#derek's malfunctioning for a while

[jade-bright]

Stiles having dinner one night at the Hale's

Stiles: If Derek doesn't cry on our wedding day, I'll hit him with wolfsbane until I see tears

Derek, and all the other Hale's: *choking on food/water*

Stiles: Oh, calm down, I'd heal yo-

Derek, softly: Wedding day?

Stiles:

Derek:

Stiles, going red: Yeah, what about it Hale?

[hedwig221b]

Fake/pretend relationship sterek fics 🥹

Here you go!

Waiting In The Wings by stereksterek

Melissa folded her arms and stared at Stiles, “I’m still having a hard time believing that Derek Hale, of all people, is your boyfriend now.” “Yep! Derek’s my boyfriend! We’re totally rocking the whole relationship thing. I mean, we’re no Scott and Allison when it comes to PDA, but we’re both very affectionate behind closed doors. It’s kind of hilarious actually, because some people think that Derek doesn’t even like me when we’re in public, just because he growls or glares at me from time to time. But we’re just a misunderstood couple, y’know… Kind of like other star-crossed lovers out there. We’re basically this generation’s Romeo and… Miguel.” Melissa was grinning so wide that her face almost hurt. Stiles had wildly overcompensated, and now she knew he was lying. “If you and Derek are boyfriends, you won’t have a problem inviting him over for dinner then.” Stiles malfunctioned for a full second before squawking like a dying bird, “Dinner?!”

Let’s Play Pretend (For A Little While) by greenleaf

Derek asks Stiles to pretend to be his boyfriend for his sister’s wedding. It doesn’t go as Derek expected. It turns out better.

Best Laid Accidents by disast3rtransp0rt

Stiles was halfway down a perfectly lovely doom spiral when Derek said a series of words in such an uncannily chipper tone that Stiles was pretty sure he’d paused the panic attack to stroke out: “That’s wonderful news, Keith. Congratulations on the internship. You’ll have to swing by our place sometime for dinner while you’re in town. Right, babe?” “Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Derek moved his hand from bracing Stiles’ shoulder to resting over his hip, pulling him gently sideways until the gap between their bodies disappeared. “Stiles is an incredible cook.” “I look forward to finding out.” The lines of Keith’s posture had tightened significantly since Derek started talking but Stiles could barely take in all the little details like he generally would. His brain was working overtime to go at half its usual speed. Had Derek just– Did Derek really mean– Was he seriously–

An Omega for Christmas by AnotherSigh

Derek is a successful alpha, has a good job, a nice house and a stable pack. But Chritsmas and his birthday are coming. He is going to be 32 years old and his family is expecting him to bring someone home. He doesn’t need an omega to be happy. But he might have told a lie that he has a boyfriend and he would take him home for this Christmas party. Maybe he was lucky that a certain hyperactive omega told the same lie.

Sometimes It Takes a Misunderstanding To Know Where You Stand by gryvon

"Stiles!" Oh, that was not a good tone. Stiles froze, then remembered Derek was three hours away and couldn't strangle him through the phone. "Do you want to explain why your father thinks we're dating?"

The Wedding Date by Renmackree

Stiles Stilinski has a problem and with his cousin's wedding coming up, he may need to swallow his pride and tell the truth. Laura Hale has a better idea.

He's Not Mine by Sunnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

smells like nirvana and lasagna by haybelle

“Derek, I agreed to be your fake date, not be smothered by you. What are you doing?” Derek lifted his head slightly from Stiles’ neck, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I’m scenting you, you idiot. If my family is going to believe we’re dating, then we need to smell like it.”

It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.

The Rental Boyfriend by EvanesDust

It wasn’t part of Stiles’s plan to actually get a rental boyfriend just to experience a first date. It also wasn’t part of his plan to stumble upon Derek Hale’s page and hire him for a few hours every week. And Stiles definitely hadn't meant to actually start falling for the guy. …or the one where Stiles hired Derek to be his boyfriend and promptly fell in love. Oops.

According to Plans by eldee

Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn't have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles' plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)

part-time soulmate, full-time problem by Renmackree

Stiles had seen it all in his five years of supernatural shenanigans, but never in his life would he have guessed returning to Derek's old stomping grounds in New York, especially under the guise of Derek's magical Mate. It was going to be an exciting summer.

Like it or Not by Halevetica

Stiles works as the editorial assistant at Vogue. He loves everything about his job except for his boss, Derek Hale. Derek Hale is the worst and Stiles hates him. But when Derek drags him to the yearly awards dinner within the company, he is forced to play boyfriend for the night to make Derek's ex jealous. Things couldn't get much worse…or so Stiles thought.

I Would Fake Forever With You by Halevetica

Derek Hale is the black sheep of the family, always has been. That's why he moved to Seattle. Now he's got a job he loves, a nice apartment with an incredibly hot and endearing neighbor, Stiles Stilinski. One night when Derek's overly large and demanding family shows up early for their yearly visit, they run into Stiles, who is accidentally introduced as Derek's boyfriend.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

The One Where They All Go to New York for a Wedding by Chioces

Derek is invited to New York for a wedding, of corse it is customary for an Alpha to bring his entire pack to such an event, and Stiles somehow becomes his fake date. Oops!

Mates and Mushrooms by mikkimouse

Derek's not that excited about spending three days at a conference getting propositioned by every Alpha with a single pack member. Stiles has a plan to make it stop. It might be a great plan…if only Derek weren't head over heels in love with him. It might be an even better plan if someone at the conference didn't have a vested interest in Derek staying single.

The Newlywed Game by Captain_Loki

Stiles is (still) single when the pack's getaway to the Caribbean comes by (oh misplaced optimism); lucky for him Derek is committed to being uncommitted and even after all these years is still powerless against Stiles' unique forms of persuasion. Cue a romantic getaway for two: sun, sand, and sarcasm abound…and the two roped into competing in the Resort's version of the Newlywed game. Only it's completely obvious it's going to end in disaster. Probably homicide. Most probably homicide. Plot twist: It doesn't.

Relationship Status: It's complicated by kellifer_fic

Okay, I know this is a huge stretch for you, but can you please pretend you're like, into me?

El Corazón del Lobo by heartsdesire456

Derek drove back into Beacon Hills on a Tuesday morning seven years after he had left it last with one single thought: “Why am I doing this?” But in his heart, Derek knew exactly why. (In which Stiles suffers temporary memory loss and any serious emotional trauma could give him permanent damage so Scott calls Derek to come back and fake like he and Stiles are still together so that Stiles can heal)

pretty in tents by kellifer_fic

Even though he’s making fun of it, Stiles thinks the whole thing sounds awesome and, like most stuff these days, the experience is going to be totally wasted on Scott.

Wear Me Down and Wear Me Out by HakeberHooligan

The Ninth Decennial Greater Northern American Werewolf Symposium has arrived, and Stiles is dead set on going. Derek thinks he holds the trump card when he explains to Stiles that as a human, the only way he'd be safe is if he was Derek's mate. Of course, that deters Stiles approximately zero percent, and that's how he ends up parading around as Stile's (fake) mate. He should know better by now that where Stiles is involved, things have a funny way of never going according to plan.

A Challenging Puzzle by emsmittens

Stiles was a puzzle, one that Derek was desperate to solve but then, a new werewolf showed up in town. A new werewolf who was hell-bent on making Stiles his mate, which led to Stiles and Derek pretending to be mates. Was it too late for the pining alpha or could he claim Stiles as his real mate just in time?

I Smell Just Fine..! by PaigeRhiann

Derek sighed again, “There’s something Stiles needs to understand��� he said “It’s a known fact that Werewolves are very possessive. That’s why Lydia and Allison haven’t been targeted because they smell like their mates – like pack” Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed “Why don’t I smell like pack” he was clearly offended. “It’s quite hard to smell like pack when you’re not a wolf or sleeping with one” he answered.

