Ramblings from Apalapachia...

tell me this isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen

I just… That’s the Egyptian Prince from Night At The Museum and Jasper from Twilight and its a little gay and I just ugh I love it

Rami Malek and Jackson Rathbone! 

some luke skywalkers. a beautiful smile, a wonderful friend

STEREK WEEK 17′

Day 7

HALLOWEEN!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! GO SCARE SOME KIDS STEAL SOME CANDY AND BE HELLA SPOOKY!! or like just stuff ur face with chocolate like me and enjoy the good time~♥

Sterek Pizza AU by pizzalinski and paperclipmagnets

This was a comic commission from a TW auction forever ago and I finally got around to doing it! Basically Derek is a pizza delivery boy and everything is perfect rainbows. (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

“Yeah?” Stiles smiled.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and after a moment, they moved to erase the foot of space that had still been between them.

Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, and he shivered when Derek rubbed his nose against his in a gesture that felt close to an eskimo kiss, but not quite.

Stiles let out a shaky breath. “My heart is beating out of my chest.”

“I can hear it,” Derek smiled, and Stiles let out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to rest on Derek’s shoulders as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mine’s beating crazily too.”

Stiles huffed, a big smile on his face as he whispered, “can I kiss you?”

“Of course,” Derek whispered, and then Stiles bridged the space between them and kissed him softly on the lips, and the kiss was as comfortably familiar as it was shockingly surprising. Stiles knew the touch and taste and texture of Derek’s lips, but the zing in his blood always shocked him and made him inhale sharply, his already rapid heartbeat speeding up as Derek deepened the kiss.

Their bodies plastered together, arms around each other, they got lost in their kisses, in each other.

They had been together almost a year, but they hadn’t said “I love you” to each other until then, and it had been a long time coming, truly. Stiles knew he had been in love with Derek before they had even gotten together, but he had waited to confess because it had felt a little too soon to declare his everlasting love after a week of dating.

He had also been scared of Derek not returning his love, and just the thought alone of Derek saying “thank you” in response or “I don’t love you” to his declaration of love had been enough to make Stiles to hold back the words whenever he had been on the verge of saying them and take things slow with him.

Derek was so incredibly important to him that he didn’t want to mess it up, and so he had held back so they could just enjoy the experience of dating each other.

But there Derek had been, smiling softly as he tried not to dance to the music he had on as he cleaned the living room, but then failed and ended up dancing silly, singing a little off key to the song, and Stiles had just felt so enamored by his boyfriend that when Derek finished and turned off the music, Stiles had pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and walked toward Derek, who had looked surprised when he saw Stiles, and then smiled widely.

And then Stiles had just blurted it out.

And here they were, having to break apart to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs.

“I had a whole scenario in my head where I said it first,” Derek murmured, resting his forehead against Stiles’ once more, and Stiles grinned.

“You did?”

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sterek >> highschool au

For anyone who needs some fluff :)

–

 Derek takes a shaky breath before he clears his throat. That McCall kid who is a new member of the lacrosse team isn’t here today and Stiles sits alone at the front desk in class. Derek clutches at his books as Stiles swings around on his chair. Once he gets a good look at Derek his mouth falls wide open and Derek can’t help but look at it.

 “Derek Hale,” Stiles says, incredulous. He seems to have gotten over his initial shock that Derek is willingly interacting with someone and his cheeky manner has resurfaced. He spreads his arm over the desk and he parts his knees. “What did I do to get you to grace me with your presence?”

 He grits his teeth together. “You know who I am?”

 Stiles snorts. “Dude, you come to school in a limo every day, of course I know who you are, rich kid.”

 Derek looks at the floor. Of course Stiles has only noticed him because he has money. It’s really not his fault that his uncle Peter takes delight in torturing Derek by making him go to school in a fucking limo. It’s like he doesn’t understand the concept of blending in or being normal.

 “Right,” he says back, ready to turn around again. This was a bad idea.

 “Wait,” Stiles says, confused. “What did you want?”

 Derek shakes his head. “Never mind,” he mutters. He feels his face pinch together in the way his sister tells him makes him look extremely unattractive and threatening. It’s probably why he doesn’t have friends. That, and the fact everyone else’s assumption is that he is a pretentious asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else.

 People are not good at hiding their gossip. And it’s not his fault that Derek finds it desperately hard to talk to people.

 Stiles catches his arm, and Derek’s heart jolts in surprise. Something inside him softens, fuck, like it always does when it comes to Stiles, and Derek tries opening his mouth again.

 He smirks. “I’m sure whatever you’ve got to say can’t be that bad.”

 Derek tries to breathe and takes his sister’s advice. He forces himself to look Stiles in his wide, pretty eyes and the words come out in a hurry. “Can I please sit with you?”

 Stiles’ eyebrows rise off his forehead. “Me?” he squeaks. He clears his throat. “Aren’t you too good for me or some bullshit like that?”

 Derek glares at him.

 “Um,” he says.

