#hale-talks

[halestrom]

I think my favorite thing about hangster fic is how so many people, myself included, often just have them down bad for each other in any au where they’re not both flying. Zero to sixty implies a situation where either of them is chill enough to ever be at zero. No. No these two are 60-120.

[sototallynormaliswear]

[patolemus]

Obsessed with the idea that Derek loves hearing Stiles talk, that he could listen to him talk for hours, that he uses the sound of his voice to ground himself and be at peace, that it's his favorite sound in the world. That when someone tells Stiles to shut up he'll growl right in their face and tell them to apologize or get lost (even the pack, they don't get a pass when it comes to Stiles).

I especially can't stop thinking about how, at some point, they'll be alone spending time together, and Stiles will be talking and Derek will be listening, until Stiles shuts himself up because he's so used to people getting annoyed when he talks, and he doesn't want to annoy Derek, but Derek just opens his eyes from where he'd been resting his head on Stiles' lap and asks him why he stopped, he obviously was very excited about the new Iron Man movie, come on, keep going.

And anyways yeah I think they're perfect for each other.

[ovenproofowl]

obsessed that devon could not have made this weirder for mark s if she'd tried. after spending weeks conspiring with his fellow innies to try and find his outie's wife, watching one of his co-workers get murdered right in front of him for daring to defy lumon, he wakes up in a heavily lumon coded cabin in the middle of nowhere with the sister he's met all of once but chose to trust implicitly. that sister then proceeds to treat him like a lost lamb being led to the slaughter, guiding him without explanation through this low lit empty cult cabin with gentle phrases like 'she just wants to talk'. then, when he finally gets upstairs, his crazy old boss who has been masquerading as his outie's neighbour, stalking him for god knows how long, is stood there waiting for him, literally enshrouded by hellfire.

I dunno, I feel like maybe that could've been handled better.

[cedricullens]

Stiles: "Hey, Big Bad, did you know you look extra grumpy today?"

Derek: (smirks) "And did you know you talk too much?"

Isaac: "If I said that, he’d throw me through a wall."

Scott: "Yeah, what gives?"

Derek: "Maybe you should try being less annoying."

Stiles: "Oh my God, that was almost a compliment."

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Love me an au where stiles doesn’t know that Derek is a werewolf and is always talking about how much he likes him where Derek and co can hear.

Stiles is like “look at him Scotty, he has shoulders that are built to moan into, how could I not want to date him”

And Derek is fucking dying off the to side, face red as hell. His sister are making fun of him, Erica, Boyd and Isaac are making fun of him, even the sheriff is making fun of him. All Derek is doing is thinking about is upping his work out routine

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Monster

Was playing with the idea of all the bitten Were's worrying about shifting and being seen as a monster. The feeling never lasts long because they have a full support system (including born wolves) who reaffirm they aren't monsters VS Stiles whose own mother called him a monster in a flashback and believing himself to be the thing that killed her... Like? Am I alone in this? Stiles becomes the odd ball out. The human within the pack. The exception... Treated differently, looked at differently and he hides behind his clown bravado because being laughed at is better than being feared. Rather be a clown than a nightmare...? IDK, kinda want to write a whole 120,000k fic on it but here's this for now.

--------

“Who the fuck pissed off the Djinn?” It's the first question Stiles asks at the pack briefing. 

Two weeks. It had been two weeks and the demon had already made its way through the ranks. No one knew where it came from, what it wanted or why it was targeting both packs.

It needed to touch you. That was the main thing. It would take different shapes, disguise itself or even appear out of thin fucking air and once it was close enough it laid it’s hand on an exposed piece of skin and reality would bend. 

Not that that was a rarity in Beacon Hills. Really. Stiles could have forgiven the thing if that was all it did. Change things a bit, cause a few hallucinations, feed off pain or fear and then zap out. Sure. He’d seen worse. He’d been worse. 

The Djinn didn’t want to kill. Just feed. The problem however, the real problem was that this sick bastard had learned one very important detail about the packs. About these war hardened supernatural teens and young adults that suffered more from PTSD than they ever would from acne. Memories usually hurt worse than hallucinations. 