Kiss Me on the Hood of Your Car by cigamfossertsim

When Stiles needs a quick get-out-of-jail-free card to get him and Derek out of a jam, he claims the other man is his boyfriend. After a bout of necessary PDA to prove their story, Stiles’s mind is rife with fantasies about the broody werewolf that he’s largely suppressed up until now. Fantasies including Derek’s car. During the long, awkward car ride back to Beacon Hills, Stiles tries to hide his growing attraction from Derek’s keen senses unsuccessfully.

Bean Howlin' For You by MadMim

Stiles is an omega who has been crushing on his boss, Derek, for the last year. When Derek approaches him asking for his help to be his fake boyfriend as a buffer during dinner with his parents Stiles can't find the words to refuse. It makes Stiles realize how intense his feelings for the Alpha are; a realization that leads to unforeseen consequences. Luckily he isn't alone in his attraction and when his heat hits him unexpectedly he doesn't have to suffer through it alone.

[masterlist link]

[lighteyed]

lovely

spencer reid x reader

[1.9k] you think spencer's lovely.

“What is that?” You extend your hand toward Penelope’s arm as she’s walking past you, tugging her back to stand where you are, your eyes fixed in such a manner that she immediately turns to what your head is tilted toward. You don’t look at her while you say it, your thoughts hazy as your brain begins to short-circuit.

   “What is what?” She tries to see what you’re seeing but she doesn’t think she’s looking quite properly, adjusting her glasses as if that’ll paint a clearer picture of your muddled mind. She sees Spencer, at his desk, his own gaze affixed to the papers in front of him, but that’s all she sees in what she can determine as the trajectory of your stare.

   You press your mouth into a line and jerk your head toward him, pleading mentally with Penelope to understand what you’re getting at. She doesn’t. She turns back around and looks at you and says, loudly, “All I see is Spencer-“

   “For Christ’s sake,” you hiss, covering her mouth with your hand and steering her into her office, the back of your neck hot. You hope to God he hadn’t heard her, too engrossed in his workload to process anything so trivial. You shut the door behind you both with as soft a click as you can manage and peek out the window to make sure his eyes are still on his desk. They are. You take a breath and then place your hands on her shoulders. “Why would say his name so loud?”

  “I didn’t know what you were talking about! You were in a daze!” She insists, taking a seat in her chair. She pushes a second one toward you and you accept the offer, placing a hand on your forehead.

   “Didn’t you see?” You remain misty-eyed and faraway and Penelope, amused, waves a hand in front of your face.

   “See what, my darling?” She gets it now but the older-sisterly affection she feels a twinge of whenever she’s with you wants you to spell it out for her. Everyone on the team has a tendency to tease you, light-hearted, loving, warm teasing, but teasing nonetheless, the new baby of their group.

   You gesture in the direction of the bullpen. “He cut his hair.” The way the words fall from your mouth sound wonderfully hopeless and romantic to Penelope’s ears. To yours, you sound pathetic.

   “He did,” she nods encouragingly, smiling at you, a laugh threatening to spill out.

   “I thought he was really cute before the haircut,” you tell her, turning your eyes up to the ceiling, “but I think I might pass out if I have to stay in a room with him like that. I need him to, like, put on a wig or something, or a hat, before I lose it.” You rub your hand over your face.

   “I doubt he’s going to put on a wig,” you place your hands over your eyes, completely and utterly serious, and she really does laugh this time. She’s never seen you malfunction like this. You’re shy, sure, still a bit quiet with the newness of it all, with being the youngest, but you’re sharp, quick, very steady. And it amuses Penelope that it’s Spencer doing it to you. It’s not that he isn’t attractive (Derek calls him pretty boy for a reason), it’s that he’s not really one, so far as Penelope’s seen, to render women incoherent in this way. And you’ve certainly been rendered.

   “What if I ask him really nicely?” You lean back in your chair, finding the confines unbearable, unable to make yourself sit still. You flick your gaze toward the door as if he’ll walk in at any second.

   “That would require looking him in the eyes,” she says gently.

    “That’s out then,” you groan. You twist and find something of Penelope’s to pick up and fiddle with.

   “C’mon, it’s Spencer, you should tell him you like him,” she urges. She’s seen the way you look at him, dreamily, almost bursting at the seams with quiet adoration, always listening to him intently to engage in conversation in a way that won’t make you seem completely absurd. When you shake your head, still staring at the toy you’d found safety with, she presses. “He likes you. He does. And if you asked him to wear a wig I think he’d entertain the idea. He’d do anything for you.”

   “He does not. He wouldn’t.” You shake your head again and place the toy down.

    “Why wouldn’t he? You’re gorgeous, you’re sweet, you’re smart-“

   “He’s smarter-“

   “He’s smarter than everyone,” she dismisses.

   “He’s older,” you continue.

    “Not by that much,” she dismisses again. What’s four years, really? Twenty-eight and twenty-four isn’t awful by any means.

   “Yeah, but like,” you shift awkwardly. “It might as well be decades. The maturity is different. He probably thinks I’m like a child in comparison. And he’s too smart. He probably thinks I’m dumb-“

    “Spencer has never had one bad thought since you came into our lives,” Penelope interrupts, determined. “And don’t stress yourself out. He’s just some guy at the end of the day. And you’re you.”

   You know she’s right even if it doesn’t feel like he’s just some guy. Every other guy seemed to pale in comparison. He consistently proved himself to be, besides the obvious genius and maturity, kinder, and gentler, which mattered to you more than most things in a world marred by hatred and unhappiness. You tended to seek that out in men, a softness in the eyes and the words and the touch. Spencer, you’d admit, was never anything but soft with you. You attributed it to the same reason everyone else was, but you wondered if he was, perhaps, even softer. You avoided the thought carefully, always, the desire to keep your hopes and your yearning as abated as possible.

   You place your chin in your palm. “You really don’t think he’s ever had a bad thought about me?” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to think about it a little. “Even when I tripped over his chair coming in and spilled coffee all over his reports?” You’d almost cried about it until his calm hand on the small of your back had given you something more tangible to bind yourself to.

   “You realize his chair was only in the way because he was breaking his neck trying to see if you’d come in yet,” Penelope points her pen at you as you shake your head again.

  “You’re lying to hype me up!” You lament, taking her accusatory pen out of her hand and placing it down on her desk.

   “I would never lie to you!” She gasps. You give her a reproachful look and she amends, “if it wasn’t in your best interest, which, this is,  but it’s also not a lie!”

   Spencer knocks and enters without waiting for the perfunctory come in, and you find yourself sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles splayed across your pants as he does so.

  “Did I hear my name earlier?” He asks, one hand perched on the doorframe, searching both yours and Penelope’s faces for an answer.

   “Hm, I don’t think so,” you say hastily before Penelope can utter anything incriminating, smiling up at him in a way that makes him unable to do anything but smile back.

    “Alright,” he touches the back of his neck, trying to think up an excuse to get you to come back to his desk. You’re situated in the one across from him and he, pathetically so, misses you when you stray away for too long. “Do you wanna come look at something for me?” He doesn’t need anyone to look at anything for him ever, so your brows knit together in confusion, and Penelope would roll her eyes at the naiveite if she didn’t find it so sweet.

   “Me? But I-“

   “Am completely distracting me from my very important work, so it’s best you go with Spencer, sweet pea, so I can actually get things done,” she interrupts, standing up to usher you out without further argument. She can practically feel the heated embarrassment radiating off you as he holds the door open for you to step out of.

   At his desk he makes up something for you to look at and hands it to you over the threshold between your two workspaces, but he catches you looking at him more than once and feels the overwhelming sense of insecurity begin to fall in waves around him. He touches his hair awkwardly. He hadn’t thought it looked that bad this morning when he’d styled it differently, he’d cut it just yesterday, too, but he mistook your admiration for aversion and found himself wanting to run to the bathroom and fix it, somehow.

   “You think my hair looks weird, too?” He asks, leaning in a bit so he can ask it in a low, insecure tone that no one else will hear. You blink up at him in surprise. Weird was the last way you’d describe the way he looked.

   “Weird?” You repeat, the word in conjunction to him unfamiliar in your mouth. He touches it again and you notice his cheeks flush with red.

   “Hotch made fun of me. Said I look like I’m in a boyband. I won’t wear it like this again, I promise,” he punctuates the words with a laugh that doesn’t register to you as genuine.

