlord:

In my experience, RPers and Writers alike enjoy one thing: Making characters suffer. This little guide is supposed to help you with keeping injuries and the First Aid - in case you want to patch your character back together - realistic. 
I am no medical professional, but I dare say I picked up a thing or two during my First Aid school-medic training ;)

Under read more for length! Also, trigger warnings for blood, I suppose?

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1 week ago on May 10th, 2013 |J |VIA -SOURCE

A Time and Place - gangnamstiles - Merlin (TV) [Archive of Our Own] ⇢

Rating: General Audience
Pairing: Merthur
Warnings: Major Character Death

1 week ago on May 9th, 2013 |J

Somebody on AO3 bookmarked my fic with the tag “hate the author’s name but really like the fic”. I feel oddly accomplished.

In other news, expect me to be posting again soon!

1 week ago on May 9th, 2013 |J
youshinebrighter21:

icouldbepackstiles:

In which Stiles and Derek hold hands when they sleep.

“You know otters hold hands when they sleep?”
Derek’s response is something between a noncommittal grunt and a noise of inquiry that doesn’t mean talk forever, but it doesn’t mean shut up either.
“They do,” Stiles says, gently tightening his grip on Derek’s hand. “They hold hands while they sleep so they won’t float away from each other.”
Derek’s eyes open, then, and Stiles tries to pretend Derek won’t hear the way his heart skips. In the dim light from the full moon outside, Stiles is having an all too familiar problem trying to figure out if Derek’s eyes are hazel or green or gold or maybe a little red.
“That what you’re doing?” Derek finally murmurs, voice a soft rumble that lilts across the space between them. “Holding me so I won’t float away?”
Stiles could be flippant, he knows. Could answer in a way that masks the lump in his throat and hides the ache in his chest that’s become a constant wherever Derek’s involved. But they’ve spent too many nights pretending that Derek doesn’t wake up shaking because of nightmares -
“You should smile more, Derek. The world should know how happy you are.”
“You mean how happy you make me?”
“Yeah. Something like.”
- and that Stiles doesn’t remember what it feels like to watch the line of his mother’s heartbeat slow until it’s a straight, painstakingly even line.
“We’ll turn the monitors off so you won’t hear when it flatlines, okay? It will make things easier if…”
“Leave them on. I don’t want easier.”
“Maybe,” Stiles finally whispers, stroking his thumb over the back of Derek’s hand. “Or maybe you’re doing that for me.”

youshinebrighter21:

icouldbepackstiles:

In which Stiles and Derek hold hands when they sleep.

“You know otters hold hands when they sleep?”

Derek’s response is something between a noncommittal grunt and a noise of inquiry that doesn’t mean talk forever, but it doesn’t mean shut up either.

“They do,” Stiles says, gently tightening his grip on Derek’s hand. “They hold hands while they sleep so they won’t float away from each other.”

Derek’s eyes open, then, and Stiles tries to pretend Derek won’t hear the way his heart skips. In the dim light from the full moon outside, Stiles is having an all too familiar problem trying to figure out if Derek’s eyes are hazel or green or gold or maybe a little red.

“That what you’re doing?” Derek finally murmurs, voice a soft rumble that lilts across the space between them. “Holding me so I won’t float away?”

Stiles could be flippant, he knows. Could answer in a way that masks the lump in his throat and hides the ache in his chest that’s become a constant wherever Derek’s involved. But they’ve spent too many nights pretending that Derek doesn’t wake up shaking because of nightmares -

“You should smile more, Derek. The world should know how happy you are.”

“You mean how happy you make me?”

“Yeah. Something like.”

- and that Stiles doesn’t remember what it feels like to watch the line of his mother’s heartbeat slow until it’s a straight, painstakingly even line.

“We’ll turn the monitors off so you won’t hear when it flatlines, okay? It will make things easier if…”

“Leave them on. I don’t want easier.”

“Maybe,” Stiles finally whispers, stroking his thumb over the back of Derek’s hand. “Or maybe you’re doing that for me.”

2 months ago on March 6th, 2013 |J |VIA -SOURCE

Where I Stood [big bang] ⇢

For the Teen Wolf Superbang!

Title Where I Stood

Author rolling_atlas
Artist kennestu
Pairing: Stiles/Derek Hale
Word Count: 24,000
Rating: Teen&Up
Warnings: Off-Screen Character Death, Depictions of Torture/Violence
Summary: Stiles is thirty when the wheels of Derek’s car hit Beacon Hills again.
3 months ago on January 27th, 2013 |J

Revel in Victory ⇢

thelittlewolfboy:

Five ways that the aftermath of Allison’s possession by a demon didn’t happen and one way it did. No explicit pairings in this fic.