The images the Djinn created weren’t new. They were old, recycled ones that haunted not only the person touched but anyone near them. Yeah, the asshole could show your worst memory to the town square like it was Shakespeare in the fucking Park and feed off anyone who witnessed it. 

It went after Isaac first. Stiles remembers being frozen in place. Watching Isaac—Now Isaac looking over himself, four years younger and pressed up against his kitchen wall. Shards of glass and broken plates scattered around him, pieces in his hair and shirt and cutting down his face. The wispy, faded image of Mr Lahey standing over him, screaming. Yelling. Threatening to lock his son down into the freezer once again. 

It had shocked both the packs. Watching that horrible night, watching Isaac bent and tired and broken. His Isaac—Now Isaac had let out a strangled cry and that had been enough to get Stiles moving, grabbing at the beta and yanking him away from the entity. The images had disappeared along with the Djinn the moment the touch was broken. 

Since then it had been a scramble and panicked race to both trap the creature and try to evade it. The attempts had been less than successful. The Djinn worked its way through the members, one by one. First to Scott who had to relive the moment of Allison’s death and then to Lydia who experienced the night of Peter’s resurrection. Boyd went through the disappearance of his sister and Liam the moment of his first turn. Malia watched the car crash and Ethan saw his brother’s passing yet again. 

There's only two left now. Derek had tried to keep himself under the radar by dodging new places and people like the plague whereas Stiles had taken a different approach. The best approach as luck would have it. Stiles simply didn’t get caught. 

Stiles-Fox-Stilinski, the human beta with no supernatural abilities had been the next targeted victim. And he relished it. Excelled in it. It wasn’t just that he was faster, but smarter. Able to guess the Djinn’s next move, knowing when the demon had used up too much energy to be able to materialize. Trusting on gut instincts to tell him which people and places to stay away from only to be proven right again and again.

It was almost laughable how easily Stiles had been able to evade it. No one said the words but he guessed it was a residual reflex from the Nogitsune. Which, hey. Suited him fine. Out of all the shit he lost at least he had gained something helpful. And it was helpful, extremely helpful. Until this moment. 

The moment where the Djinn got so tired of trying to latch itself to the fox it made the sudden and immediate turn away from the trap Stiles was leading it into and zeroed in on Derek. 

Stiles skids to a stop, turning to watch the Djinn racing towards the alpha, arm outstretched and eyes black. And Stiles knows. Knows that once he did touch Derek the flames would be burning all around them. The screams and cries of all 8 members of the Hale Family rising in the air with the smell of ash and death. 

“No…” He hears himself whisper. The thought of it sends a panicked jolt through his body. For Derek to have to see that... to have to relieve that? And then he’s sprinting forward, the spark bursting inside him, giving him the speed he needs. He yells as he slams himself into Derek’s side, gasping as the force pulses them away from one another and nearly sends him to his knees. He feels fingers wrap painfully around his wrist before he can hit the ground and his heart sinks when a grayish hand pulls him back up. 

“Stiles!” He shuts his eyes, shaking his head furiously as he tries to back away from the voice… the image of his mother. “Don't!” 

He can't help it. He knows he shouldn’t look. Shouldn’t let it feed. Shouldn’t give it any more power. They had been so close to catching it, if he had only been able to— “Stiles. Stiles don’t!” 

He opens his eyes and there's a nine year old him again, standing on the hospital roof as his mother paces along the ledge. Her eyes filled with hate and tears and pain as she levels on him. Adult him. “Don’t get near me! Don’t touch me!” 

Stiles is aware of the other members. Of the pack watching in confusion. They had all had their trauma... of monsters and anger and loss. They had expected his to be the Nogitsune. He knew they had. And there's confusion and doubt on their faces as they watch Claudia now...

No one had known this part of his life. Not even Scott had seen or heard the extent of it, and Stiles shakes his head again as the dread and humiliation and fear grips him. 

It's a second, a blink and Claudia’s ghostly face surges towards him, so close now he could reach out and kiss her cheek if he could make himself move. “You disgusting, filthy little animal! Get away from me! I’m not going to let you kill me!” 

