You: “Matt, please it’s not worth it! I know what those people have done to you. I know why you’re doing this, but please stop. My friends aren’t the fault. Matt..” Matt: “I don’t care. I need to get my revenge. I want to get a revenge.” You: “No, you don’t. You’re way smarter than this, Matt. I can help you get over this. Please let me help you!”
Freya has had her twin brother’s back from the moment she exited the womb twelve minutes after him. The two Daehler twins have made it a point to look out for each other, sticking together when it seems like the rest of the world is against them. When Matt nearly drowned, Freya was the one dragging him back to the surface. It’s what she’s always done, keeping her brother from sinking when the darkness gets too much. But lately the darkness has been dragging Matt down more than usual.
Okay I know we’re all very against Derek and Stiles ever breaking up, but hear me out: The Philadelphia Story AU, because there’s nothing I love more than assholes who realize they actually really love being assholes to each other, and find everyone else who can’t keep up with the assholeishness very boring.
And frankly, the lack of Sterek fic based on old screwball comedies is a tragic crime against humanity. I’m filing an official complaint.
The Hales are the obscenely wealthy family of socialites, and Derek is known publicly as the trouble child in the family after his explosive divorce from Stiles Stilinski, the scrappy son of the well-liked sheriff, known to be something of a smart-mouthed asshole. Pretty much all of the time. He’s prickly, most try to avoid him.
They had a fiery romance full of snarking and barbs that cut far too deep, got married on a whim (to many raised eyebrows among the wealthy elites in town) and fought constantly until the day they divorced and parted for good. In the end, Stiles didn’t even want to settle anything through a lawyer, he just took his clothes, signed the papers with a not-so-passive aggressive flourish, and left in a huff.
In the two years since, Derek has been working hard to fix his reputation for the sake of his family, who all got dragged into his fairly public drama. He’s got a nice job at the family company, he’s engaged to a nice woman named Jennifer, he’s got a nice car instead of the Camaro Stiles convinced him to buy so they could have sex in the back seat, and his life is just nice.
And he’s happy, as long as he doesn’t think about it too deeply, because when that happens, he realizes he’s bored. But then Jennifer comes home and smiles at him, and he’s just happy and calm.
They work well together for a number of reasons; he hates putting in time at the social clubs, Jennifer loves it and she’s good at it, and she knows he hates it so she handles it for him as much as possible. She loves remodeling, he likes to build things and spend time in his woodshop, finding ways to make her grand ideas come together–they’re a fun challenge. He likes quiet nights in, she’s a book critic and has no trouble spending hours in silence as she takes notes on her latest review.
It’s infinitely more peaceful than his previous marriage, in which Stiles went to social clubs solely to mock them and take subtle digs at other members, fidgeted and made noise when Derek was trying to read until he eventually dragged him out to a bar, and complained about all the sawdust and constant renovations throughout the house and why are there no stairs today, Derek, I need to get to work.
But best of all: Jennifer is handling all of the wedding planning, dealing with his family, friends, all of the social and decorating aspects. All Derek has to do is show up and say I do.
(So, again, the exact opposite of his last wedding: eloping at the courthouse then both of them getting blackout drunk at a bar, and Stiles waking up with an untreated broken foot that needed surgery to correct.)
Alright, listen! So I was rereading 13RW (after I finished watching the show as well) and naturally, Sterek popped in my head and I legit cried a whole half an hour just thinking about it. Like, that shit would be so sad and like damn…so…I made a list of how it would go.
5. Courtney- Corey || 6. Marcus - Danny || 7. Zach -Isaac || 8. Ryan- Mason
9. Clay -Derek || 11. Jenny- Kira || 12. Bryce – Theo || 13. Mr. Porter- Mr. Argent
And like I feel like I might actually do this after I finish the story I’m currently writing for the sterek exchange. It would honestly be the coolest thing I will have ever written. Cause just imagine:
Tape 1, Side A Hey, it’s Mieczysław, Mieczysław Stilinski, but commonly known as Stiles, don’t adjust your, whatever device you’re hearing this on. It’s me, live and in stereo. No return engagements, no encore and this time absolutely no requests. Get a snack. Settle in. Because I’m about to tell you the story of my life, more specifically, why my life ended. And if you’re listening to this tape. You’re one of the reasons why. I’m not saying which tape brings you into the story. But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, you’re name will pop up. I promise
26. “According to US Weekly, we’re married.” Also on ao3!
“According to US Weekly, we’re married.”
Stiles punctuated his statement by slapping down a copy of the offending tabloid magazine on Derek’s coffee table, none too gently. The table wobbled a bit from the amount of force he used, a steaming cup of coffee nearly spilling all over the table.
Beaming up at him from the glossy front page of the magazine was a blown up picture of him and Derek on the set between shoots. It was slightly blurred around the edges thanks to being zoomed in on so very much, proving just how much of an invasion of privacy it was.
He couldn’t know for sure who had taken the photo, the article not disclosing the photographer, but Stiles had a sneaking suspicion of who it was nonetheless. He would have bet anything it was that creepy little snake Matt Daehler, the disgusting paparazzo who had made a name for himself by stalking celebrities and their families.
