derek donovan

8

criminal minds is a story of… | (insp.)

Sorry about the rant

Hotch can’t leave. He just can’t. Spencer (and Penelope) have lost so many people over the last 12-ish years. Just when Spencer was getting close to Elle, she left. Gideon was the dad Spencer never had. Then he had to watch JJ leave. Then Emily. Then Maeve. Then Alex. Then Kate. Then his mom’s dementia. Then Derek. Now Hotch? Spencer is about to be in a living hell. I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to watch it. Spencer has lost so many people and don’t get me wrong, I love Thomas Gibson and want him on the show, but if Hotch leaves, the only logical thing that could happen for Matthew Gray Gubler’s character is literally nothing good. I have never wished to work with Criminal Minds more than I do right now. I’ve grown up watching this show, and it showed me just what I want to be for a career. Yeah, okay I’m done. If you don’t know what’s going on please let me know and I’ll make another post about what I know. Thanks, I love you guys. And if Thomas Gibson doesn’t come back, I’ll still be here and so will this blog.

Choices [Spencer Reid Imagine]

*Requested* can i request a spencer reid imagine where the reader is very pregnant and she finds out that spencer has been cheating on her with maeve while on the case.. happy ending please! thank you love. xoxo

Request things!!! Masterlist

Originally posted by aglassofwhiskey

Originally posted by ivedonemyreiding

Love you,” Maeve whispered, hanging up the phone.

Keep reading

Just think of how much fun an early season Teen Wolf/The Vampire Diaries crossover (Flarrow-style) might have been:

  • Scott and Elena would probably become instant best friends. They could bond over stringent moral codes and helping old ladies cross the street, just being general cinnamon rolls together
  • Derek and Stefan visiting leather jacket outlet stores and brooding together. If they do talk, it’s to complain about…
  • Damon and Peter. Peter’s probably overjoyed to finally have made a friend who isn’t a “moronic, angst-ridden teenager”, and introduces Damon to the Top Secret Underground Uncle Bad Touch  Network.
  • Bonnie, Caroline and Lydia can bond over shopping and complaining about their collective lack of utilization as anything but a plot device/love interest by their respective showrunners.
  • Allison and Jeremy can trade hunting tips, and grumble about how much dying sucks.
  • Tyler and Jackson probably just go watch sports, and then just go do whatever rich werewolves do
  • Stiles and Matt just bond over being basically the only normal humans left 

Haus of Smythes *Born to be fabulous*

Bowtie: Jake Smythe

Lotus person: Erick Kenneth

Espadas:William Knight

Estela: Aland Dupont (Miembro honorario I)

Rayo: (En memoria a todos los que se fueron)

Infinity: Jeremy Blackworth Smythe

Dragon: Rhamstock Atlesikovsky Zamolidovka Andrew Dyaggör Hristov

Estrella: Joey Van Leenden

Pluma: Derek Donovan Knight

Ojo: Toth Devon (Miembro honorario ll)

Sombrero: Jaen Joseph Smythe

@daaangerousxtothxgenrp @alanddupont

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18rBn4heThI

theblackheiress  asked:

Hiii I love your page!! I was wondering if you could update the season 5 fics? Or has nobody written all the Derek comes back fics I've been wanting to read? :(

nah you’ll probably find what you’re looking for 

Darkest Hour by gatergirl79 (1/1 | 2,990 | PG13)

In the wake of his actions, Stiles calls for comfort. ONE SHOT. [Spoilers for Season 5] Pre-Sterek.

Through A Portal, Darkly by Shadowstar (1/1 | 3,417 | PG13)

Stiles is trying to escape Donovan; he believes he can escape Donovan. All the way right into another universe.