5 months ago on December 1st, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE

Track My Every Movement

thingsthat-emilee-writes:

Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Notes: Complete. Based on. AU, set a few years in the future.
Warnings: Mentions of Kate and the fire.

Derek has had a lot of problems with his past, especially centered around sex. Over the years, Stiles has helped him through so much, and this is a big test of everything they’ve worked on.

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6 months ago on November 16th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE

sassygwaine:

teen wolf au: 

Lydia and Stiles are spirits, enslaved and used for their powers by the enchanter, Peter Hale. Peter has grown too strong and can no longer be ignored. The Legion of Wolves and Hunters (which sounds a lot more eloquent in French), sends out their three best operatives to find Peter and either kill him or find the source of his power — And, if need be, to get rid of that as well.

“So, what? You think the LDL can just send in a few pups and a girl with a bow and arrow and fix this?” The form in front of them wavers, solidifying to the point where if Scott reached out, he might be able to touch it. 

“Be kind, Stiles,” a voice says from next to the group. Allison pulls a dagger from her boot and holds it in front of her. The fear on her face is palpable as the knife flies from her hand and embeds itself in a nearby tree. “They obviously don’t know who they’re dealing with.” A fiery red head materializes from beside the tree, eyes calming from a bright glowing white. The smirk on her face is predatory. 

“Think they could benefit from us showing them?” The other spirit — Stiles — muses, walking over. Scott thinks it looks like he’s walking on a moving sidewalk, the steps taking him further than they would take a human — like he’s floating. There’s no crunch of leaves under foot, just silence as the three of them keep their eyes trained on the two spirits. 

“We’re not here for you.” It’s Derek who speaks up, which makes the hair on Scott’s neck jump. To all of their surprise, he stands up straight and holsters his sidearm, which he never really needs to begin with. It’s for show, just like the electric rod that Scott is holding. Allison glares at Derek, lowering her hand and reaching for her other boot. “Please,” he bites. “Like our weapons could do shit to them.”

A laughs splits the air and the three hunters turn to look at the spirits. Stiles, who has solidified so much so that the only way to tell him apart from a human being is the fact that he’s greyed out, like looking at somebody through foggy glass, has his head tipped back and his mouth open. “You,” he says, lowering his head and leveling Derek with an unnerving grin. “I like you.” The hair on the back of Scott’s neck is still raised, prickling to where it’s almost painful. He glances over to Allison, whose jaw is clenched and whose eyes are bordering on dangerous. He hears the leather of her glove creak when she flexes her grip. He follows her line of sight to the red headed spirit, whose form is almost completely opaque. 

“We should take them to Peter,” the spirit says, looking directly at Allison. Stiles frowns and looks over at her. 

“Of course,” he agrees, though everything about his body language suggests that he thinks otherwise. Scott catches a spike of alcohol taint the air, and he guesses that even spirits have scents and emotions. And right now, there’s only fear. 

coming soon !

6 months ago on November 15th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE
kaciart:


happyharpywings asked you: 



Um. Well, could I suggest some Sterek, perhaps? Uh, maybe something sexY? I’m so terribly sorry, I always feel so awkward about these kinds of things… Q_Q

Somehow it seemed sexier in my head. D:



(notice the one going around was in fact not from the original source, so I’ll be deleting that. 
for those who reblogged the other one, please give credit where credit is due!)

kaciart:

Um. Well, could I suggest some Sterek, perhaps? Uh, maybe something sexY? I’m so terribly sorry, I always feel so awkward about these kinds of things… Q_Q
Somehow it seemed sexier in my head. D:

(notice the one going around was in fact not from the original source, so I’ll be deleting that. 

for those who reblogged the other one, please give credit where credit is due!)

6 months ago on November 5th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE

Home Alone was a Movie, Not an Alibi ⇢

It starts, as most things do, when Stiles tries to be a nice person and get Derek a job. It’s all downhill from there.

6 months ago on November 5th, 2012 |J

I Want to Know You

tylerposeysjawline:

Human AU in which Derek and Stiles meet in a coffee shop in Santa Monica and then spend their summer together. Derek likes to write; Stiles likes to talk.