“I… I don’t want to kill you.” It's the same thing his younger self had said then. He repeats it now, hoping something has changed. Hoping anything has changed. It hasn't...

“Liar! You're a liar. Look at you! You are killing me! You’re murdering me! I wish I had never had you!” He can feel the tears falling down his face. Why was no one moving him? Why was no one breaking the connection? He sure as hell couldn’t! As much as he tries to pull away the Djinn's grip latches onto him like a vise. “You’re a monster! A monster!” She spits, so close now her nose is nearly touching his. 

“I’d never hurt you…” Stiles hears himself repeating over the voice of his nine year old vision and the slap she sends him fades through and out his cheek. 

“YOU BEING HERE HURTS ME! YOU BREATHING HURTS ME! IT KILLS ME!—“ And then it’s not Claudia anymore. And god, why won’t anyone move him? Why won’t anyone break it? Because Stiles can’t… Can’t look at his father’s drunken face. Can’t stand here watching the broken beer bottle fly passed his head again. He doesn’t, didn’t even flinch when the liquid splattered on and around him. Not then. Not now as Noah picks up where his wife left off. “You killed her! She was terrified of you and it killed her! You think I wanted this? You think I want to look at your face every day? You think I want to see her eyes looking back at me from you!?” Noah slams his hand against the invisible wall and Stiles recoils at the echo of the next words. 

“You killed her. And now you’re killing me too.” 

“Stiles!” Stiles feels his knees buckle as he’s dragged away. 

Derek’s arms pulling him forward, into his chest as the Djinn screeches from somewhere behind them. He knows the images are gone. Knows if he looks up now the preserve would be quiet and dark and normal. But he doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have the energy to stand much less turn his head. 

He feels Derek wrap the leather jacket around his shoulders. Feels him pressing his cheek down into his hair. Scenting him, talking to him but he can’t make out the words and he can’t stop the tears from rushing down his face and he can’t look at any of them. 

“Stiles! Stiles, hey.” Derek says frantically, pushing him back to try and meet his eyes and when Stiles does meet them Derek lets out a broken whine. “It’s not real. Stiles. It’s not!” He says fiercely. 

“It was…” Is all he can think to say and he watches the alpha’s face break a little more. Bright green eyes glossy and lips trembling and... god not Derek. Anyone but Derek. Of all the terrible things that would come of this... to have his alpha’s pity…

Stiles can’t do it. Doesn’t know how to do it. Doesn’t know how to breathe, to move, to be. He feels the air closing in around him, sees the black dots blot out his vision and then everything goes black. 

[twpromptsillneverwrite]

Stiles: Do you wanna have my cherry?

Derek: Pretty sure I already got it.

Stiles: From my cake.

Derek: Yeah! That's where I took it from.

Isaac: I think next time you should celebrate your birthday on your own.

[halestrom]

the bradshaw twins

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradley and Levi 'Kane' Bradshaw.

They both lost their parents and didn't know how to deal with it. Rooster, went canon as we know. Levi went to the marines because he needed to get away from all the memories, but he never wanted to fly. They fell apart as brothers because both of their jobs took them to places where communication was hard and they were the best of the best. They did their best, but they hadn't talked in a few years, neither one knowing how to bridge the gap.

Right up until the events of the Gorge end up with far reaching consequences as the US Navy finds out about the Gorge and the Navy tasks it's elite squadron the Daggers into making sure everything has been destroyed, with the help of Levi and Drasa who tell them Admiral Simpson everything they know with the promise of their freedom on the line.

Everything is going great, until the ghosts of his past come to haunt him as he comes face to face with his twin brother and the two of them have to deal with A Lot of shit.

Mostly, would it really be a Dagger mission if there wasn't Bradshaw family drama??

[bubblesandpages]

[sototallynormaliswear]

Stiles: When me and Derek get a divorce, it WILL be in an IKEA. that place is built for divorces

Isaac: are. are you two married??

Stiles, hasn't even kissed him yet: ...no?

