it might only be 25th November BUT that doesn’t mean i can’t draw christmas art xD!!! haha so here you go! some happy sterek family christmas fanarts ;U;!

(i still need to figure it out how i’ll put this on a mug and all of that so i can post it on Redbubble as well xD! soon! i promise)

Stiles hears whispers about the hot grad assistant in his criminal psych class so he grabs a seat near the front and waits for the said GA to come into the classroom.

He isn’t expecting Derek Hale to walk in wearing a soft blue sweater, dark jeans, and GLASSES.

He really isn’t expecting Derek to smile at the class and start passing out the syllabus.

He’s down right shocked when Derek gets to him and stops what he’s doing to stare openly at him.


And Stiles, being the little shit he is gives Derek a cocky smile and a wink as he says, “Long time no see, should I call you professor?”

Derek blinks and looks around the room to see everyone gaping at them. “I’m Derek Hale and this is intro to criminal psychology, Dr. Parker will be in shortly, she was running late.”

The semester ends up consisting mostly of Stiles flirting with Derek and busting his ass in the class to impress him.

Except Derek isn’t taking the bait because he’s trying to be professional. But as soon as he finishes grading the last final for the class he shows up outside of Stiles dorm and kissed the shit of him.

“About time,” Stiles says when they finally break apart, “Want to come in? We’ve got some making up to do.”

Derek just nods and follows Stiles inside the room where they spend the night making out, watching movies, and catching up about the last few years.

Okay but, why do we always think Nurseys poetry is nice and sweet and lovely and full of metaphors of beauty and grace, because my boy Derek Nurse probably uses poetry to RAGE. Listen, Nursey is a black Islamic (at least that’s what I head canon him as) man who probably doesn’t want to come off as violent because of those stupid stereotypes. So when he gets into poetry, he would definitely use it to express every negative emotion he ever had.

I imagine him writing things like “1-800-White Man Privilege Hotline” by Denice Frohman. I imagine him writing things like “Wolves” by Joseph Capehart. I imagine him writing things like “21” by Patrick Roche.

I imagine him rarely not writing words of spite and bitterness because he can’t express that without being called horrible names. I imagine him spitting out words of frustration. I imagine him spitting out how angry he is that Dex thinks that just because he’s rich means he hasn’t faced challenges. I imagine him shouting words of rage and using his cunning to show the emotions he has to lock up. I imagine the first time Dex hears a poem, he’s awestruck because he had no clue that Nursey could write with so much fire.

I imagine him spitting out rage, and fire, and words of destruction.