   “No!” You practically jump out of your chair to say it, your hands flying up to meet the wood of the desk, overeager. You retreat into yourself again to say, quieter, “you look nice, don’t worry about Hotch. I-I think your hair looks…” you pause, albeit briefly, to consider if it’s what you really want to say, “I think you look lovely, Spence, don’t worry.” You don’t look at him when you say it to supplement the fact that you’re saying it at all, focused on the work in front of you.

   “Lovely?” He tries to think of the last time he found himself speechless and he comes up blank. He stares at you with those big eyes of his, pleading that you look up.

   You do. His heart twitches at the contact. “Yes, lovely,” you murmur your confirmation, your attempt to avoid eye contact futile as he holds your gaze steadily.  

   “I always think you look lovely,” he confesses, and just like everything else with him, it’s as gentle as he can manage, detecting your nerves, trying to convey that you never have to be around him.

   You pause again, your chest constricting. “Always?”

   “Always,” he nods, licking his lips, pushing down his own nerves because he knows he needs to be the brave one here. If he doesn’t make the move you might spend the rest of your time here tiptoeing around each other, love swelled up in your stomachs like balloons fit to burst, words to bring meaning to it dying on your lips. He looks around briefly to determine if anyone around is listening, and he catches them all milling about, away from your desks, allowing him to take a deep breath. “I, um, I was wondering, if maybe you’d want to go on a date with me.” He drums his fingertips on his thigh and waits.

  You practically die as he says it, a weight off your shoulders you hadn’t understood you were carrying. “Yes, yes, I would love that.”

  “Really?” He looks up and grins, halfway disbelieving, reveling in your beauty, and you nod yes again. Yes, yes, always.

[derekswife87]

In step 4, there’s a scene where Derek abruptly leaves your room and proceeds to call you on the phone to ask you out. (Granted you confessed on the balcony) During the call, you have the option of admitting that you were doubtful of his feelings for you. Naturally, he feels super guilty about this.

In a an effort to remedy his past mistakes, he now takes every chance he gets to confess to the mc. A few examples:

Example 1

Mc is dropping him off at the gym and just as they’re about to drive off, he taps on their window. Mc obviously opens their window, assuming Derek forgot something but out of the blue, he confesses.

“You know you’re the love of my life right?” He says with a twinkle in his eye, “just a reminder if you didn’t.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just lingers long enough to catch a glimpse of the mc blushing up a storm as they dramatically clutch at their chest.

Example 2

They’re out grocery shopping and the mc is carefully inspecting watermelons, when they feel Derek’s gaze on them. It remains fixated on them as they go from watermelon to watermelon, flustering the mc cause Derek is just staring at this point. Warmth creeps up the mc’s neck and when they finally look up with the chosen watermelon in hand, Derek is casually leaning over the trolley with the biggest heart eyes. Mc knows he’s up to something, it’s like a sixth sense that warns them to prepare their heart for what’s to come.

“You know,” he takes the watermelon from their hands, leaning a little closer to almost whisper, “i used to dream about doing this kind of domestic stuff with you.”

Mc malfunctions, their ears burning hot. They don’t how to act cause yes, Derek is being super cute but they’re also in public and there’s some old lady snickering about young love.

Example 3

Jorge and Nico are over for the day. They’re playing cards with the mc on the balcony, while Derek fries up some burgers. It’s mc’s turn when Derek pops his head out and mc’s sixth sense fails them.

“Mc, love of my life,” he calls out with practise ease, “you want pickles on your burger?”

The mc can only groan affirmatively as they hide their flushed face behind the cards. On the other side, Jorge is blushing just as hard, while Nico makes a face of disgust. Derek doesn’t stick around, popping back inside to ready their lunch.

“Eew,” Nico crinkles his nose,”you guys are so gross.”

“It’s not gross,” Jorge comes to the mc’s defence, “i think it’s cute.”

“I think so too,” Mc agrees, eyeing Derek through the glass door, ”really cute.”

[cardiacreports2]

A heart attack in a seemingly fit male begins with a disruption of blood flow to the heart muscle. This occurs when a coronary artery becomes blocked, often due to a rupture in a plaque deposit. Despite their fitness, lifestyle factors (e.g., caffeine, stress, or undiagnosed heart conditions) or genetic predispositions can exacerbate this risk.

As the blockage forms, the heart muscle is deprived of oxygen. The muscle cells begin to die within minutes, releasing chemical signals that trigger chest pain, tightness, or discomfort. The heart struggles to pump effectively, causing a cascade of systemic effects:

Electrical Instability: The lack of oxygen can cause the heart’s electrical system to malfunction, leading to arrhythmias like ventricular fibrillation.

Cardiac Arrest: If the arrhythmia becomes severe, the heart may stop pumping entirely, leading to a sudden loss of consciousness.

Systemic Collapse: Blood stops circulating, cutting off oxygen to the brain and other vital organs. Death can occur within minutes without immediate intervention.

10 Male Profiles

Ryan Harrington

Incident: Heart attack after an intense practice.

CPR: Attempted by a teammate.

Outcome: Died.

Details: Known for his competitive edge and love of the ocean. He had an undiagnosed congenital heart defect.

Elliot Myers

Incident: Cardiac arrest while gaming at home.

CPR: Not attempted; found too late.

Outcome: Died.

Details: Introverted and brilliant with technology, Elliot’s sedentary lifestyle masked his susceptibility to heart issues.

Derek Vargas

Incident: Cardiac arrest during a 100-meter sprint.

CPR: Administered immediately by his coach.

Outcome: Survived.

Details: Passionate about track and field and well-liked by peers, Derek had a rare electrical disorder in his heart.

Jason Bell

Incident: Heart attack during a rescue operation.

CPR: Given by colleagues.

Outcome: Survived.

Details: A natural leader and adrenaline junkie, Jason’s heart attack was triggered by physical exertion and chronic stress.

Marcus Lee

Incident: Cardiac arrest at a music festival.

CPR: Performed by a bystander.

Outcome: Died.

Details: An outgoing guy who loved concerts and DJing, Marcus had an undiagnosed condition causing arrhythmias.

Tyler Grant

Incident: Heart attack while hiking alone.

CPR: Not possible.

Outcome: Died.

Details: Passionate about food and nature, Tyler had a genetic predisposition to high cholesterol.

Nathan Cruz

CPR: Attempted by paramedics.

Outcome: Survived.

Details: Dedicated to his health, Nathan’s condition was triggered by a rare electrolyte imbalance.

Zachary Moore

Incident: Heart attack after consuming energy drinks and staying up for 36 hours.

CPR: Performed by a roommate.

Outcome: Died.

Details: A fun-loving, sarcastic guy, Zach underestimated the toll of his extreme gaming lifestyle.

Alex Coble

CPR: Not attempted; found the next morning.

Outcome: Died.

Details: A quiet creative with a passion for surrealism, Alex’s cardiac arrest was due to an undiagnosed arrhythmia.

Brandon Carter

Incident: Heart attack

CPR: Administered by gym staff.

Outcome: Survived.

Details: A hardworking and humble guy, Brandon lived for his job and his family. His heart attack was caused by an underlying valve issue.

[gghostwriter]

Yours Truly, Romeo

Chapter 3 __ Possible Connection

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

a/n: yes I used two actual romance book titles in this chapter. Brain was malfunctioning with giving titles so hope that’s alright

Previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

"A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life." - Prologue, Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare

Olivia was surrounded by police officers riffling through her once safe home. Her solace now invaded with too much testosterone endlessly asking questions as if she had any clue as to who would send her such a horrible thing. Repeatedly saying no until she was blue to her face, she was then told that they had called in the big guns for her case with no explanation as to what they had meant.

And within a few hours, she had figured out what they implied. The FBI had gone and come knocking on her door.

“Hi, Ms. Olivia Hill,” a dark skinned, t-shirt wearing man approached her with a lanky, tall male a few steps behind him. “My name is Agent Derek Morgan, I work for the FBI and this is Dr Spencer Reid. We’d like to ask some questions regarding the letters.”