Derek: I don't see how that's relevant

[sexybritishllama]

everyone like ‘why is devon with ricken?? she’s so cool she could do so much better’ is right but have you never come across the phenomenon of incredibly cool funny beautiful women who decide to be in a relationship with Some Guy who does not deserve her? in a show full of weird shit that’s arguably one of the most normal things going on

[stereksimp]

Stiles: Lydia, my strawberry haired goddess, how are you this fine morning?

Scott: *to Derek* ummm... you cool, dude.

Derek: Yeah why.

Scott: Cause Stiles is flirting with Lydia, and you're dating him.

Derek: I have nothing to worry about. Plus he's not really flirting. Watch.

Derek: Stiles, baby, come here.

Stiles: *stops talking mid scentance with Lydia* Yeah, Der, what's up? *slips arms around his waist under the leather jacket*

Derek: *just kisses him on the forhead*

[takaraphoenix]

As much as I absolutely hate the fact that canon just stole Alphahood from Derek for an essay's worth of reasons, I do love just how easy it is to go "and then Peter killed one of the spare Alphas running around town".

The Hale Pack existing is honestly non-negotiable for me at this point. How that happens doesn't matter, if we just don't take it from Derek, at all, if we just pretend all of 3B doesn't happen and there is only one pack or if the two packs exist at the same time, all valid options.

But I've developed such a soft spot for Peter getting a second chance at Alphahood.

I love Derek, I love all the fix-its where he grows and becomes a better Alpha, but at this point, I honestly think he is a better and happier Right Hand than he was an Alpha. The role he filled in 3B really suited him and I do think that if we keep the canon of him losing his status as an Alpha to save Cora's life... but still keep the Hale Pack... Derek would be a great Right Hand in the Hale Pack, which I remain believing was always his intended role, at Laura's side.

But Peter! Peter as an Alpha. Peter getting to gather a pack of his own. Preferably the Hale Pack, aka all the canonically-written-off-the-show characters who were Hale Pack. Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Jackson, Cora. They were all written off the show so to put them back into the Hale Pack wouldn't even affect the canon pack.

(It's so easy to pretend that Boyd and Erica just... ran away. Didn't run into the Alpha Pack. Because when I say the Hale Pack existing is non-negotiable, I very much do mean "Erica and Boyd live is non-negotiable" too.)

Maybe Peter gathers them because he is clinging onto what little is left of the Hale Pack, the legacy of a centuries old and proud werewolf family. Put the broken pieces together with the same fierce determination with which he avenged his family.

There's something so... cathartic about that, to me? He lost absolutely everything, including his sanity and his own life, so for him to get and use this second chance, back from the dead and decidedly saner than in season 1, to thus also get a second chance at being Alpha and getting to be a proper Alpha, it feels like coming full circle to me and I love it.

Or maybe he doesn't really care at all at first, maybe he starts caring by accident. Because there was always only one person he wanted in his pack, in canon. So if that person comes with some add-ons? Maybe he builds his pack around Stiles.

That's it. That's my ideal Hale Pack. Peter, Stiles, Derek, Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Jackson. Other things can be shuffled around - like I mentioned earlier, I do also love to just fully ignore the whole 3A plot, so have them all be one pack, that's fine too - but at the core, these are the Hale Pack, to me.

[screaming-sparrow]

@darkerwaved get speechbubbled!

[halestrom]

“You should kiss me at midnight.”

Jake stilled, turning his head to stare at Rooster, well aware of the silence around them as the daggers stopped and stared at them. He thought of a dozen things to ask. Or say, as he leaned back in his chair and took in Rooster. His over shirt was long gone. Leaving him in clearly loved t-shirt with long faded words, a size or two small so it stretched across his chest and stopped above his bellybutton, a good few inches of tan skin bared. His hair was messy, alcohol and a long afternoon fading into night making his curls win the fight against whatever he used to keep them in place. He was sweaty, but they all were. The bar was sweltering, and Jake had long since unbuttoned his shirt, soaking up the attention in the form of eyes staring at his chest. Rooster looked good. He knew he did if the smirk on his face was any indication.

