Yet ANOTHER fic by @daisyapples got me hooked to the point of creation!!! Everyone should go read "Speak of all that's been and all that won't" by Daisyapples on ao3 if you like time loops, angst, bamf!Stiles/spark!Stiles, and Sterek <3
During the page where I drew Stiles killing Deucalion, I pictured him as mocking Stiles for "finishing what old man Argent started," something that would irk Stiles very much considering what Gerard put him through!!
(Moots/oomfs plsss don't let this flop I worked so hard on it omg)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Since the very first moment Derek figured out how to get his claws out, he started fidgeting. With time, it became a nervous habit: he would dig his claws into the dinner table, into the corridor walls, into his and Laura's toys. His father would spend hours trying to sew all the little holes his son made in his jeans and shirts.
It was a cute funny tic for a cute funny little werewolf—until it became a problem. Derek couldn’t always control his claws; it was an unconscious action, like hair-twirling or nail-biting. But it was dangerous. Talia couldn’t risk her family’s safety. Not with hunters around. It was important for a werewolf to always keep control, to have an anchor, to look human. So she intervened.
First she tried to help him gain total control over his wolf, but she soon understood that it was hard to teach control to a 6 year-old. So she changed her tactics. She knew she was being harsh on her baby, but she needed to be cautious. The instructions she gave him were simple:
Don’t use your hands when talking.
Put them in your pockets when you’re not using them.
Close your fists when you’re anxious.
Years passed, and Derek learned to rein in his wolf, to keep a fierce grip on his anchor, to hide his hands in his pockets. Still, when he feels anxious, tired, or comfortable (and there’s no one around to judge him), he plays with his claws—piercing his cushions and scratching his walls. It is as entertaining as it was when he was young. It is one of the last things that reminds him of his family, and not of the fire—a fidgeting habit that makes him feel normal, that makes him feel safe.
(credits to the owner of the picture, though I have no idea who that is)
Derek is always fidgeting with his claws. When he’s bored, he tends to carve miniature animal sculptures. He’s always done it—in tree trunks, in small pieces of wood, in doors, tables, everywhere. Anything made out of wood is good enough for Derek’s claws to carve into.
However, this habit is so natural to him now that he usually carves little figures for hours, just to completely forget about them once they’re finished. And he NEVER reacts to it, which drives Stiles absolutely crazy. How could anyone—human or not—work for hours on something just to discard it once it’s done?
Stiles has seen Derek carve things into tree branches while they wander through the woods looking for the new creature of the week, or in the old Hale house while the pack trains in the ruins.
He’s seen him putting thought and effort into the tiny bear features, into the eagle’s wings, into the roots of tiny carved trees. And still, once they’re done, they’re dropped.
It was scandalous, throwing those mini sculptures around. And the worst part was that no one seemed to notice. No one except Stiles. So he took matters into his own hands. He saved those little wooden wolves, flowers, moons, and triskelions.
It was his job now: to steal glances at Derek’s work and rescue it once it was dumped.
After a few weeks, Stiles’ drawer was full of wood art. He had to admit at some point that he loved the little statues. He loved the litte pine wolf howling. He loved the sleeping oak fox. He adored the maple micro moon phases. And they deserved a better place than a dirty drawer. So he got a shelf (which he installed himself) and displayed his entire woodcraft collection.
Maybe he should have realized that a shelf was not the best way to hide his thieving behavior—especially not from a werewolf with privacy issues. It was only a matter of time before Derek ventured into his room one night and found his own creations arranged like a shrine.
Yeah, not one of his brightest moments.
And if, after that, Derek’s sculptures started to randomly appear in Stiles’ bedroom or in easy-to-access places (instead of on the preserve ground, covered in mud and dead leaves), then… well, that was between Stiles, his wood sculptures, and a certain Sourwolf who liked to fidget with his claws.
When everything was set and done the pack left for college. It was good, really, finding themselves far from the tragedy and madness that Beacon Hills brought into their teen years. It was healthy, really, living and not just surviving. Then why did Stils feel so...empty.