She dropped her head into her hands, feeling a headache coming. “I’ve already told everything I could to the police officers earlier, I don’t see how me telling it again could be much of help.” 

“Actually, we’d like to know more about the two letters the unsub has sent,” the doe eyed, sweater vest wearing agent clarified. “In both of the letters, he used quotes from Romeo & Juliet by Shakespeare, do you have any idea as to why he’s relating that famous romance write up to you?” 

“Maybe it’s because I’m a writer. Honestly, I don’t know,” she stressed out. “All I do is write romance novels, that’s not a crime nor is it a high risk lifestyle. So why me?” 

Both men shared a look, clearly noting that she was fraying at the seams. Derek silently signaled to Spencer to stay put while he took a look around the house for any leftover clues and to profile the victim. Spencer then proceeded to sit in silence in front of Olivia, hoping his presence would bring a small sense of comfort. 

She was beautiful even when frazzled, taking note of her profile. Her amber eyes speckled with hints of gold framed with red rims no doubt from crying. Wavy chestnut hair with hints of maroon underneath the sunlight entering the study windows. She had the type of subtle beauty that would attract even a stranger walking past the street to do a double take. 

“Have you had a lot of cases like these?” She asked, bringing him back from his musings. 

“Do you mean stalking cases? Yes we’ve had our fair share of stalking cases,” he explained further. “Statistically speaking, an estimate of 13.5 million people are stalked in a one year period and the vast majority of victims are stalked by someone they know—40% by a current or former intimate partner and 42% by an acquaintance.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, clearly intrigued with the agent in front of her. “And how do you know all that? The statistics I mean.”

“It’s based on a government report,” he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You know, you look a little bit too young to be a Doctor and an FBI agent,” she slightly smiled. “Let me guess, PhD instead of MD, is that right?”

“3 PhDs actually.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re a genius then.” 

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified but I do have an IQ of 187, Ann eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he stated. “But yes, I’m a genius.” 

“Well then Dr Spencer Reid, do you have a statistic for me on how many of stalking cases get solved without the victim ending up dead?” She questioned as her fingers started drumming on her thighs. 

A nervous tick of hers, he noted. 

“85% of women who reported stalking survive murder attempts with the help of authorities,” He stated reassuringly as the slight smile on her face falls, replaced with a furrowing of her eyebrows. “We’ll keep you safe, there’s nothing to worry about.”

She took a deep breath trying to push the morbid thoughts of being kidnapped and dying out of her scattered mind. “Can you distract me, please? I—I find your voice and ramblings quite comforting.” 

He felt his cheeks and ears warm at that thought. Usually the team found his monologues quite tedious and never lets him finish and here was an attractive stranger telling him otherwise. “You mentioned that you write novels for a living. Any chance I could have read one of them?” 

Her laughter fills the room and warms the deep crevices of his heart. 

“Unless you’re a closeted romance reader, I don’t think so. You strike me as more of a classic literature or academic reading type of guy,” she teased. “A Dostoevsky or Tolstoy type of reader.” 

“You’re right. That's some great profiling,” he bantered back, glad to have successfully distracted the damsel in distress in front of him. “And you're a Bronte or Austen fan."

“Austen. Specifically her work, Emma.” 

He appraised her with a smile. “A true romanticist then.” 

“Well, I am a romance writer after all,” she blushed, heart skipping a beat at his wide boyish grin. Her palms sweaty as she realized her attraction to the genius in front of her even with the frightening scenario that led them to cross paths.

That thought sobered her up. “You mentioned that I might know this unsub—” 

He nodded, silently waiting for her to continue.

“—I played Juliet once for a high school play, do you think that’s why he calls me that in his letters?” 

“Yes—yes that could be the link,” he quickly answered. “Is that an information that anyone near you and your circle would know of?” 

She shook her head. “It’s not something I advertise. I mean, my acting wasn’t great and I was actually just the understudy of the understudy forced to take the role since the actress and her first understudy both got hit with a stomach flu. It’s actually what led me down to the path of writing.” 

“Can you think of anyone who would know that specific detail?” He asked urgently, bringing out his phone ready to contact Garcia for a background check. 

She rambled on the names of her publicist, literary agent and immediate family members.

“Hey Garcia, I need you to run a background check on Olivia’s publicist and literary agent,” Spencer stated over the phone with no time for pleasantries. “See if they have any connection to Maryland.” 

“Maryland?” Olivia repeated under her breath, confusion marring her face as she pondered about the new piece of information that seemed vital for the FBI to note.

She closed her eyes as her mind started to look for a pattern regarding the incomplete information she was privy to. The images, the body parts and her life as she knew it. Like a lightbulb going off on her head, she gasped and quickly rounded to her bookshelf lining the walls of her study.

In the background, Spencer noticed her agitated and hurried actions. “Garcia, I’m going to have to call you back.” 

She pulled out all the printed first draft copies of her books and all its final published version. Flipping them open on the table, she scanned the inks on the pages, comparing the details typed out on her first draft and the missing on the published print, as he approached from behind her.

“Oh god,” she repeated again and again under her breath.

Spencer squeezed her shoulders to stop her from hyperventilating. “I need you to take a deep breath for me—“

She followed, grateful for his presence.

“—and tell me what is, Olivia.” 

“I—I know why he’s doing all of this,” she sobbed out as she tried to unsuccessfully stop the tears from leaking. “It’s me—my writing that he’s basing it on.”

“Your writing?” He clarified, stroking her hair to ease her cries.

“He’s, oh god—uhm—he’s collecting all the characteristics of my male leading characters. But how could he know those details? We edited those out of the published pieces.” 

He held her hand and quickly scanned the opened pages on the table. The light skinned torso clean of any hair from her first book—Lovers of Midnight. The veiny arms and hands from her second book—Love, Theoretically. And the chiseled jawline and high bridge nose from her latest unreleased book—Book Lovers. 

Spencer called Derek back into the study. 

“Reid,” he stated, noting the tears in Olivia’s face and the intertwined hands in between the two occupants of the room with an eyebrow raised. “You have something?” 

He nodded, squeezing Olivia’s hand in his. “I think we have our profile.” 

[swappingbryn]

Contest Winning Halloween Costume

My name is Derek, and I everyone around here knows my name and gives me as much space as I demand.

Halloween was coming up and I had secured an invitation to a highly exclusive party, obviously invite only, filled with hot chicks, free drinks, and the best part was the costume contest with a $10,000 prize. The rules were simple, “Best Costume Wins, No Holds Barred.” I had an idea, I’d need my buddy’s help, but he wasn’t invited to the party and I’d cut him in on the prize money if it work.

My plan was to go to the party in a different body, the ultimate costume. My buddy’s dad worked for a government research company that had perfected the technology. Before I even started looking for a body, I made sure all the body swap trope shit wouldn’t be a problem, like it wasn’t a one way trip, there wasn’t an issue with a body swapping back with itself, if the machine was destroyed we wouldn’t be trapped and there were other machines capable of doing the swap in case one malfunctioned.

Satisfied, I went about finding the best, most different than my own, body. I found it as I was leaving the gas station, he was a guy asking for change on the side of the road. He had to be close to sixty, his clothes were dirty and looked greasy, and I could smell him as I approached. I gave him a $20 and asked if he wanted to make more. He thanked me, but looked suspicious and asked what I meant. I explained my plan and offered him $200 to swap, and an extra $250 if I won using his body. I explained that it was safe, that all the safety protocols were in place, that there was no risk. He just laughed and said “it seems like if anything happens, I don’t need to worry about being safe, I’d be making out pretty well.” I guess he was right haha.

We went to the lab and initiated the swap, and it went off without a hitch. I walked out of the room in his old, smelly, dirty body. When I got to the party, I was stopped at the door (which is a good sign that I’d be winning the contest, since no one recognized me), but I presented the invite and explained who I was, so I was let in. I was definitely in a great position to win, no one recognized me, and when the host questioned me, I pointed out he specifically said “no holds barred,” which made him laugh and reply “you’re right bro, you’re right.” I spent the night drinking (which didn’t do much to me since I guess this hobo has a high tolerance), hitting on chicks, who weren’t into it since I looked gross. When the contest winner was announced, it was no surprise I won. The host even said “I know it’s seems like a cheat, but I did say ‘no holds barred,’ which I meant to mean much less drastic measures, but still, his WAS the best costume, no one would ever guess it was him.”

