sterek i guess

  • me before i discovered the joys (and utter pain) of gay ships : straight A's, proud parents , actual friends, a social life , good night's sleep, jokes that are actually funny, a generally good life
  • me now : life? hahahaha i need to get me one of those

Pro basketball star Derek Hale of the Hollywood Knights has been hinting for months about finding someone special, and the cat is finally out of the bag. In our exclusive interview Derek spoke only the highest of praise for Stiles Stilinski, and somehow turned all topics back to him. The baseball lover seems rather star-struck for the young man. Stilinski is an up and coming photographer/ videographer who seems to be at the beginning of a successful career. The two were spotted together on a yacht in LA earlier this week - the couples first public appearance. If the pictures are anything to go by, these two look beyond happy together.

So you’re trying to tell me that

they don’t have history?

...their eyes don’t light up when they see each other?

they have no chemistry?

they don’t find comfort in one another?

they don’t lowkey like each other?

…they aren’t highkey meant to be?

they don’t make each other happy?

they never loved each other?

they don’t attract despite being opposites?

they, despite all odds, do not make a pretty good pair?

Oh. Well, I guess you just don’t see what I see.

I want more fics where Stiles is unaffected by Derek’s hotness. Like, real people interact with attractive ppl every day without making a fool of themselves or drooling or doing stupid things. Instead of Stiles being dumb, unable to talk, or immediately falling in love with Derek, I want him to look at Derek, think “wow that guy’s hot,” and then immediately go “that dude is out of my league so moving on.” So, Stiles just treats Derek like he does everyone else.

Derek is really really into Stiles. So, he does everything he can to impress Stiles. He wears tight jeans, tank tops, works out with Scott and Danny in front of him, and takes off his shirt and walks around him front of him. Except…nothing works. Derek never has trouble getting people he wants. He knows he’s hot, and so he works that. Except it’s not working on Stiles.

And Derek is really really confused. Whenever he takes off his shirt or wears his best ass-hugging jeans, Stiles notices, sure. But so does Allison, who’s basically married to Scott, and Lydia, who Derek has overheard screwing Jackson too many times to count for the past couple years. Kira blushes, and Erica - well, Erica may be engaged to Boyd, but she never misses an opportunity to put her hands all over Derek’s sweaty abs and pecs. Danny always fucks him with his eyes, and Parrish stares a little too long, his cheeks a little too pink, and Derek thinks maybe he should hook up with Parrish again just to appease his bruised ego. Because Stiles looks, but then he stops looking because apparently it doesn’t impress him.

Keep reading

reading fanfiction

what the intelligent rational side of me thinks:

what the sublime naughty side of me thinks:

  • me: I'm gonna read this 200k fanfic today..
  • brain: you are writing three tests tomorrow..
  • me: and?
  • brain: you should study!!
  • me: and?
  • brain: you don't want to fail them?
  • me:
  • brain:
  • me: fanfiction it is then
  • brain: *screams*
I Knew You Were Trouble (The epic tale of Sugar Bottoms)

for leah because she had a tough week:

Stiles notices first. And not to say that he avidly pays attention to Derek. That would be admitting that he was looking in the first place to be able to catalog a variance in his behaviour. And Stiles doesn’t do that. Not with Derek. No siree. Not at all. Because Stiles did that with Lydia. And by the transitive properties of observation that would mean. Well. Something. Something Stiles isn’t ready to delve into about Derek. Not without getting plastered with some misappropriated alcohol.

So yeah.

He notices.

Derek being odd. If Stiles had to define it, it would be squirrelly. But squirrels and Derek only go together if Stiles is making an awesome dog joke. He should bank that one for later. When and not if he finds himself in yet another inclosed space with Derek. It’s been happening too often. He should stop charting these occurrences. Someone may find them. Someone being Scott. Who has a knack for guessing Stiles’ passwords. And yeah, Batman24 may not be high level password potential. But it trumps Allison. Barely. His has a number at least.

So Derek is acting squirrelly. Stiles spotted him from across the street in the Beacon Hills shopping district exiting a PetSmart with as much nonchalance as Stiles’ managed sneaking into the police station.

It must be supernatural. Because he caught Derek walking out of Deaton’s office with his shoulders hunched inwards and his leather jacket bunched up in his arms when Stiles came around to pick up Scott from work.

So something is up. Stiles won’t say that he’s a bit miffed about being excluded. Not like him and Derek have an arrangement. But really. Going to Deaton? First? And some PetSmart voodoo practitioner?

Well maybe not the last one. But Stiles is sure all animal care specialists are in on the whole werewolves walk among us. It’s the only explanation. And Stiles would rather get ahead of this rather than Derek showing up in his room at the eleventh hour scowling for help.