Scott was happy helping little pups and kittens, Lyds was in the process of dominating the NASA, even Isaac and Ally where enjoying the big life in Paris. No matter the distance, it seemed as if the whole pack had moved forward. And still, Stiles felt like falling behind.
It wasn´t the nightmares, no, or at least not only them, but also the constant sensation of not fitting anywhere. His body felt too scarred, his shoulders too heavy, his mind too mature.
So when one night while preparing his midterms Derek called asking for his help, well, Stiles may or may not have fallen from his chair in his hurry to help. to be useful. to be needed. They met some days later, Derek was trying to hunt down a strange creature that had been attacking werewolf children and teenagers from multiple packs.
It took some convencing and -No Derek, I won´t fall behind my classes- but by the end of the week he was staying in a cabin in the middle of no where surrounded by ancient books and planning how to defeat this threat.
They did it, of course, with minimal wounds and little to no trauma. In their way back to the campus Derek confessed how much he had missed the thrill of hunting with his pack, and how much he had missed Stiles. That night Stiles admitted having issues adapting to the college lifestyle and how wrong it felt to live a conventional life knowing there´s so much more out there. And yeah, he also confessed missing Derek.
Stiles went back to college, but things didn´t remain the same. From time to time he would receive calls from Derek asking about different creatures, mithology and magical items. Being part of something bigger again made him feel alive. No long after, his life rutine changed completely, he didn´t drop out (his dad would kill him), but now every other weekend Derek and him would travel from town to town helping with supernatural threats.
Stiles reveled in his new life, magic surrounding his days and a werewolf guarding his nights. Once while walking under the moonlight Derek chuckled -I guess the kanima guy wasn´t so wrong after all-
Stiles, still high on adrenaline from using his spark to cast a small protection spell was not in his best moment to follow Derek´s path of thinking -what?-
Derek huffed- We make a good pair- A soft smile appeared on his lips, the moon reflecting on his eyes.
-oh, yes- Stiles felt his cheeks warm and his throat tighten- I guess we do
Mates can bite each other's nape to calm the other down. It is a way to show submission and trust. Among mates this caring gesture enforces the bond and connects their souls.
It can be playful, soft or even sexual.
One night while fighting a new threat the pack gathers in the loft. Lydia and Stiles are sure that they are about to fall in a trap. Derek and the rest of werewolves consider that it's time to act not to plan.
After arguing for half an hour Derek stomps to the door, Stiles in a desperate attempt to stop him–and remembering something he read about wolves biting each other's nape to calm down– goes for it and bites Derek's nape.
---------------------------------------
Or Stiles miss translated a werewolves ancient book term "mates" for "pack mates" and Derek found out Stiles– the human he's been head over heels for– is his mate.
“That is NOT what we just said, what part is so hard for your furry heads to understand” Stiles was on edge, the pack had been arguing for overan hour wether they should stick to the plan or make a surprise attack. Fuckig hunters and the witches they were helping.
“Stiles’s right” Lydia, God bless her, was the only other voice of reason in the loft “ We can’t be certain about the hunters’ location. As long as we know it could be a trap. Why would they lower their guard out of nowhere? It feels to easy”
“Because it IS easy Lydia, not everything has to be complex. This hunters are probably rockies”
“And we have been waiting ages fo an opportunity like this. For how long are we going to let them wander around in our territory like nothing?” Boyd just nodded to Erica and Cora´s statement. Peter, who had been (thankfully) silent during most of the chaos, decided that the best curse of action was to ignore the pack, thoug his opinion was waterclear when he started to sharpen his claws.
“We have to take advantage of the situation before it is too late”
“Oh no Sourwolf, we’ll be balls deep into a trap and then it WILL be too late” Derek didn’t even spare a glance at Stiles, a growing growl taking the place of an answer. God why were werewolves so… intense. Stiles looked at someone else before throwing something at Derek.
“But we need to-”
“Ok, enough” Derek cut Scott’s voice and stomped for the door “We are losing time” The pack preparing to follow him despite Stiles and Lydia best tries.