I collected my winnings and decided to leave soon after. Chicks were ignoring me, alcohol didn’t work, other guys avoided me saying I smelled, and this body ached all over with age and years of abuse on the streets. I went back to meet my body and swap back. He wasn’t where we agreed to meet and I freaked out, he was supposed to wait for me and not leave. However my fear subsided as he walked over, saying he didn’t expect me back for a while. Turns out while I was gone, he’d gone to the gym with my buddy who had helped us swap, my body said on their way back he stopped to get a drink from the store, and apologized for using $5 from my wallet. I was so relieved and just laughed, I told him not to worry about the $5.

We went back to the lab and got ready. I gave my body the money and kept his $250 in his pants, and he placed my money in my jacket pocket, since after the swap we’d both have our money. The machine whirled and flashed, but nothing happened. We tried it again, I felt it working, but nothing happened. I asked what the fuck was wrong, and my buddy’s dad said there was a problem with my body, it was resisting the swap. This homeless fuck was preventing us from getting back. He promised he wasn’t doing anything, he was ready to swap back, he knew it was only fair.

My buddy’s dad ran some tests and said he figured out the problem, turned to me and said “it doesn’t look good,” before looking at my body and asking “do you want to swap back?” “Of course, I have to give him his body back, it’s only right,” my body replied. “That’s not what I asked. Do you WANT to swap back or would you rather stay like that?” “Well, I mean, I obviously like this body more. I’m younger, better looking, I don’t smell, and people don’t walk away from me to avoid me. But I know I can’t keep it.” “See Luke, that’s the problem. He is willing to return your body, he’s consenting to it, but he doesn’t WANT to swap back. The machine wasn’t calibrated for a forced swap, and we can’t change that mid swap. Since his mind doesn’t want to swap, the machine won’t do it.”

That was almost a year ago. That fucker has been in my body all that time. He has been living as Luke Potter, the hot jock, the big man on campus. He has been hooking up with everyone he can find, guy or girl, he’s been doing a little modeling and even became an OF star and gay findom.

And I’m stuck as Derek Grainger, the old, fat, drunk hobo. I developed a huge reputation at the homeless camp under the bridge. I’m ready and willing to fight any motherfucker that gets in my way. No one believes me about some swap, they think I’m just an old alcoholic that imagined it.

[mywritesaremylove]

Shock to the System - Part 3

Mark Sloan x Dr. Cameron Blake (OC)

Mandatory. Black tie. No exceptions.

That was the subject line of the Chief’s email.

Cameron had groaned when she read it—halfway through her third energy drink in a 24-hour shift. She wasn’t the “ballgown and champagne flute” kind of girl. Give her scrubs, trauma shears, and a burrito any day.

But Callie had lit up the moment she found out. “Oh, we’re going full glam,” she declared. “You’re going to destroy.”

Cameron rolled her eyes. “You’re acting like I’m about to walk a red carpet.”

“Correction: You’re about to walk into a room full of surgeons who think you sleep in Crocs. This is your moment.”

It turned out Callie was right.

When Cameron walked into the hotel ballroom that night, five feet of blonde bombshell in a floor length, slinky black gown with a thigh-high slit, soft curls, smoky eyes, and sky-high stilettos—everything stopped.

Conversations faltered. Glasses paused halfway to lips.

People stared.

Not because they were being rude. But because they were seeing her for the first time.

They were used to the petite trauma surgeon in ponytails and sarcasm, barking orders while covered in blood. Not this.

And certainly not her arm in arm with Callie Torres, striding in like they owned the place.

Somewhere near the bar, Cristina muttered, “Damn. She has legs?”

Arizona choked on her wine.

Alex Karev caught her halfway to the table.

“Blake?” he said, doing a slow, exaggerated once-over. “I thought you were one of the interns.”

Cameron smirked. “I get that a lot.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’d you do, stand on a box?”

She shot him a look, adjusting her clutch. “Nope. I brought out the big heels tonight. I’m five-five. Fear me.”

Alex barked out a laugh. “You’re still half a Karev. What do you want, a cookie?”

“I’ll take a martini,” she said breezily. “With vodka and validation.”

They bickered playfully for a bit, tossing insults like old friends. Alex had a soft spot for her, though he’d never admit it. She reminded him of Izzie if Izzie had been meaner.

He nudged her with his elbow. “So where’s your shadow?”

“My…?”

“You know.” He nodded across the room. “McStarey over there.”

Cameron followed his gaze—and froze.

Mark Sloan was standing by the silent auction table, mid-conversation with Derek and Owen. But he wasn’t talking anymore.

He was staring at her.

Jaw slightly slack. Scotch forgotten in his hand.

She’d seen Mark look at a lot of women. Hell, she’d seen him flirt with half the nursing staff on a Tuesday. But she had never seen him look like that.

Like he didn’t have a single thought in his head except her.

Cameron cleared her throat and turned back to Alex. “You’re imagining things.”

Alex snorted. “Sweetheart, the entire room is imagining you and Sloan against a wall.”

She kicked him lightly with her stiletto. “Rude.”

“True.”

The fundraiser was one of those overly fancy affairs where the wine was overpriced, the food was underseasoned, and the mingling was exhausting.

Cameron spent most of it chatting with Meredith and Callie, who kept nudging her every time Mark looked their way.

“Okay, he’s fully malfunctioning,” Meredith murmured during the opening speech. “You broke Sloan.”

Callie sipped her drink. “Good. Let him suffer.”

Cameron fidgeted with the stem of her wineglass. “Why am I nervous? This is Mark.”

“Because Mark Sloan flirts with everyone,” Callie said. “But he only looks at you like that.”

Around nine, when people were buzzing with champagne and silent auction competitiveness, Cameron stepped out onto the hotel balcony for air.

The night was cool. The music was softer out here, faint through the glass doors. She leaned on the railing, closing her eyes for just a second.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

She knew it was him before he said anything.

“Hey.”

Cameron turned her head slowly, and God help her, Mark Sloan in a black tux might have been the most dangerous version of him yet.

She didn’t let it show.

“Hey, yourself.”

He stopped beside her, leaning against the railing. “You clean up well.”

She arched a brow. “That’s the line?”

He smirked. “I’m trying to be respectful. You’ve made it very difficult.”

“You’re usually not this subtle.”

“I’m usually not this surprised.”

She tilted her head. “Surprised?”

Mark looked at her, the way he always did when the jokes dropped away. “Cam… You walked in tonight and I forgot how to breathe.”

Her stomach did a slow somersault.

“I didn’t know you even owned heels,” he added.

“I didn’t know you had that tux without blood on it.”

“Touche.”

They stood in silence for a beat.

Then he glanced down at her. “People are talking, you know.”

“Oh, I know. Karev told me.”

“Half the hospital has a betting pool.”

Cameron snorted. “What’s the line?”

“Next week’s trauma board,” he said dryly. “I think Lexie’s running the pot.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “What do they think is happening?”

He leaned a little closer. “Depends. You want to give them something to talk about?”

Her breath caught.

But then—as always—she smiled instead of leaning in. “Where’s the fun in that? Let them wonder.”

Mark looked at her for a long moment. Then nodded slowly. “Cruel.”

“Or strategic.”

He chuckled, but it was low, quiet. Not his usual swagger-laugh. This one sounded a little dangerous.

She looked back at the skyline, the city glittering beyond the balcony.

“It’s kind of nice, though,” she said.

“What is?”

“This.” She motioned between them. “Being… us. Whatever we are.”

Mark nodded. “I like it.”

“No pressure. No expectations. Just…”

“Slow.”

“Exactly.”

He was quiet for a moment. “But not too slow, right?”

She smiled, then looked up at him with teasing eyes. “Depends. How high are those heels?”