Unsteady by MooFawn (7/? | 18,809 | R)

Need you to come back to Beacon Hills. Please. I’m begging you, come back. -SS

Stiles? What’s wrong? -DH

Everything. Everything’s wrong. God, Derek, God everything’s completely wrong. Come back. Please. -SS

-Stiles and Derek loved each other but split up when Derek left Beacon Hills. A series of late night text from Stiles’ send Derek rushing back to Beacon Hills, and the impending chaos that is about to ensue for Derek, Stiles, and the rest of the pack. -

The One Where Derek Falls in Love by lovelylounatic (1/1 | 3,001 | G)

Stiles calls Derek after the Donovan incident, Derek comes back to save the day. Stiles learns to cope and Derek falls in love. Stiles might already be there.

anonymous asked:

can you do that followup sterek/sciles/whatever fic to those crying call drabbles as a fix it for 5x09?

part 1 | part 2 you don’t need to read them to get this, but it’d be cool

fix-it fic for lies of omission. pre-sterek, with heavy sciles (as best bros) feels

also for dontbesuchasourwollf, velociraptervevo, and werewolvesandarrows

on ao3

“Scott hates me.”

The words come out in a rush, without so much preamble as a hello, like if Stiles didn’t say them the very moment Derek answered the phone, he’d never be able to.

Derek had just reminded him last week how Scott could never hate him, especially for killing someone in self-defense, and Stiles had seemed to finally accept it. It doesn’t make any sense that-

“He hates me, he hates me, he hates me, and I’m calling you like a fucking little kid and- and crying-” which he is, gasping and sobbing, his breathing shallow “-like you’re my therapist and I’m sorry but Scott hates me and I can’t, I- I can’t, I can’t, I-”

“Stiles,” Derek says, calm but firm. “I need you to calm down. Is everyone okay?”

“Okay?” Stiles demands, managing to sound incredulous even through his tears. “Scott hates me, Derek. And- and he’s the only reason I get through half this shit, and he- he fucking hates me, and-”

“Stiles, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know how he found out,” Stiles mumbles, almost to himself. “I don’t- I was so careful. He found the wrench, I don’t- he found the wrench, Derek. He- there was shit going on as usual, and- and we were gonna meet at Deaton’s, but he- he stopped me outside.” Stiles sniffles loudly, like he’s trying to forcibly stop himself from crying. It doesn’t work. “He pulled out the bloody wrench, and I don’t- I don’t know where he got it from, but it was the one I had when I killed Donovan, and he asked why I didn’t tell him. I said I was going to, and- I said I had to do it, said he was going to kill my dad, and what- what else was I supposed to do, right? But then- I don’t, I don’t fucking even know, Derek, it just happened so fast… He said we aren’t supposed to do things like that, and suddenly I was yelling at him, saying how of course he wouldn’t do it, because he’s a stupid true alpha, and- and how the rest of us have to get our hands bloody, even though I’m the o-only one who’s ever killed people, and how some of us- some of us are human.”

“Okay,” Derek says slowly, trying to process. “Is that all?”

That’s not… that bad. They’ve yelled at each other before. They can easily come back from this. They’re Scott and Stiles. That’s what they do.

Stiles huffs out a wet, bitter laugh.

“No- no, of course not, because- because I’m such a fucking idiot, Derek. He said that- that there’s a point where it’s not self-defense anymore. And I didn’t- I still don’t- don’t know what he was talking about. I mean, I fucked up, I know I did, but- but he was trying to kill me, and he died instead,” Stiles says, echoing Derek’s words from the last call. “But then-” he swallows sharply, “-God, I’m so fucking pathetic, Derek. I start fucking begging him to believe me. I asked if he did, and he said- said he wanted to and I- like a fucking five year old, I’m like- ‘Say it then. Say you believe me. Say it.’ And then Scott’s like ‘we can’t kill people we’re trying to save’ and I’m- I’m so fucking pathetic. I- I’m like ‘tell me what to do. Just tell me what I should do’ because I’m that fucking sad. I mean, I- I just fucking screamed at him, y’know? And- and now I’m begging him to forgive me? To give me advice? And Scott, he- he says I should talk to my dad, and—because Lydia and Malia are missing—that I don’t need to help look for them anymore. And then- he just- he walked away. Went inside. And it’s pouring rain and I’m- I’m standing there and- and that was a few hours ago, and I’m home now and I can’t stop thinking about it and- and I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay,” Derek says quietly. “It’s fine, Stiles. I know you’re upset, but that doesn’t make any sense. There’s no reason Scott wouldn’t understand that it was self-defense.”