For the past few weeks, he had caught glimpses of someone slinking around behind the scenes, the hairs on the back of his neck rising whenever he did. Just a few days ago his suspicions that it was Daehler had been confirmed when he witnessed him lurking around one of the sets.
And now a picture of him and Derek was being circulated nationwide, various tabloids and newspapers hosting articles speculating about it. The picture was even being discussed on talk and morning shows that apparently had nothing else to talk to.
He folded his arms over his chest and raised an unamused, expectant brow at Derek who merely blinked up at him. When Derek failed to say anything, Stiles gestured emphatically down at the magazine.
In the picture, Derek was wearing one of his outfits for the movie: a dark navy blue waxed cotton jacket over a black sweater, dark jeans, black boots, black sunglasses…and a wedding ring. It was crucial to the role he was playing, the movie focusing on a single father raising his daughter while struggling with depression and PTSD.
It was sure to be a classic, full of emotional scenes highlighting the everyday challenges of life with mental illness, centering on the main character, Tyler, learning how to juggle his own issues along with his daughter’s. Rather than glorify or romanticize both Tyler’s mental illnesses and his self-care, the film explored the nitty gritty truth of depression and PTSD and suicidal thoughts.
However, while Derek’s wedding ring was necessary for the movie, the matching ring on Stiles’ hand was not.
If I Can't Have You, No One Can - Matt Daehler Imagine
Request:Hi I’m new at you blog and I was wondering if I could get a one shot of matt daehler and the whole storyline of him being obsessed with Alison but instead of Alison it’s me
Word Count: 700+
[A/N]: I didn’t do the exact storyline, but I did include a lot of the things that happened between them. Hope you enjoy! :)
“Alright,” Sheriff Stilinski sighed, “I’m gonna ask you one more time, what happened at the party?”
You stopped tapping your fingernails on the desk and leaned forward, keeping the Sheriff’s loose jacket wrapped around you. “I told you nothing happened,” you shrugged, “or at least not anything that I know of.”
“So nothing happened between you and that boy…that boy—”
You hesitated. If you let out even the slightest bit of information, would it reveal everything? Would he find out about the Kanima and its master? The hunters? The werewolves?
You knew the sheriff was uninformed of all those the things and the supernatural world in general. Stiles hadn’t bothered to tell him about, and you had a clear view as to why.
“Well,” you started, “He tried to kiss me, he…did kiss me.”
"And what happened after that?”
“I pushed him away, and made up an excuse about having to make a phone call.” You sat back against the chair.
“Was it really an excuse or did you actually have to call someone?” he questioned.
You scoffed, shaking your head, “Does it really matter?” He gave you a frustrated look. “Yes,” you nodded, “It was just an excuse.”
You bit your lip as quickly jotted down your words on a nearly empty piece of notebook paper.
"One last question,” he spoke, “Are you in anyway involved with Matt’s death?”
You slowly shook your head, and you were being completely honest on the subject. You weren’t, you didn’t even know how he died.
Sheriff Stilinski let out a heavy breath, “You’re free to go.”
You nodded as you stood, making your way out of his office. The moment you set foot in the waiting area you were greeted by your antsy best friend, Stiles, well—more harassed than greeted.
“W-what happened? What’d he say?” You gave him a brief look of annoyance. “Did you tell him anything about the supernatural world?”
You sighed, “No, Stiles, your secret’s safe.”
Stiles frowned a little bit, “Right, I’m sorry. You’re probably really tired,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Do you need a ride home?”
You shook your head, “I think I’ll just walk.”
And so you did. It was a good thirty minute walk from the station to your house and it gave you time to think.
What would’ve happened if you had told Sheriff Stilinski about Matt’s obsession with you? If you had told him about the dozens of pictures his camera held of you?
You held his forgotten camera in your hands, scrolling through picture after picture of the lacrosse team until you got to one of you. It was just a simple candid, one of you in chem, laughing with Lydia.
It was cute, so you just brushed it off. I mean, it was only one picture, right? Wrong. The next one was of you, as was the one after that and the one after that, all from your Aunt Kate’s funeral.
“Weird,” you thought to yourself, but that wasn’t even the start of it. Picture after picture of you appeared on his camera screen, some of them with you in comfort of your own home.
You jumped a bit when a knock thudded through your window. You looked over to see Matt himself.
And that wasn’t even the worst part of the whole thing. I mean, sure, being stalked and having unknown pictures taken of you is scary, but what was en worse was when you tried to confront him about them.
He was all cheesy in the beginning but got extremely defensive when you mentioned stalking.
“You think I’m the kind of guy who’s gonna say something like, ‘Well if I can’t have you, no one can’? Well—you know what—get over yourself because there’s a pretty girl walking into the room every five minutes.”
And those words were so devastatingly close to the last words you heard from the demented boy in your paralyzed state, and you remember them so vividly.
“Remember when I told you I’m not the kind of guy to say ‘Well if I can’t have you, no one can’. Well, [Y/n], that’s not completely true because If I can’t have you, no one can.”