“Five inches.”

He stepped closer. “So you’re almost tall enough to kiss me.”

Cameron’s heart skipped.

She didn’t move.

Neither did he.

They just stood there—on the edge of something electric, sparking against the backdrop of string lights and murmured laughter from inside.

And finally, Mark said softly, “You tell me when, Cam. I’ll wait.”

She blinked up at him, stunned for half a second.

Then smiled.

“Okay.”

Back inside, Alex passed Meredith a folded napkin.

“Ten bucks says Sloan breaks in two weeks.”

Meredith smirked. “I give her one.”

[horriblengrossstories]

(I wanna stop asking dumb questions but I can’t… I just feel like I’m bothering you by asking so many things) anyway—what about an MC who overthinks everything and just tenses up with any kind of affection? (like that time a friend told me they liked me and I just froze like a stiff loaf of bread). I’m sorry but MC is 100% becoming a reflection of all the silly stuff I do.Can I keep asking anonymous questions? They actually cheer me up a lot, but I’m scared I’m annoying you with all my self-projection onto MC 😭

-🍰

My Peeps, this is a self ship blog!

You are supposed to project. You're allowed to ask as many questions as you want, especially if they bring you comfort. That’s literally what this space is for :D

Mutt is a mirror. She’s you. She’s me. She’s every little feral, frozen, overwhelmed, traumatized, giggling mess that survived long enough to still love things. Still ask questions. Still be here.

So yes send 100 anonymous asks!!!!

Send self-insert overthinking loaf-of-bread brain headcanons.

Tell me how you freeze up when someone is nice to you. I get it. That’s Mutt Core.

That’s exactly what Derek likes to squish with his scary warm hands.

Fandoms don’t die because people stop liking things they die because people get scared to talk, to be weird, to be wrong, or to just exist loudly. And when it turns into a purity test or a popularity contest instead of a playground? People stop playing.

It’s not a fandom anymore. It’s a museum.

Everything’s behind glass. Don’t touch. Don’t speak. Don’t question. Don't ship that. Don’t write that. Don’t be that.

And suddenly the thing that used to bring joy starts feeling like a trap.

So yeah. Let people be cringe. Let them post 3am thoughts about their blorbo’s skincare routine. Let them write 200k word fanfics about trauma bonding in a dungeon. Let them project, confess, self-insert, cope.

Okay rant over, time for the headcannons.

The first time Mutt freezes when he touches her? Derek’s like a shark smelling blood in the water. Except instead of attacking, he gets playful.

“What, that too much for you?”

“You survive me dragging you by your hair and calling you a mutt , but I touch your face and you go full rigor mortis?”

The New Game: “How Much Can I Make Her Malfunction”

Brushes her hair out of her face while staring dead in her eyes.

“There she goes. That look. Like I’m short-circuiting her little mutt brain.”

Tells her she did good and means it. She physically seizes. He laughs.

“What, you allergic to kindness? Wanna go back in the cage or are you gonna sit still and take a compliment?”

Pulls her into his lap, and she sits like she’s been petrified by a witch curse.So he pets her head. Over and over. Until she starts blinking again.

Whispered praise. Not dirty talk. Just affection. It’s more powerful than anything else.

“Good girl being all mine.”

Sometimes he’s patient. Sometimes he just holds her frozen form and murmurs dumb things like “relax, idiot, I’m not gonna bite… unless you ask real nice.”

[Birdie here again I’m 25 and I’ve seen so many fandoms die not from lack of content, but from people being too afraid to interact.

Like… people wanted to talk, but felt like they couldn’t. Felt like their takes weren’t good enough, or their art wasn’t perfect, or they’d be “problematic” for shipping the wrong thing, or they’d get ignored if they weren’t in some clique.

And so they stopped posting and stopped having fun.

And the fandom didn’t explode or implode. It just… quietly dried up.

I don’t wanna see that happen here, not to this blog.

So like the weird post. Reblog the same art four times! Send unhinged asks. Project onto characters.

To Be cringe Is To Be free.

-Birdie 🐦

Ps.All I ask is that people understand this space takes time. I make things when I can, when I have the energy and I can say no to any request, for any reason. No hard feelings, but no pressure either. Please don’t idolize me. I’m just a little punk bird yelling into the void, same as you.

Love the characters. Love the mess. Love the art.

[colethewolf]

Derek and his dad take a trip to the local sauna where his dad gets a bunch of free services by renting out Derek’s holes. As the evening ends Derek’s loose hole looks like it’s finally ready to take the knot but in doing so it knocks the D.A.D.S off his forehead and Derek comes back to while coming on his dads fat knot and a malfunction makes the effects rather permanent

Yesssssss more D.A.D chips prompts! You guys seemed to really like that fic.

[misireads]

Magic Bites by Ilona Andrews

[ physical book, read in english ]

set in near-ish future where literal waves of magic compete with "tech" and render anything modern and human-constructed useless, the story follows a young, snarky mercenary woman who wields a sword named slayer and takes no shit from anyone. she lives in atlanta and does all sorts of violent gigs killing supernatural monsters and something such. one day she discovers that her father figure, a cleric-kind of member of a local order for protecting people from all the bad shit running around, has been brutally murdered. she starts investigating this on her own, collecting clues around the city, going around talking to people and not-so-people. she becomes acquainted with a clan of local furries and fights vampires and other monsters with them. there's also a guy she sort-of dates. or more like he tries to date her.

🗡️🌃🦁

➕ i haven't read any urban fantasy for all i remember, and i rather liked this worldbuilding FWIW. the thought of there being random, chaotic waves of magic that make any technology malfunction and wrecks buildings and whatever is actually rather horrific. it's implied here that tech was still dominant a couple hundred years ago, so i assume that means our real modern times. i do wonder a little why people haven't in those 200 years come up with tech that works with magic (there seems to be some, like "feylantern" lamps of magic, but that's about it?) but whatever.

➕ the Order and the People mildly intrigued me

➕ now in all fairness, at first i was a bit excited about, uh, the first few pages, because i had just finished reading a buffy the vampire slayer AU fic and here comes a female protag who slays vampires with a sword named slayer

➖ i was about to walk in guns blazing complaining about all the things i disliked about this book, then learned that even the authors themselves dislike it and think it's a shit starter for a series, so now i feel kinda bad. but this is my blog so i'll do it regardless! here's a complete list of things i didn't like:

➖ kate is not a likeable protag to me, she's the definition of Ow The Edge and feels cold and distant while also simultaneously feeling too perfect of a character within her own universe. basically everyone likes her despite her not being nice to anyone, multiple men (if not almost all of them in the whole book, now that i think of it) want her romantically and sexually, she's already perfect at what she does at the beginning of the story, there's no story or character arch of any kind here. she's also the only female character in the book with any kind of significant role to speak of

➖ didn't like any of the other characters either. i'm extremely bored of this idea of a pack of furries i'm really really not into that kind of thing, curran is first described as a totally super fucking mysterious character who nobody ever meets and he immediately becomes some kind of boyfriend sidekick to kate who walks around the city like a normal dude. i thought derek would become her legit sidekick and the book got momentarily better at that point but then he left. i was mostly just intrigued by the necromancers (TLT brain strikes again)

➖ not the main villain though, that was uninteresting and lacked flavour on so many levels, or rather the main flavour was something foul because the setting of this book is that the bad guy is a predator who rapes and kills women. the fact that a story with a young attractive(apparently) female protag has a main villain who wants to fuck her is not only uncomfortable and tacky but also a fucking snore. i can read any crime novel if i want this plotline

➖ the pacing is insane, like this jumps into becoming a glossary of worldbuilding terminology on pages 1 and 2, and the majority of the book progresses like a point-and-click adventure game. kate gets a clue, kate walks to a place to talk to character x. this interaction gives kate a new clue. kate walks to a new place. kate talks to a new character. kate gets a new clue. kate walks to a new place. kate talks to a new character. kate gets a new clue. dry dry dry dry dry i wasn't aware i swallowed sandpaper this week

➖ these basic bitch ass names??? hate them. if i wanted to read about kates and nicks and dereks who live in america i wouldn't be reading fantasy

⭐ score: 2½ -- oi, i scored metsässä juoksee nainen as a three minus yesterday and that was a genius book compared to this, so this one cannot possibly start with a three. now, everyone and their grandmothers is praising how this is one of The Series Of All Time and gets like soooo superduperrrrr goooddd later on!!!! i'm so not interested in forcing myself to read something i don't like just because a danielle on goodreads gave it five stars. maybe one day in the future if i'm really so bored of finding new things to read, i'll get back to these fantasy series with part ones (and sassy female protags) i didn't like, such as this and throne of glass.