“It doesn’t- that doesn’t matter!” Stiles snaps. “Who cares? He hates me. Scott hates me. My best friendhates me. I- I knew he was going to hate me, and he does and it’s even worse than I thought and- Aren’t you fucking seeing what I did? He doesn’t want to be a true alpha! He never asked for any of this! And I fucking yelled at him like it’s his fault! Do you think he wanted Deucalion coming after him? Or- or his name on a fucking deadpool? No! The last thing on the fucking planet Scott wants- or deserves, shit- is to have the weight of the fucking world on his shoulders, and I yelled at him like it’s his fault, and-”

“Stiles,” Derek says steadily. “Listen to me. People say messed up things when they fight, but that doesn’t mean he hates you, or that you’re never going to make up. How would you feel about…” he pauses, unsure how Stiles will take it, “about me talking to Scott to see what’s going on?”

“It’s not going to matter,” Stiles says, voice barely above a whisper. “He hates me. I made him hate me. This is my punishment.”

What?

“For killing Donovan, this is- this is my punishment. I knew I was going to lose Scott, and- and I was right.”

Derek wants to tell him that that’s not true, that that’s ridiculous, but- well, who would believe it from a guy like Derek? He’s had plenty of shit heaped on his plate, and felt—still feels, most of the time—like he deserves all of it. There’s not really much someone can do to convince you otherwise.

Instead, he says, “Just let me talk to Scott, Stiles. It can’t do any harm, if you don’t think you’re ever going to talk again, right? So let me figure out what’s going on. Okay?”

There’s a long pause on the other side of the line.

Finally, Stiles, voice small and defeated, says, “Okay.”

“Okay. I’m going to call him now,” Derek says, starting to pull the phone from his ear.

“Wait!” Stiles says, in a strangled whisper. “Call me back, okay? Even if he still hates me, just- I need you to call me back.”

“Okay,” Derek promises. “It’s going to be fine, Stiles. I’ll talk to you soon.”


There’s a hitching breath when Scott answers the phone, like he was sniffling and pressed the answer button a second too early.

“Hey, Derek. What’s up?”

The easy cheerfulness in Scott’s voice is very clearly forced, and Derek’s certain he’s been crying too. How did all their lives reach this point?

“You’re fighting with Stiles,” Derek says.

He doesn’t want to leave Stiles alone too long, so he gets right to the point.

“Oh.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Please continue that crying call drabble. I need it or else I'll die

a continuation of this super short sterek drabble, that takes place after Stiles kills Donovan 

also for  dontbesuchasourwollf, who said “if this doesn’t get a small sequel where Derek calls him back I’ll probably start crying,” and for velociraptervevo

Derek flops down in bed as soon as he gets home. Well maybe ‘flop’ and ‘home’ are strong words. More like, he carefully lays back on the too-hard mattress in his and Braeden’s cheap motel room.

She’s out now, doing a supply run, and Derek figures he might as well take a nap while she’s gone. He pulls out his phone first to make sure everything is sailing smoothly for her, and is met with a lockscreen that reads (1) New Voicemail: Stiles Stilinski.

That’s… odd. Odd, and horribly disconcerting. He and Stiles text fairly often, but phone calls are a rarity, and voicemails? Derek’s pretty sure this is the first one ever. Something in Beacon Hills must be really, really wrong.

So much for his nap.

He sits up, settling himself against the headboard, and hits play.

“Derek? Shit, shit, shit, I need to talk to you.”

Stiles’ voice sounds so shaky. Was he in immediate danger? But then, why call Derek?

