inconspicuous

By Colorado Wolf and Wildlife Center

Sterek AU: Stiles and his dad go on a little family trip for some father/son bonding on his grandfather’s old boat. Stiles was expecting a nice time away with his father before he left for his first year of college and finally catching enough sun to get a good tan. What he was not expecting was a boat neighbor who was the hottest person on earth and, thanks to Stiles’ terrible, no-good luck, also a werewolf.

several sentences sunday

i was tagged by the amazing @endwersed <3 <3

I have so many irons in the fire rn. Currently, most of my energy is going into the Sterek Reverse bang, so here's a looong snip of that!

-

Stiles shudders. Nothing from last night makes sense. And today, he feels like a stranger in a strange land, regarding everything and everyone with new eyes. A woman died gruesomely, and Stiles almost shared her fate. Something changed, there was a fundamental shift in reality, and yet no one seems to have noticed. And, for once, the ability to make people understand is beyond him.

"I cannot make you understand," Stiles mutters to himself. "I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."

A few bar stools down, a man snort-laughs and says, "Did you just... Was that Kafka? Did you just monologue a Kafka novel at your glass of whiskey?"

Stiles' head snaps up, face burning. He hadn't realised anyone was in here; it's still early in the day, and Stinky's isn't exactly a popular spot. Both of those facts make this man's presence strange and unusual.

Calling this man attractive would be an understatement. His hair is midnight-dark, his eyes a strange pale colour, almost like pond-water. He has a jawline that makes Stiles burn with envy, and not just because of the neatly styled five o'clock shadow spread across it.

Guys who look like that do not go to shitty dive bars called Stinky's. Guys who look like that don't give Stiles second glances.

The man raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Nerves make him prickly. "I'm an English major," Stiles snaps, his shoulders hunching in. "Obviously loving Kafka is a course requirement."

"Obviously," the man says, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You were quoting the book about the guy who turns into a fly, right?"

Stiles bristles. "No, you're thinking of The Fly, which was not written by Kafka. I was quoting The Metamorphosis."

The man snaps his fingers. "Right, right, I knew that. So what's The Metamorphosis about?"

"It's - it's basically about a man who turns into a cockroach."

"I see. And of course, that's very different than a book about a man who turns into a fly."

"Shut up," Stiles says, fighting back a smile. "You haven't even read The Fly, you just saw the movie. Admit it."

The man barks out a laugh. Something warm blooms in Stiles' chest. "You caught me. I haven't read either of them since high school. I'm a total philistine."

"You probably like football or something equally immature," Stiles accuses, hopefully in a flirty way, and not in a way that gets him punched by a hottie. His palms are sweaty; he wipes them on his jeans.

Still smiling, the man slides off his bar stool and takes the one next to Stiles. He doesn't have a drink in front of him, which is odd, but then Stiles gets a whiff of his cologne and that thought flies away. It smells like something from a bottle called Graphite or Midnight, and Stiles wants to roll around in it.

"I'm a baseball fan," the man admits. "Basketball, too. But you're above all that sophomoric shit, right?"

Stiles nods. "Completely. I'm a reformed jock. No more sports-ball for me."

The man's smile turns inquisitive, but Stiles doesn't elaborate. It's too personal a story to share with a stranger in a bar.

"I'm Stiles. Sorry for being bitchy, it's just - it's been a weird couple of days." He smiles sheepishly.

"You don't need to apologise," the man says simply. "I got a kick out of winding you up."

Asshole. Stiles bites his lip, feeling a little insane. He never does this: the whole bickering-as-flirting thing has never worked out, not even once. He gave up during freshman year of college, resigned to one-night stands with people who aren't interested in discussing if Pop Tarts can be considered ravioli.

"Are you new in town?" he asks, nervously fiddling with his shot glass. "I haven't seen you here before."

"You can say that," the man hedges. He offers his hand to Stiles. "I'm Derek. I've only been back in town for a couple of days."

Derek's hand is warm, super-heated. Rough hands, too. Stiles thinks about feeling those calluses on other parts of his body and shivers. Derek sees and smirks at him. He's in over his head, he can already tell. Stiles always falls hard and fast, much to the distress of the objects of his affection.

"Did you live here before? You said back in town," Stiles explains when Derek raises an eyebrow.

"Are you going to drink that?" Derek jerks his chin at the glass of whiskey. "Or do you need to quote Oscar Wilde first?"

Stiles flushes. "Shut up," he laughs, before drinking his whiskey. The burn is pleasant, almost as pleasant as Derek's arm brushing against his. "I read a lot, okay? Certain lines get stuck in my head and just spin around in there."

-

low pressure tags! @whimsicalmeerkat @thotpuppy @rosieposiepuddingnpie @lucky-bishop

@violetfairydust @croik @theragnarokd @renmackree @yogi-bogey-box

Stiles: You actually rank the pack by their appearance??

Peter: Calm down, two.

season one was a fucking masterpiece

I have the sudden burning need for a Teen Wolf AU where the primary divergence is that they play baseball instead of lacrosse. The uniforms. Everyone in baseball caps all the time. Coach is exactly the same. There’s a plot line where Peter sneaks in as an umpire or ball boy or something equally ridiculous to antagonize these teenagers he’s victimized. The pitching and catching joke potential. Do you see my vision.

i had a vision

i both love and hate myself for this

Derek! (Stiles) (Everyone: I II III)

Stiles, frantically typing into the search bar: is it gay if a werewolf holds your wrist to his lips and offers to make you part of his pack?