[sterek-ao3feed-archive]

Alpha's Power

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53235904 by Aetherial_Book_God Being Alpha meant Derek had to be the strongest, he had to be strong enough to keep the pack alive. He had to be the one whom the pack looked to for answers, so why was it so hard to say no to the temptation all around him? Particularly food and a certain ADHD human male who seemed to always be there when Derek needed him the most. As Derek's walls begin to crumble Stiles is right there at his side, encouraging him to relax, but Derek can't. He couldn't let down another family, he couldn't have what happened to his family happen to this pack. But what was so bad about letting go every once in a while? Words: 1048, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, Alan Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Male Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Button Popping, Clothing malfunction, Force-Feeding, Hand Feeding, Light Bondage, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Feeder Stiles Stilinski, Feedee Derek Hale, Derek Hale is a Softie, Domestic Fluff read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/53235904

[allinmycorner]

I remember going home when I was in middle school, grabbing a snack and then settling down to watch TRL to see what the top videos were for that day. I was a big Backstreet Boy fan so I always cheered for them to be on the list and hoped they were number one. But I loved watching the music videos and I also loved Pop-Up video, where they would put facts either about the song, the video or just some fun trivia (like popping up a fact about how most people in Africa are Muslim so they don't celebrate Christmas during the video for "Do They Know It's Christmas?").

So I was pretty excited for this theme night.

Paula Abdul joined the panel to judge the remaining stars as they danced routines inspired by some iconic music videos. They were tasked to incorporate the dance moves from the videos while remaining true to the dance style assigned to them. And then in the second round, we had the team dances.

Who is still standing after Music Video Night and who had to say Bye, Bye, Bye? Find out!

Lele and Brandon: Lele had a great night and Brandon was right that she didn't deserve to go home. It looks like the judges agreed - I caught Derek mouthing "Wow" after her elimination and then he and a concerned-looking Bruno had a pow-wow. She was assigned to dance to Shakira's "Whenever, Wherever" and rose to the challenge, letting her hips do the talking. Yes, she her lifts were a little clunky but everything else was amazing. She should've made it further but I'm glad she made as far as she did. We'll miss you, Lele.

Ariana and Pasha: This is likely to become another iconic routine. Ariana really channeled Britney for her cha-cha to "I'm a Slave 4 U" and I think incorporated the classic moves best into her cha-cha. She really did nail the middle where she led the pros in the routine from the video. Everyone was absolutely on point and Ariana looked like a pro herself. No wonder she topped the leaderboard and earned immunity from the dance off next time!

Xochitl and Val: Xochitl talked about directing a music video for a friend and how it was a great experience. She and Val then did a jazz routine to Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" and she handled it well until she had a little malfunction with her costume. She struggled to put on the replica of Stefani's band coat and her hat fell off. But she seemed to recover nicely to finish the routine, though the stumble did cost her some points with the judges.

Charity and Artem: I was a bit surprised Charity ended up in the bottom three but I think it might be the jolt she needs. The judges gave her some good critiques for her jazz routine to Janet Jackson's "All for You" but I don't know if she can achieve the one thing she needs to really elevate her performances - have an emotional connection rather than just focusing on being technically perfect. All the female pros spent time with her and had a brunch with her but I don't know if it's something you can teach. Paula talked about how Janet Jackson tapped into her inner power and channeled that, which is what Charity needs to do. I just don't know if she can.

Jason and Daniella: I don't know why Derek thought Jason's routine was more of a Week 1 or 2 dance. I thought it was great. One of the judges noted it was a proper jazz routine and I thought it felt like something that would be performed on Broadway. Jason and Daniella really captured the feel of "Take On Me" and still made it feel fresh and new. I think they should've been higher.

Alyson and Sasha: I think Charity needs to learn from Alyson. While Alyson isn't the most technical dancer, there is something about her ability to connect with the music that elevates them. I could tell she was having fun with her quickstep to Christina Aguilera's "Candyman" and she let that give her energy to tackle the dance. And it shone through in her performance, drawing people in. That's what Charity needs to tap into and channel to elevate her performances.

Barry and Peta: Barry's reaction to seeing Bruno in the video for Elton John's "I'm Still Standing" was priceless. I loved it. He also had a lot of fun with his quickstep, much like Peta. There were times where it didn't feel very "quick" but I'm not sure if that was due to the music or Barry. Because when he did step it up, he handled it well and made the routine shine. Either way, it was pretty fun to watch - especially when he got to shower Bruno with some glitter.

Harry and Rylee: Harry and Rylee were assigned to dance a jazz routine to NSYNC's "It's Gonna Be Me" so Lance Bass stopped by to give Harry some tips and to help with the choreography. During the routine, Harry was strongest when dancing the video choreography with Gleb and Alan but didn't carry that confidence over when he was dancing with Rylee. There's more to say about Harry but I'll wait for the team dances.

Now it's time for the team dances! Harry and Alyson were appointed the team captains. Harry chose Lele, Xochitl and Charity for his team and they were assigned Gangnam Style as their song. So they chose to name themselves Team Young 'N Style since everyone on the team were younger members of the competition. Meanwhile, Alyson's team included Jason, Ariana and Barry and they were assigned "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" for their song. So they decided to call themselves Team 4 Everybody.

Team Young 'N Style: This was a fun routine to watch. Everyone was in sync and rose to the challenge. I believe Lele and Brandon had the strongest solo portion and it just highlighted how much of a shame it was that they were eliminated. Derek noted afterwards that Harry is better in a group than solo and I have to agree. He was strongest when everyone danced together but was weak in his solo portion. Unfortunately, I don't think he and Rylee can just dance in a group until the end of the competition so he needs to figure out how to bring that to his solo routines.

Team 4 Everybody: It was another fun routine though maybe not as tight as Team Young 'N Style's. Jason, Alyson and Ariana had strong solo sections while Barry's was the weakest. But they clearly had a lot of fun together and I think Alyson really stepped up as the team captain. I also loved the end where they all switched partners and danced in same sex couples. And I loved how much of a Backstreet fan Ariana is that she nearly collapsed in tears when AJ McLean walked into the room to give them some pointers in rehearsal. Same, Ariana, same.

And Music Video Night is in the books. I wonder after a string of unexpected eliminations - Mira, Mauricio and now Lele - if the producers are considering bringing back the judges' save. Or maybe we'll go the entire season without it. Right now, I feel I could only understand Alyson possibly winning it all as she has been the most improved dancer in my opinion. But I guess we'll see what happens next time.

Speaking of next time, Billy Porter will be the guest judge as the remaining couples dance to the music of the one and only Whitney Huston. Can't wait to share my thoughts on those performances as well as the dance off!

See you then!

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - November 2022. Wow, lots of things happening this month so I didn’t get through all my reading as quickly as I usually do. Sorry for the delay. Here’s the next round of fic recs!

Something New Is Going to Happen by dragon_temeraire (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

Stiles accidentally discovers that their school mascot is super cute.

Kiss me if you must by raisesomehale (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

Derek is wrapping up the announcement on the Elves that have come into town when Stiles gets a text from Danny, asking where he is, and that if Stiles isn't there when his shift comes, he is passing any kiss induced diseases onto him.

OR

The one where Stiles has a shift at the kissing booth and everyone secretly wants his dick.

On Building an IKEA Den for an Alpha Werewolf. by orphan_account | podfic by  churkey (2/2 | 13K | Mature)

Senior Prom is coming up, and Stiles doesn't have a date. Additionally, Derek has an unfurnished apartment, and no one to take him to IKEA.