 “Can I sit here or not?” Derek snaps, feeling his guard go right back up at Stiles’ hesitance. He nods dumbly and pushes his paper to the side. With a huff Derek sits, beginning to feel pretty pleased with himself even though neither of them speak the whole lesson.

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space labrador and golden retriever of justice ™

space labrador and golden retriever of justice ™   FTW

Also, possibly slightly silly and buzzed puppies if whatever’s in that flask Thor is passing around made it into their beers…

(of course that’s what I focus on.  You have met me, right?)

LOL YOU GUYS

::

“This is wonderful,” Derek says, dreamily. He drops his taco for a second, putting his chin in his hands so he can devote all his attention to his new friends. “Wow. You guys. My beard is just… really soft, did you know that?”

“Oh my god,” says the pale one with the cute nose. His eyes have been all shocked and wide and Bambi-like for almost half an hour, now; Derek hopes it doesn’t hurt. “Scott, what even.”

“Try to eat, Derek,” says the one with the crooked jaw and the warm voice. “You’re clearly a little… confused, right now, but maybe some food will help. You were really insistent about the food, before, don’t you remember?”

“I love tacos so much,” Derek confides, still absently petting his own beard because it's weirdly hard to stop. “Who are you guys, anyway?”

“Scott,” says the Bambi one, obviously distressed. Derek stops petting the beard and reaches out to pat the guy’s cheek, instead, hoping it will calm him. Instead, Bambi squawks in surprise and jumps in his chair.

“You’re gonna be fine, Derek,” the other guy—Scott?—assures him, after glaring at Bambi in reproach. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you!” Derek says, certain of this. “Except, who are you, though?”

“We’re friends. You know us, but right now you’re a little bit…”

“You’re super, super high,” Bambi says, and Scott throws up his hands and groans. “What? He is.”

“He’s been drugged, Stiles, we don’t know how dangerous this is! We should keep him calm.”

“I am calm,” Derek says, happily contemplating his taco before shoving two-thirds of it into his mouth.

“This is both adorable and scary,” laments Bambi / Stiles. “Which, admittedly, is Life with Derek 99 percent of the time, but still.”

“I’m not drugged, you guys,” Derek says, mouth full, because his friends look really tense. “I’m fine! I’m just drunk, I think.”

“You can’t even get drunk,” Scott points out.

“Can’t I?” Derek scrunches up his eyebrows. “Well, maybe I’m just excited, ‘cause a hot stranger bought me tacos.”

“I bought you tacos!,” Stiles yells, flushing.

“Yeah,” agrees Derek. He makes sure to dab all the sour cream off his face before he leans invitingly across the table, smiling big and bright. “So, you come here often?”

I love how we as the Sterek Fandom just silently agreed that Derek saying “You’re ridiculous” [in fanfics] is one of the fondest things he can say to Stiles. And in return it makes Stiles smile like an idiot, because he knows what Derek means to say.

Inspired this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3161588

i want derek hale to have like the cutest tattoo ever. like on his hip. and it’s a secret. and it shows how much of a marshmallow he is 

The form asks Do you have any distinguishing marks? and Derek chews the pen cap and thinks about it for a second and writes: Yes. Two tattoos. 

He figures that will be it.

—-

“You know you sign your name under a little box that says the information you have provided is truthful to the best of your knowledge,” Stiles says, flopping down next to Derek and tossing a sheaf of papers into his lap.

“What?” Derek asks. Dog the Bounty Hunter has just apprehended someone on TV and Derek is still getting used to surround sound. It continues to freak out his hearing.

“Your application,” Stiles says.

“I’m not actually a felon,” Derek says. “It asks if you were ever convicted. I wasn’t.”

“Not that part,” Stiles says. “The thing about your tattoos.”

“What about them?”

“Them? Them? What do you mean them?”

Derek sighs. “I have two tattoos. Which one?”

Stiles sputters. “You do not have two tattoos. You have the mystical werewolf back tattoo and that’s it.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You’d be the expert on my body then?”

Stiles’ face flushes dully. “Obviously not. But I have seen you half-naked and dying often enough to be pretty certain.”

“There you go,” Derek replies, turning back to the TV.

“What does that mean?” Stiles demands.

“It means you’ve only seen me half-naked. The tattoo is on the other half.”

Stiles’ eyes take on a glazed expression. “Which part of the other half? Are we talking embarrassing butt tattoo? Left cheek? Right cheek–? No, it’s not the right cheek, that harpy shredded your pants last fall.”

Derek lets out a low grumble. He still doesn’t like talking about that.

“Stiles, leave it alone.”

“I am insulted. You have known me long enough to know that I am constitutionally incapable of following that directive. I am wounded, wounded to my very–”

“It’s on my left hip,” Derek snarls. “Now drop it.”

“Oh, I’ll drop it, buddy,” Stiles mutters, subsiding. “I’ll drop it like it’s hot.”

Derek has no idea what that means, but he figures it’s nothing good.

—-

“Really, Stiles?” Derek says, sighing heavily. He stops unbuttoning his jeans and turns to his bedroom window in time to hear, “Oh, shit!” then a series of crashes and yelps.