“Waitwhat? NO, you are not going nowhere Derek. They literally hanged a neon sign saying come and get us, free kisses for every wolf and- DEREK STOP”
Stiles was practically hanging from Derek´s sleeve, trying to pull him back to his previous place near the windows where he was safe and sound. Sadly, trying to stop the werewolf felt like trying to stop a truck. In other words, impossible.
It was wrong, so so wrong. It was clearly a trap, the pack was walking to their doom and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. He felt frustrated, his whole body still clinging to Derek and ver much failling. Lydia was shouting about stupid werwolves and threatenning to kill everyone if they came back alive. The betas’ complaints a choir of mumbles.
He had to stop them, to so something, to protect them from their ow stupidity, God he wanted to break-throw-bite something-
oh, that could work. What did the old book say about packmates calming each other? Maybe he’ll have to thank Deaton after all. Old books and gremoirs about werewolves packs, their traditions and caracteristics. It may have been a tedious process to translate each of them, but now? Totally worth it.
He goes for it.
Many things happen in seconds.
One moment Derek was opening the loft´s door with a monkey-Stiles on his back, next moment Stiles was sinking his teeth in Derek’s neck, and then, as a puppet whose strings were cut, Derek fell. Stiles teeth still on his nape, his arms wrapping tightly against the wolf to keep him up.
The room went silent. Cora and Peter gasping in unison while taking some steps back. Erica and Scott hurrying to help and freezing when Stiles growled at them, bare teeth shining on Derek’s nape and holding him tighter.
“Stiles” Peter’s soft voice resonated in the room “Stiles is ok, no one wants to take Derek from you” Stiles spared him an ugly look and started to walk backwards towards the bed. His eyes acertive to anyone who moved closer.
When he reached the bed he carefully lied Derek and crawled next to him, his senses slowly coming back to him.
¨Oh my God, what was that?¨ His voice coming out high pitched as the smell of his anxiety filled the loft. “Shitshitshit WHY ISNT DEREK WAKING UP” His bresathing was frantic and herratic, he didn’t want to hurt Derek, he just wanted to protect him, to calm him, to,to,to
“STILES”
His eyes finally focused, his hands had been holding Derek’s face softly, oh so softly, his thumbs caring for his cheekbones under two beautiful blurred emerald eyes. Derek smelled delicious under him, a low purr coming from his chest. His senses were coming back to him, and Stiles could feel how the pack had slowly gathered around them. He felt his cheeks warm, his face probably a tomato. What in the name of Gandalf was going on.
“Stiles, I know you are overwhelmed but Derek is ok. You don’t have to worry ok? This is normal, thouh I didn’t know that you… knew” Peter’s face did something funny. He knew what? What was Peter talking about? Aybe about the werewolves book knowledge?
He cleared his throat, “Anyway, you surely calmed him down”
“I just… wanted to stop him the book said-
“Well you clearly went for it” Despite her blank face, Cora’s tone was mocking and warm. Which, strange, the whole situation was strange.
“Am I the only one who doesn’t understand what’s going on?” Scott asked looking at everyone in the loft “Why did Stiles bite Derek and why did Derek black out?” A series of mumbled agreements echoed in the loft, Derek turning around to hide his face on Stiles’ neck.
However before anyone could explaine anything ( probably Peter) or ask more questions ( the whole pack- stiles included) an explosion shook the loft. The windows clinged and the light flickered. In less than two seconds the wolves were on beta shift and looking for a threat.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT”
“An explosion, it sounded near by”
“We need to check it, it could be-
“The hunters” Lydia sounded cold, her mind already organizing a new plan. Her expression of I told you so clear while she and Allison grabbed their guns.
“I’ll stay with Derek” everyone looked at him, a proud smile on Cora’s lips and a smirk on Erica’s “You know” his face bright red and his heart hammering like crazy “j-just in case” God, why did he feel so nervous.
Scott noded at him while everyone left “ I’ll call you if we need anything bro” And with a last smile he closed the door, leaving Stiles and Derek hugging in the bed.