“It’s not- don’t, like, freak out or anything,” he continues. He must be crying now, with the hitching of his voice and how wet his breaths sound, and Derek’s stomach twists. “We’re all okay, just- fuck, Derek, I need to talk to you. I don’t know who else to tell. I- I killed someone.”

The split second of relief Derek felt at the words, ‘we’re all okay,’ drains away instantly. Stiles had killed someone? He listens to the rest of the voicemail, feeling a little numb.

Stiles goes on and on, saying the guy was a monster, that he had tried to kill him first, begging Derek to answer the phone.

When it’s done, Derek listens twice more, feeling tortured by the pain in Stiles’ voice.

He checks his call log and sees the call only came in nine minutes ago. That’s good, at least.  

He clicks Stiles’ contact and brings the phone back to his ear. It doesn’t even get to ring one full time before Stiles picks up, and Derek feels terrible, imagining him sitting alone somewhere, panicking and clutching his phone while waiting for him to call.

“Derek?”

“Stiles.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes. “I- oh god. Did you-” His voice sounds small and nervous suddenly, but in a different way. Almost like he’s afraid Derek’s going to judge him. “Did you listen to the voicemail?”

“Yeah,” Derek says carefully.

He doesn’t really know what to say after that.

I’m sorry you had to do that?

Have you told anyone else?

Are you okay?

He, of all people, knows there’s really not much to say.

Stiles takes over for him, though, like if he doesn’t get it out, he never will.

“I killed him. He was just a kid, my age maybe, maybe a little older. I don’t know. But he- his dad and my dad used to work together. They were partners, and when he was out on the job, he didn’t wait for backup, and he ended up in a wheelchair. That was a long time ago, I think. After that I guess- guess his kid went down a bad path or some shit, he was in and out of the station a lot. My dad had him booked like two weeks ago, and he- he threatened to kill him. Like- like violently, Derek, sadistically. But he- he came after me instead. I was working on my Jeep outside school last night and he grabbed me. He had, um, these mouths? Like, circles full of fangs, kinda, in his neck and palms. He chased me through the library, and was going to kill me, and I- I killed him first. I killed him. I killed him, I-”

“Hey,” Derek interrupts. “Stop it. It was self-defense. In the eyes of the law, you’re allowed to defend yourself.”

“In the eyes of the law,” Stiles laughs, just as hysterical and frenzied as before. It’s a little scary to hear him like that, honestly. “The supernatural is so fucking, fucking far outside the eyes of the law, Derek. I don’t- I don’t fucking care about the law- I don’t- I killed him. He was my age, and his dad was injured, and now he’s dead, and I killed him. Derek, I killed someone. I-”

“Hey. Listen to me.” Derek tries to make his voice firm but understanding. He wishes he were better at talking; he can’t even deal with his own emotions, half the time. “This is not your fault. Okay? He tried to kill you. He ended up dying. That’s his own fault. You didn’t ask him to come after you. He did something stupid, and he died.”

“He didn’t die, Derek. I killed him. He grabbed me around the neck and we crashed through a bookshelf, and I climbed this structure and he chased me, and when I hit the top I- I pulled something out and it fell, and this pipe went right through his chest. And he was just- just looking at me, looking at me and breathing for a few seconds and then he just- he died. Because of me.”

“You didn’t go out of your way to kill him,” Derek tells him steadily. “He was chasing you, and you didn’t have any options. There’s nothing you could have done. You didn’t have a choice.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Stiles repeats, like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I didn’t have a choice. No, you’re right, I didn’t have a fucking choice. I keep fucking killing people, and I never! Have! A fucking! Choice!” Derek can hear him pounding his fist into something after every word. “Does that make it okay? I didn’t- there was no fucking choice about Allison, about Aiden. All the random fucking people in the hospital. When do I ever fucking get a choice? But I had to kill him, so now his mom and his fucking paralyzed dad get to bury their son? That’s fair? That makes it better?  No, no, they don’t even- they don’t- they don’t get to bury him. That’s not even- someone stole his fucking body. They don’t even- no closure, no-”

Keep reading