For some reason I’m really sad right now. It’s quarter past two in the morning, I can’t sleep, and I’m thoroughly sad
Q:Derek and Stiles get stuck in an alternate universe where Stiles became a werewolf, Derek is still Alpha, their friends aren't dead and this other them just had their first baby via surrogate. They are stuck there for a week (a month?) sharing the only spare bedroom. They can't believe a world exists where they are in love like this, so they fight the idea, but being around it everyday, holding the baby, they both can't imagine not trying when/if (when!) they get home.
*I didn’t fit in wolf!Stiles because it was already getting too long, hope that’s ok <3 (but maybe you can infer he is ‘cause he’s clearly more body confident and I don’t say he isn’t.)
Stiles thinks he’s finally starting to wrap his head around all the craziness: the fact that he’s standing here face to face with himself… or almost himself. A version of himself with slightly shorter hair, dressed in a fitted black tee that he wears with the kind of casual confidence Stiles would usually ascribe to Scott or Derek, maybe, but definitely not himself.
The fact that Allison, god, Allison of all people had been the one who’d found them, dazed and stumbling through the preserve in the aftermath of the spell. And she’d just frowned at Stiles’ pained exclamation as he’d attempted to rush toward her, Derek’s hand on his arm, too tight with tension, barely holding him back. She’d whistled sharply and Isaac had appeared through the trees moments later, brows furrowing as he’d stepped up to Allison’s shoulder like he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised she wasn’t dead (her hair grown back out a bit, her bow a newer model Stiles had never seen her with), murmuring “something up, they smell… off.”
Boyd and Erica had met their little group on the porch of a Hale house that, not only hadn’t been bulldozed by the county, but looked fresh and rebuilt and whole and lived in again. (And this time Stiles had been the one to catch Derek’s arm, keeping him from… Stiles hadn’t been sure what exactly, only that Derek had been moving like he might just topple over, or rush the people wearing the faces of his dead betas, or turn and bolt away from the house-that-wasn’t-his-house).
Stiles has been through a lot of insanity in the past few years, and some kind of parallel universe where things are sort of the same but different? Hell, Stiles had been dealing with that shit long before he’d even started thinking about werewolves.
He’d been keeping up with about half a dozen co-existing Marvel Universes since he was eleven, ok? That the theory’s got merit isn’t actually all that shocking to him. He has a handle on it, no matter how weird it all is.
That is… until the door swings open and his alternate’s face lights up almost before Derek… not-Derek steps into the room.
“Took your sweet time, dude. You left me to entertain the house guests.”
Not-Derek rolls his eyes but smiles easily, and Stiles can’t help notice the way the rest of the wolves shift around him, making space for him automatically, forming a half-circle with a slight, indefinable something in their stances that seems to indicate deference.
“I was tracking a scent through the woods. Something like… ozone, magic. I couldn’t…” And then he freezes, eyes catching on Stiles’ face and taking him in, his body going rigid. The betas all seem to tense along with him, and Stiles knows right away, wonders if Derek realizes too, this version of him is still an Alpha.
Not-Stiles laughs, stepping around the edge of the room toward his Derek.
“House guests,” he intones cheerfully. “What do you think?”
The other Derek stares at Stiles a few seconds longer, before his startled eyes flick to his own.
“His hair’s different,” he says, dumbly, and not-Stiles laughs, and this right here is when the world stops making sense, because his voice goes husky and his hand drifts, almost casually, to tug at the front of not-Derek’s shirt.
“What, you like it better that way?”
His head ducks down shyly, but he looks up at his Derek through his lashes with a smug smile playing over his lips, and Stiles feels a little shiver of awareness go through him because this other him’s flirting, ok? Flirting with Derek. And he’s pulling it off the way Stiles pulls off tripping over his own feet most mornings, and not-Derek’s falling right for it, going with the pull of the hand fisting his shirt and then they’re kissing, mouths meeting in a soft, slow press that seems to stretch on forever. Stiles can’t look away until he can’t bear to look any longer, and he finds his gaze going to Derek, who’s staring down at the floor in front of him, seeming every bit as shocked, baffled, blindsided, as Stiles feels.
There’s a quiet “mmm” of satisfaction from the other Stiles that makes Derek jolt, eyes going up and back down again fast, and then Stiles hears his own voice murmuring “Scott and Kira watching CiCi?”
“With your dad,” not-Derek answers, tone a satisfied rumble that has Stiles swallowing hard because he’d done that, or… Other Him had done that, and suddenly alternate universes don’t feel like a piece of cake anymore. They feel damn confusing.
There’s a quiet laugh from the doorway, and then Isaac’s announcing: “Hey guys, I think you’re freaking out the house guests.”
Stiles’ counterpart scoffs, and Stiles is staring at Derek but his damn peripheral vision is still able to pick out the way he shifts, arm slipping around his Derek’s waist as he turns to look at them.
“Oh come on, it’s nothing they haven’t—” He cuts off fast, and when he starts up again his tone has completely changed, going low and shocked. “Wait… you guys aren’t… really? That’s just weird.”
Derek’s neck is going flushed in a way Stiles has never seen it, so he drags his gaze back to take in the other Stiles, the “wrapped around a Derek like their bodies would slot together perfectly” Stiles, and grits out “You’ve got no idea.”
this post is the only one that has 12 million notes and it changes all the time. the flubber robin williams, the rogerina, the “reblog if you dont have a tumblr” and the dean winchester gym shorts is literally all the same post and you guys are astonished that it has so many notes every time a new version of it comes around
Q:Does fucking nancy have any thoughts about the economy
Laci Green’s long-awaited video: Sam Pepper Exposed
She has decided to release the video despite receiving threats from multiple different sources.
TW: Incudes accounts of alleged rape/sexual assault committed by Sam Pepper against women as young as 13. He is 25 years old.
Spread this like wildfire
He is so sickening.alteeeer fuck …
MY BIRD IS SITTING IN THE TOP CORNER OF HER CAGE CALLING MY DOG’S NAME AND ASKING IF HE WANTS A TREAT AND IF HE WANTS TO GO TO OUTSIDE AND HE’S TOO STUPID TO REALIZE IT’S HER SO EVERYTIME SHE…
COLLECTION OF YORUBA ORISHAS
Not to diss on European mythologies but can we seriously have some fuckin’ recognition that there are religions and mythologies that are not Greek or Norse. Why the fuck did I learn about the Greeks 6 times but we never fucking talked about Africa or even really the mythologies and beliefs of native peoples?
(Pssst from what group are these deities from?)
The Yoruba of western Africa.
i don’t have many forever reblogs
but this one is
"I never had an imaginary friend, just imaginary circumstances. I was so into the Indiana Jones movies and I would constantly reenact circumstances. I broke my left arm three times, two of which were me trying to be Indiana Jones. The first time, I tied sheets together and tried to climb the side of my house after I saw Raiders of the Lost Ark. The second time, I was riding a horse and trying to gallop as fast as I could, like Indiana Jones, and got thrown from the horse. The third time I was bit older and it didn’t have anything to do with trying to be Indiana Jones" — Pedro Pascal interviewed by Sarah Paulson for Interview