When he leans out the window, Stiles is sitting in the bushes, rubbing his lower back and scowling.

“I’m calling the cops,” Derek says. “There’s a man outside my house. I feel unsafe.”

“You’re such a dickhead,” Stiles says. “I think I broke my spine.”

“It matches your broken brain,” Derek replies, shutting the window.

He makes his way downstairs and heads outside. Stiles is still sitting in the dirt, and he does look a little banged up.

“What are you doing!” Stiles says when he sees him. “You’re giving the neighborhood a show!”

Derek glances down at his bare torso and half-unbuttoned jeans, shrugging. “So? C'mon, you’ve got a cut on your face.“ 

He tugs Stiles to his feet and tries to usher him inside. Stiles is moaning the whole time. 

"Oh my God, this is not good for my rep,” Stiles says. “You’re leading me into your den of iniquity and the neighbors will talk. You look like you got interrupted, okay, interrupted doing carnal things.”

“Stiles, shut up,” Derek says, almost fondly, and pushes Stiles inside. Then he leans back out his front door and raises his voice. “That’s right, boy, take off your clothes.”

Sure enough, Mrs. Pritchard closes her curtains with a gasp and Derek can make out the electronic sounds of a phone being dialed.

“You suck,” Stiles says. “Emotional distress. You should tell me what your tattoo is to make me feel better.”

“Go get the bandaids,” Derek replies, shutting the door.

—-

“Derek,” says Sheriff Stilinski.

“Sir,” Derek replies. 

“Your first shift is next Monday. You can come in for your uniform fitting this Wednesday.” The Sheriff twitches a little when he says it.

Derek sighs. “Is Stiles going to try to sneak into the fitting?”

“He’s driving me crazy,” the Sheriff says all in a rush. “Put him out of his misery, why don’t you? He walks around the house talking out loud about what it could be. I don’t need those kinds of images about my new deputy.”

Derek massages his temples. “If we keep giving into him, he’s always going to be this annoying.”

The Sheriff sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Derek, believe me when I say that there’s no win for either of us here.”

Derek believes him.

—-

“You really seem to want to see me naked,” Derek says mildly, pulling off his sweaty tank top and tossing it on the bench. 

“Eep,” the locker behind him squeaks.

Derek towels his neck dry. “Should I read something into that, Stiles?”

The locker is suspiciously silent.

“I’m going to head home now,” Derek says, pulling out a clean shirt from his gym bag. “The Zumba class lets out in five minutes. You should probably be gone by then. They can break your neck with their thighs.”

—-

Stiles is pretty creative, and Derek can only take about two months of that creativity before he heaves a deeply irritated sigh, hangs up his gun holster, and pulls Stiles out of his hall closet.

“How do you keep getting in,” Derek asks no one in particular, tossing a struggling Stiles over his shoulder and trudging up the stairs.

“Your security is really lax for a newly minted deputy,” Stiles says, the words punched out of him as Derek’s shoulder digs into his gut. “I’m just–oof–alerting you to its flaws.”

“I wish someone would have alerted me to your flaws,” Derek says, pushing his bedroom door open with his foot.

“Please,” Stiles scoffs, “You love my–Derek, why are we in your bedroom?”

“Yes,” Derek says patiently.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I love your flaws.”

Stiles is wide-eyed. “It’s finally happened. I’ve crossed into a parallel dimension.”

Derek groans out a laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll make you a deal: You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

“I don’t have a tattoo,” Stiles says. “That’s totally not fair! Fine, I’ll go out and get a tattoo, you asshole, and when I get back–”

“Stiles, get in the fucking bed and get naked,” Derek growls.

Stiles mouth snaps shut. For about three blissful seconds.

“I never want to leave this dimension, holy God.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” Derek says. “I’m gonna get some stuff from the bathroom. Be in that bed and ready when I get back.”

“Nnngh,” Stiles replies. 

That’s pretty satisfying.

—-

Derek takes a deep breath and steps into the room. He gives Stiles a second to take it in.

Stiles makes a garbled noise.

“Is that… is that a Care Bear?”

“It was a dare from Laura,” Derek says, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. He’s a little insulted that he’s naked and Stiles is too busy staring at his tattoo to appreciate the rest of him.

“It’s… Derek, it’s Grumpy Bear.”

“Yeah,” Derek says.

Stiles launches himself out of the bed and wraps his arms around Derek, kissing him full on the mouth. “I love you so much,” he says.

“That’s nice,” Derek replies, his hands going to Stiles’ hips. “If you tell anyone, I’m going to rip your throat out.”

“Are you kidding?” Stiles says. “This knowledge is mine, all mine. Now get in that bed, I need to lick you in a lot of places, including that tattoo.”

“Fair enough,” Derek says, and tumbles them down to the bed. 

—-

Of course, because it’s Stiles, things are never that easy.

“Care Bear Alpha Stare!” Stiles shouts, and dissolves into honking laughter. 

Derek is in love with an idiot.