But Jake wasn’t ever gonna make things easy.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked, tilting his chin up, daring, commanding an answer worth his time.

Rooster didn’t back down. “I suck dick real well when motivated. And I love making out so it’s good motivation.”

Fanboy groaned, tilting against Payback as others around them gagged but Jake ignored them. “I wanna leave but I don’t, you know?” He hissed, trying to be quiet but too drunk.

Jake ignored him, and the eyerolls directed his way. “And?” He bent his elbow to prop his chin on his fist. “So, do I. You’re not special.”

“No?”

Jake grinned. “Nah. Try again.”

“Well, the fact that it’s not an instant no says a lot,” Rooster said, not moving, gaze locked with Jake’s, and it felt like the rest of the world fell away.

This was a moment that had always had the chance to be there. It never built. It simmered. Lingering under the surface for a long time and aside from one ill advised hook up had never gone anywhere. And Jake knew it never would because their career was the most important thing. They wouldn’t fuck that up. Not unless they were sure.

And it seemed like Rooster was finally taking that chance.

Jake hummed, watching Rooster for a long moment, the bar around him fading. “Buy me a drink.”

Rooster grinned, looking at the still full glass of beer. “You’ve got one.”

“Maybe I don’t like this one.”

“You’re a big boy. You can buy your own.”

Jake snorted. “Wow. Really selling it there.”

Rooster shrugged again, smirk firmly in place. Ever since the mission a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and Jake would be lying to himself if it didn’t want to draw him in. The second guessing was done, and all the ego Rooster pretended to have before had changed. He wasn’t pretending anymore, and Jake would be lying if it didn’t feel like catnip to him. He knew he had an ego, and more than one person he had been with had commented on how he could almost steamroll over everyone. But Rooster had never been one of those people. He had met Jake word for word. Comment for comment and had never backed down.

“I don’t need to sell it sweetheart. You’re just being an asshole because you can.”

Jake let out a bark of laughter at the, mostly, accurate statement. He was being an asshole just because he could. But he was also doing it because he had always loved it when Rooster fought back. “That so?”

Rooster raised his beer to his lips with a smile. “Yeah baby. It is.”

“Hmmm, well, doesn’t seem like you’re getting a kiss,” Jake said, leaning back and picking up his own drink to finish it off in a long swallow, not breaking the gaze.

Rooster tilted his head back, watching Jake as he stood. “Yeah I am.”

“Confident,” Jake said, knocking his knuckles against the table, breaking the spell. “And on that note, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

As if summons, one of the over worked waitresses appeared, handing Jake a drink with a jerk of her head toward Rooster before she disappeared again, the crowd beginning to surge as the minute warning started. Jake stared at the drink, and then back at Rooster who was grinning, proud of himself. He leaned back against the chair and crooked a finger toward Jake who was half staring at the drink wondering how the fuck Rooster had managed to do that. They weren’t at the Hard Deck, which would’ve made sense, but it was a random bar for the night, they all needed to get away from the Navy for one night.

Jake heard a round of groans as he shrugged, grabbed the drink and walked around the table and slid into Roosters lap, surprising the man if the raised eyebrows were any indication.

Shurgging, Jake wrapped an arm around Roosters neck and shifted forward, his legs spreading wide so he could get close and he felt a hand rest on his lower back, sliding under his shirt.

“Told you that you just needed to buy me a drink,” Jake said with a smirk, reaching back and setting the drink down.

Rooster snorted. “Was that it?”

Jake shook his head. “Nah, the competence.” He paused and leaned in closer as the countdown hit thirty. “There’s nothing better than a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.”

That made Rooster laugh, shaking his head. “Baby, trust me I’ve always known I’ve wanted you. I just had to fight some shit out.”

“And you have?”

The hand on his back slid lower into his back pocket as the countdown hit ten. “Yeah I have.”

Jake curled his hands around Rooster’s neck, thumbs stroking over his jaw as he pressed in closer, feeling fingers dig into his ass.

“Right answer,” he said just as the count hit zero and Jake kissed Bradley, feeling the other man surge up into the kiss as the crowd around them started to cheer as the New Year rolled in.