The first time Stiles woke up he hadn’t noticed he felt asleep. He had never felt so comfortable, so relaxed. Derek was still hugging him, his face hidden in stiles’ neck while his nose sniffed softly at his collarbone. At some moment their legs had tangled and Stiles fingers had started to play with Derek’s hair. It felt safe.
Stiles sighed, no matter how hard he tried, his relationship with Derek was still...complex. And yeah sometimes he was a piece of shit but the werewolf was no different, maybe that’s why they usually crashed. Derek was so… Derek. Always prepotent, always judging with those stupid eyebrows ( which Stiles thumb started to softly care) always shouting and then ignoring at Stiles. Always acting like a dick, acting as if he knew better, which yeah maybe he did, but, still, not the point. He enjoyed annoying Stiles, pressing all his buttons until Stiles almost exploded just to roll his eyes, turn around and walk away.
It drove Stiles crazy… in the best way possible.
He turned to look at the celing, his arms around Derek.
Stiles loved the competition, he lived for the bickering, the teasing. And he loved to tease Derek back. Playing pracks on him, singing outloud when he was too bussy reading, appearing out of nowhere to declare a Marvel marathon, laughing athis beautiful bunny teeth. Stiles loved it all, even the bad arguments . The saving-each-other-lives situations. The patching after the battles. The pack nights when Derek spent hours preparing a blancket fort and buying snacks for everyone. He loved it. He loved it all. He loved everything. He loved Derek.
And now he felt like a massive asshole. Not only did he bite Derek in the neck (which, very sensitive, specially for a werewolf), but know Derek was unconscious. But the major reason why he felt like an ass is that he was not sorry. He needed to stop Derek from risking his life (again) and he did. In the end, it worked and he was thakful for that.
Next to him Derek huffed and moved to lie over Stiles, one of his hands moving under Stiles’ shirt, clawed fingers rubbing his stomach. A slick tongue poking out to tap at his neck.
Stiles shivered, his breathing coming out in little puffs while Derek continued to scent mark him. Before he knew he felt asleep, the sense of safe,home,care lluling him. His packmate scent surrounding him.
Derek woke up to the sound of birds near the windows and the smell of popcorn from the couch. He sat up and stretched why were his muscles so sore. His claws were out and for some reason they wouldn’t go back to normal nails. His head felt numb, everything was dizzy. Derek hid his face on his hands and groaned what the heck is going on and why despite feling like a shit he felt...happy?
“You finally up” Cora said from the couch between mouth fulls of popcorn “You really surprised us yesterday. Peter and I, we ddn’t know about you two” She wouldn’t look at him, her eyes focused on the news.
Derek sighed and moved to get up, his legs felt weak. “I don’t know what yuo’re talking about” He went to the kitchen a delicious scent following him everywhere “and I don’t know what happened today”
He heard Cora huff “Well, I can’t blame you. Being bitten by your mate for the first time, I guess it can be-” Derek choked on his water MATE? WHAT
He turned around ready to interrogate Cora when the whole night came back to his mind.
The pack arguing, Stiles tying to stop him, Stiles biting his nape and then growling at anyone who got near. Derek’s heart started to beat faster and faster, blood running up to his cheeks and ears, and south to his… and south. He remembered Stiles pressing against him, marking him, scenting him, protecting him. And Derek had melted between Stiles arms, under the pressure of his mate body. His mate. Stiles was his mate. Holy mothermoon how.
He felt overwhelmed, any sound, smell, touch felt like too much. He had a Mate, a Mate, AND IT’S STILES. Derek started to laugh and shake, a horrible thing that began breathy and turned maniac, his clawded fingers digging in his scalp till the smell of blood filled the kitchen.
“Shhhh, it’s alright Der” Cora was there with him hugging him while Derek’s face writhed full of sobs and tears. “I know, it’s ok” she patted his head and moved her legs to sit more comfortably against the dishwasher. When did he get to th floor?
“Cora, I-I have.. I have a-a” His voice trembled and broke under his sobs “How? How -d-did I..” His scent was a mixture of happiness with love and fear. He had a Mate and it was Stiles. Annoying loud perfect Stiles. How is that even possible?