Not that Stiles wants that.

At all.


He’ll say it in Spanish too.

So Stiles has taken the most legitimate course of action. Following Derek. He doesn’t want to get Scott involved yet. No sense getting Scott to worry. It’s probably nothing Stiles can’t handle. So he’s idling in his jeep at an ideal vantage point from Derek’s new loft. He only knows it’s Derek’s because Isaac talks about it with Scott and by virtue of still being Scott’s best friend, Stiles does too. They’ve never gotten an invite. Not that Stiles wants one.


He has a great vantage point for Derek’s loft. His dad is on a weekend fishing trip with Doc Pierce so Stiles can spend all night being vigilant. He brought provisions of Reese’s and Doritos.

Nothing happens in the first hour. Except seeing Erica and Boyd leave. And Isaac saunter off to Scott’s. (A fact that Stiles is fine with. Totally fine. Please stop asking about it.)

By the second hour Stiles realizes that the large Big Gulp from Seven-11 wasn’t a good idea. The urge to pee has never been more strong. And he’d rather not get arrested for public indecency.

He rubs his face in frustration with his hands before sighing. He scrambles out of the car and towards the loft. His ass half numb from sitting so long.

Derek opens the door before he gets to the metal stairs leading up to his loft.

“Stiles.” Even in the darkness, Stiles can sense the over dramatic eyebrow arching action.

“Derek,” Stiles answers. “You have a bathroom, right?”

It says a lot about their relationship that Derek just walks back into his apartment and leaves the door open.

“Second door on the right,” says Derek. “And wash your hands.”

Stiles doesn’t feel bad about crudely flipping him off on his way to the bathroom.

It only comes to him that he has no reason to be here after he’s done washing his hands. And Derek probably knows he’s been sitting in his car for two hours. And sadly the bathroom window is too small to escape from.

He’s about to face the music when he cracks open the door only to be attacked by fluff.

“Ack!” he yelps and flails around before falling to the floor on a surprisingly soft rug.

“Sugar!” admonishes Derek from above Stiles’ sprawled state.

“Sugar?” croaks out Stiles from where a tiny puff ball of fur is purring on his chest.

Derek actually smiles, plucking the kitten off Stiles’ chest. “You have to be more careful.”

And Stiles blinks for a moment but realizes Derek is not talking to him. But the cat. The cat that Derek is now beaming at with a wattage that dwarfs the flirty smile he gave that police deputy.

“I think I broke my back,” groans Stiles. But Derek is ignoring him for cupping the kitten closer to his large frame.

“You’ll live,” Derek says dryly. “Sugar B’s getting better at the sneak attacks.”

“Sugar B? Oh my Gawd,” crows Stiles. Pain fleeting at this delicious news.

“That’s her name,” grumps Derek but the force of it is lost when the kitten mewls and Derek is again lost to petting the fluff ball.

@bxdcubes tagged me in a thing and so, thus, therefore…

Rules: Use five minutes, and only five minutes, to write a drabble. No re-reading, no editing. Tag ten followers afterward.

Derek is not impressed. Derek is not impressed by the FBI Agent with the stupid name and pretty eyes. Derek is not impressed the FBI Agent arrived in a blaze of blue and red sirens and had his gun out and steady before he’d even gotten out of the car. Derek is not impressed that said FBI Agent took a shot at the guy who’d been using Derek as a human shield and managed to hit him without coming anywhere near hitting Derek.

Derek is absolutely not impressed by the way Agent Stilinski managed to call in an ambulance and secure the criminal in the time it takes for Derek to get his breath back.

He’s not impressed by the way Agent “call me Stiles” Stilinski hauls the criminal to his feet in one sinuous movement, and definitely not impressed as Stilinski manhandles the guy into the back of his car without so much as stumbling.

Derek’s not–he’s not impressed by how graceful Stilinski’s long limbs are, silhouetted against the flashing lights atop the presumably commandeered black-and-white.

Stiles approaches, face half hidden in shadow but obviously smiling, reaching out to run his hand down Derek’s arm.

It’s possible Derek’s a little impressed. A little.

Tagging: @andavs, @coffeeinallcaps, @moonwasours, @petals42, @bleep0bleep, aaand whoever else fancies doing it. I’VE GONE BLANK I’M SORRY.

Sterek Week - October 26th- Myths and Legends, Fairytales and Folklore: The Luz Mala
(Evil Light)

This myth, called in Spanish Luz Mala, is popular on the south countries of South America (Uruguay and Argentina). Its a ball of light floating a few inches from the ground. People believe is the spirit of a death person. Mostly seen in rural areas and woods.
The phenomenon have a lot of names, origins and stories in other countries, like the will-o’-the-wisp.
Never follow the Luz Mala. It can kill you.