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6 months ago on November 5th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE

He Takes His Coffee Black: a Sterek FanFiction ⇢

breenwolf:

AUTHOR: breenwolf
RATING: mature
WORDS: 16,846
TAGS: coffee shop au
SUMMARY:On the cusp of actual, responsible adulthood with no ambitions to his name, Derek Hale (soon to be Derek Hale, Master of Physical Therapy) is faced with the dishearteningly underwhelming notion of his future. For his final winter break, Derek returns home to his family’s coffee shop where he spends the dry winter days filling aggravating orders for equally aggravating people and burning his hands with scalding milk.

It’s the last place on earth he expects to find a kindred spirit, but some twitchy kid named Stiles— with his simple order of one black coffee and a wry little grin— turns out to be just that.

7 months ago on October 20th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE

We Are All Diamonds ⇢

Pairing: Merthur
134,304 words
Explicit
Modern AU with magic 

As the precocious heir of a diamond magnate and a famous designer, Arthur lived his entire life sheltered, protected, nurtured and spoiled. He always knew that he would have to step out from behind the scenes and into the limelight to run the family business some day, but he never expected that it would happen so soon or that he would encounter resistance from a board of directors who believe that his disability makes him unfit to lead.

Merlin has stood on every stage in every city in the world, performing to critical acclaim, but after years of globetrotting, he’s well and truly burnt out. He didn’t quit — he ran away from stardom, dropping to obscurity in the blink of an eye, forgotten, just another face in the crowd. He’s aimless and without purpose until a friend asks him to fill in on a job.

Neither Arthur nor Merlin are looking for salvation. They don’t think there’s any for them, that things are just too rotten, too far gone. But in the end, Arthur’s quiet strength will be a balm to Merlin’s broken soul, and it will be in Merlin’s steadfast faith that Arthur finds courage.

7 months ago on October 15th, 2012 |J

the pandora swing station is literally the best while writing fallout

7 months ago on October 12th, 2012 |J

Wolf at the Door: Chapter 1 (Redux)

mysticmysteron:

Universe: Teen Wolf - Canon-Compliant, takes place directly after S02E12

Pairing: Stiles/Derek

Chapter Rating: G

Story Rating: E

Author: Mysteron (me)

Word Count: 1,496

Status: WiP

A/N: A few things to note.  First, this is a complete re-write of the original first chapter, and it’s very different.  If you happen to have read the other one, its probably best to forget that it happened and just enjoy this one for what it is, rather than trying to compare the two.  I don’t know if one is better than the other, per se, but this version felt more authentic to me from a character development standpoint.  I apologize to anyone who doesn’t like the direction I took the story in.

Second, this chapter is short.  Sorry about that.  The next one (which is already 2/3 completed) will be much longer.

Third: although this story is mostly canon-compliant, it’s important to note that the Alpha pack has NOT shown up yet.

This is a story about two damaged people trying to learn how to adapt to each other.  It’s not an easy story, but it won’t always be a sad one.

——————————————

The sky keeps staring at me
Frozen in my tracks
(Nothing else to see)
And when I move my face left
You’re always standing there
(A shadow I can’t see)

-Grizzly Bear, gun-shy

————————————————

When Stiles glanced at the sky, sunlight fractured in his eyes. Behind the barren bleachers, evening hung low on the horizon, its last unforgiving rays striking through sparse cloud-cover in a brilliant flare. He raised a hand to shield his gaze, squinting as he leaned back against the side of his Jeep. A few feet away, Scott stood with his phone in his hand, texting a message to his mom. He turned away from the light, hunched over to block the glare while his finger swiped across the screen. When he was done, he slid the phone back in his pocket and walked around to the passenger-side door, stowing their lacrosse gear behind the seat. Stiles felt the Jeep rock as Scott climbed inside. A moment later he opened the driver’s side and joined him.

Scott was all-but silent on the drive home, foregoing their usual banter in favor of staring quietly out the window at the passing trees. Stiles didn’t try to bait him into talking. For all that the two of them had sorely needed this day of normalcy, the lingering effects of the past weeks still hung heavy in both their thoughts. It was there in the soft darkness of Scott’s eyes; in the tired set of his shoulders. It was there in the cold ache of Stiles’ bruised skin and battered bones. Mostly, it was there in the widening rift of space that seemed to grow between them as the day stretched on.

Right back to where they’d started, Scott had said. But it wasn’t true. Not even remotely.

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7 months ago on October 9th, 2012 |J |VIA -SOURCE