“Well, the only requirement to have a Mate is that both your wolf and your human side fall for the same person. Recognice them as strong and loyal to protect the pack and your offspring, so… it was kind of inevitable”
Derek calmed down to Cora’s words, yes it made sense but still “Yeah but he-e has t-to… too” His throat felt dry. He has to feel the same way his vocal chords couldn’t work the courage to say the words.
Cora smiled while standing up “Congratulations… I guess” she shrugged and offered her hand to help him stand up. Then she punched him in the arm and left to the couch.
Derek took a deep breath and smiled when he sensed Stiles on him. God, after everything, what’s the probability. He started to laugh again, this time bright and full of joy.
Derek spent the next three hours trying to calm himself down while Cora explained what had happened the night before. It turned out that Lydia and Stiles- Der could you stop giggling every time I mention your Mate?- were right, it had been a trap. The place where they had tought the hunters were hiding was an abandon garaje full of explosives. When they arrived everything had already detonated. Among the rubble they found that almost every door structure and window had mountain ash paint on it. It had been thanks to Stiles -Derek come on! Are you for real?- and Lydia’s argument and then Stiles-Ok ok I´ll stop...sorry- and Derek shenanigans that the explosion occured with no one inside.
His mate was really smart, wasn’t him? However, Derek wasn’t sure of what to do now. Should him go and talk to Stiles? Interrogate him about how did he know about nape bites? Take him out? No.
And then everything was clear, he’ll eventually talk to Stiles about how he discovered the mating passive claiming, but right now? He had to prepare his courting. The best courting any wolf could give. He´ll have to sweep Stiles off his feet. Attack from so many sides that he won’t have time to react.
Derek jumped to his bed and hid his face in his pillow, the one he and Stiles shared last night. Goddess, he couldn’t wait to court Stiles, to have him, to claim him. A wave of lust filled him, he wanted to have him there, in his bed, in his blanckets. His lingering scent could never be enough.
Not when he appeared out of nowhere to have a movie night, not when he fell asleep on the couch, not when Derek called him to help him organize the groceries and prepare pack dinner every sunday.
He fell for Stiles, a long time ago, and since then, every time they saw each other has been a constant torture for Derek. Always trying to think of a way ( a comment, a statement, an argument, an insult) that could drive Stiles crazy and make him interact with him. It was funny (and hot), and his favourite hobby.
Dear moon, he had a mate, Stiles was his mate, Stiles wanted him. Or at least a part of Stiles wanted him, but it was ok. He’ll woo Stiles, he’ll court him and love him and scent him and mark him and devour him and make him laugh and laugh and laugh.
Derek grabbed his pillow with both hands and used it to hide his face and silence his screams while rocking from on side to the other, bathing in Stiles scent.
At some point Cora left and Derek stood alone with his toughts and the mark of Stiles teeth on his nape. A plan already forming on his head.
He chuckled while admiring a beautiful picture of Stiles (that he may or may not have taken during a Stiles-Derek movie marathon when he fell asleep and drooled on the cushions) “My Stiles”
When the sun set, Derek went full shift and ran into the woods, joy and happiness marking his path. That night a wolf howled to the moon to signal the beginning of his courting, that night a wolf sang for his mate for the first time, that night a human howled back.
(And the sheriff shouted at Stiles for waking him up at three in the morning)
Stiles and Derek and their playful friendship where they constantly try to annoy the hell out of each other but actually it’s very fun and flirty. Stiles smacking Derek on the butt and running away. Derek excusing himself from the conversation he was in to follow after him slowly, looking real scary walking up the stairs, maybe flashing his eyes a little for show, cornering Stiles who is laughing/begging for mercy. Derek smirking before throwing him over his shoulder like he weighs nothing and then carries him to some bedroom, drops him on the bed and just starts tickling him until he cries😌
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Omg but imagine Hale Auto attracts all the stay at home moms in Beacon Hills, because who doesn’t want to see hot mechanic Derek Hale working on their minivans or whatever.
And they’re so flirty and horny, oh my god. Derek tries to be friendly and all but jesus christ. He calls Stiles like “you have to come and save me. There’s like five of them now. They brought camping chairs, Stiles. Just to watch.”
Stiles shows up in like 10 minutes, hero that he is, and somehow manages to scare them off by just being shamelessly touchy grabby and possessive, just making it crystal clear that Derek is his, thank you very much.
And then they have lunch together in Derek’s little office and Stiles bends him over the desk and fucks him really hard.
when people are like “he’s not even attractive you could find a guy that looks like him at any gas station” i’m like….. well you see there’s beauty everywhere actually
Ok, I’m watching Teen Wolf for the first time properly. (Before this I’d only ever watched s1) and I’m currently watching the end of s2 and I can’t understand Allison at all.
I thought her character was somewhat sympathetic in s1, I thought she was a bit pick-me but generally okay, but how easily she was swayed by Kate drove me insane. Then again, she had a bond with Kate, so at least there was somewhat of a foundation of a relationship there that could be used to manipulate her. S2 threw any sympathy right out the door.
I think my biggest issue with her is how there’s absolutely no consequences for what she did to Erica and Boyd. She not only attacked them, but willing handed them over to be tortured, knowing full well that’s what was happening. They had nothing to do with her mother’s death, and even if they did, they were teenagers. She was happy to kill kids the same age as her without blinking. That’s not manipulation.
Yes, she was manipulated. Both by Kate and Gerard. But manipulation only goes so far, and manipulation can’t make a person completely abandon their moral code. Not the manipulation Allison was subjected to anyway.
And again, Allison has never shown any remorse for her actions. Not what she did in s1, and definitely not in s2. Not even what she did to Issac.
Or, something I haven’t seen anyone mention.
Jackson.
Now, Jackson was a tool. He was a dick and self-important and prickly as all shit, but Allison was shown to have a connection with him. They talked, they flirted and they were fond of eachother. There was enough of a relationship between them that if Jackson being another person wouldn’t give her pause, then that previous relationship should’ve given her pause at the idea of just killing him. Lydia and Scott are the only two that still treat Jackson as a person, though despite what he says I doubt Stiles was really willing to actually kill him.
I think it just shows that Allison has no regard for human life, unless it’s of value to her, which is Scott, for the most part.
Also, when it comes to her Mum, Scott had previously gone to her about concerns regarding her mum. Her mum was willing and ready to kill a sixteen year old, and I hated that the show tried to then show her killing herself as something sympathetic. She was a bitch, and yet Allison didn’t even spend five seconds to work out why Derek would attack when they’ve mostly been leaving eachother alone. Even finding out the only reason Derek did anything was to save Scott’s life, she still sees herself as superior.
As if Kate didn’t decimate his entire family.
Scott kinda annoyed me here too. Mainly in his inability to hold Allison accountable when he’ll do it to anybody else, like Stiles and Derek. Even if he wasn’t angry at Allison on his behalf, he should’ve argued for Derek. Derek didn’t have to go in and save him, but he did, and that deserves a bit of gratefulness, which Scott has never shown.
For me, Allison is all too willing to kill and torture other people her own age and younger the second she can justify it to some extent.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Peter: I may be a "psychopath", as you like to call me, but I will punch a nazi and I have killed a pedophile.
Derek: Who was that?
Peter: Kate Argent.
proud victim of the tumblr accent. it's fading out of public consciousness as the tik tok accent takes precedence; a linguistic evolution that makes the tumblr accent 85% funnier to unsuspecting civilians. it's like releasing a disease on a non-inoculated population. coughing baby versus hydrogen bomb.
once my therapist said I used very uncommon and creative phrases and adjectives and i just did not have the heart to tell that Old Lady From A Foreign Small Town that I was translating tumblr speech into our language. so I was like yeah... must be from the books I read...
like girl we have an army of scholars over at tumblr.com crafting our language it's not just little old me I swear
I once called a colleague's Borzoi a beautiful Gentle Alien, assuming the term had long since become commonplace outside of Tumblr, and discovered when he burst into delighted laughter at the term that it Had Not. I had to explain to him that I'm not a comedy genius, just repeating a niche meme.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