Wrong Number by greenleaf (1/1 | 9K | Teen)

Even wrong numbers can get it right sometimes.

...Or one where Stiles dials the wrong number and keeps forgetting to change it, while Derek ends up going along for the ride and sees Stiles four times before Stiles meets him.

It's In Our Lungs, Our Blood by xxjinchuurikixx (1/1 | 9K | Explicit)

“It’s… it’s amplifying urges. Primal urges influenced by thoughts my wolf has already had.” “So… so, do you want me? Did you… before?” “Yes, Stiles. Always.” “Then let me help.” * Derek gets hit by some sex pollen, and only Stiles can work it out of his system.

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Why the hell does it have to be a Dämonfeuer? by Winchesterek (1/1 | 916 | Teen)

Stiles is a Grimm hunting a dragon.

Scent Marking For Dummies by Hatteress (goddammitstacey) | podfic by sallysparrow017 (1/1 | 8K | Teen)

Stiles is almost used to being chased around the school by werewolves at this point. Having to share a bed with Derek freaking Hale, on the other hand, is just needlessly complicating his life.

Shelter by five_ht | podfic by chemm80 (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

After the rave, Stiles can't go home, and Derek doesn't want him to.

Wolfed In A Good Way by LadyDrace (1/1 | 2K | Explicit)

Stiles and Derek make out. Derek accidentally goes wolfy. Stiles is a HUGE fan of this.

princecharmingwinks special mention (Soft Derek kills me in the best way and the dialogue in this fic made me melt!)

Vodka happened by GreyHaven (1/1 | 6K | Teen)

5 times Stiles has no brain to mouth filter and turns into a malfunctioning octopus, and 1 time Derek does. Featuring drunk Stiles and pining Derek, a giggling fit, lurid blue vomit that costs Derek a car, a vodka incident and a kiss.

I’ve been listening to a few more podfics now (ensuring I also comment on the wonderful fics themselves as well!) so if I have listened instead of read, I’ve included both in the recommendation so everyone can take their pick.

[christinesficrecs]

Someone asked for Stiles courting Derek but I lost my way 🤷🏻‍♀️ so have some Stiles is the best boyfriend AND Derek deserves nice things.

I stopped believing in happy endings by otatop | 8.5K

Derek was prepared to have his heart broken for just one evening with Stiles. He knew what he was getting himself into

(He had no idea what he was getting himself into)

It's Always Been You, Dumbass by stilinskisparkles | 11K

“Alright, cool, we should go,” Stiles says breezily, dusting off his hands as he stands.

“We should?”

“Yeah!”

“But… Do you even care about photography?”

“Not as much as I should,” Stiles plants both his hands on the table, bracketing Derek in, “You’ll have to correct my miscreant ways.”

Full On Rainstorm by BarlowGirl | 10.5K | Explicit

He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.”

Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him.

He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.

Derek has to take a moment to sit down because yeah, he can’t deny it anymore.

He’s gone on Stiles.

Moved on from Whispers by wishingonalightningbolt | 5.3K | Explicit

He’s not dumb. Out of everyone in the school, Derek is second in grades only to Lydia Martin, and the only reason Stiles is third is because he’s taking more APs than Derek, so his grades are suffering the slightest bit. That’s why Derek knows, when Stiles arches an eyebrow at him, why what he said was so incredibly dumb.

Stiles didn’t break into Lydia Martin’s upstairs bathroom to take a piss. He broke into Lydia Martin’s upstairs bathroom while Derek was in it, because—because of reasons.

Shop Talk by aussiebee | 12.6K | Explicit

Deputy Derek meets Shopkeeper Stiles. Derek likes Stiles and Stiles likes Derek. There are puppies and flowers and an awesome Sheriff and an awesome Hale grandmother.

Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology by apocryphal | 19.7K

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch.

The war begins.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin | 15.1K

So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Kintsugi by artemis69 | 7.8K

Derek is too big, and strong, and a werewolf. He knows perfectly well what men are and aren’t allowed to be.

Stiles would beg to differ.

In which there are pretty boys, flowers, panties, glitter, and Stiles gives a heartfelt fuck you to the concept of toxic masculinity.

Here's My Hand if You'll Take It (I Can Be That Part of You) by Vendelin | 10.7K | Explicit

When Stiles is away at college, he realises that he’s in love with Derek. He also realises that he doesn’t exactly have the qualities an alpha needs in a mate. Boyfriend. Whatever. So he decides to change, with a little help from Martha Stewart. It’s just that Stiles isn’t all that great when it comes to tending to the betas, baking or cleaning. But maybe he doesn’t have to be.

big light by stilinskisparkles | 4.7K

Stiles brandishes a bunch of daisies at Derek, “Saw these and thought of you.”

Derek looks down at the gas station flowers, lifts his eyebrows, “Because they’re dried out and a little wilted?”

Chocolate & Pomegranates by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 9.6K

Derek has been an Omega for what feels like centuries. He is constantly hounded by Alphas and Betas who can't control their hormones. He's thankful for Laura defending his honor, but there is one person he's always dreamed of giving himself to.

Too bad Derek is certain Stiles doesn't know he exists.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 201

Not even gonna lie, I kinda gave up on the queue at this point. It seems like every time there is an update to the site, my scheduled posts vanish. So, instead, I brought my tablet and a mobile hotspot to work so I could post on time,

Got to do what you got to do, right?

Shout outs for this week go to @bogwalkr and @peachymis, both of whom have been going through chapters at a very impressive clip.

Thanks, as always, goes to @baelpenrose for his beta reading, and also @quantumizedinsanity, who is trying to help me get this huge thing cleaned up for AO3.

“Can I retire yet?” I groaned as I fell on my sofa.

Immediately, I levitated back to a standing position with a shriek when a disembodied voice responded. “You have four more months until then, Wisdom.”

One hand slammed into my sternum while the other braced against the nearest sturdy surface as I caught my breath. “Are… are you speaking to me again, Miys?”  Thankfully, I didn’t even have to remind myself to not get my hopes up, seeing as I was half panicking and half mad as hell.

“I have never declined to speak to you.”

Wincing at the literal nature of the response, I tried again. “I was under the impression that you were angry with me, specifically, and no longer fraternizing with the humans on board, in general.  This is definitely the first time in several months that you have voluntarily spoken to me unless I asked a direct question in an official capacity.”

“Technically, asking an empty room the remaining duration of your tenure in your current role with the Council is a question in an official capacity, and one which could be interpreted to be directed at me.”

Discretion was the better part of valor, and cowardice sufficed, so I agreed to let it drop. “I thought I had one Terran year after the establishment of the Colony?”

“A year which will largely consist of handing over your responsibilities and smoothing the transition, not any actual work.”

Shaking my head, I made my way to the console. “One adult beverage, hold the additional nutrients just this once,” I asked before continuing. “And I don’t know where you got the impression that handing over a job isn’t actual work.”

“I fail to see the laborious part of a transition in which you have been training your replacement options for the better part of a decade.”

“Oooo,” I drew out mischievously. “You really are talking to me again. And to what may I attribute this wondrous occasion?”

“I am simply responding to your inquiry and also attempting to report a malfunction within the computers that is preventing new information from being transmitted to the escort fleet.  The time stamps are updating, but the data transmissions are simply reporting data from the last fourteen ship days. It is also transmitting the data out of sequence. It is distressing.”

Surrrre it is, bud. I’d received more impassioned weather reports. Out loud, I assured them “I’ll have Derek take a look. I assume that is why you told me rather than Pranav or Alice?”

A buzzing hum betrayed their coming excuse. “I am not entirely certain that Derek is not the cause.”

I arched a brow at the ceiling and pursed my lips to one side. “It’s not like he’s going to lie about it. He’ll just refuse to fix it.”

“I still request that you belay any inquiry in that direction until I am certain.”  The response was rushed, which told me all I needed to know.

Miys had done it, and humans dinking around in the system were the scapegoat. “In that case, let me know when you’ve finished your investigation, and I will put the appropriate parties on it,” I caged.

“Duly noted. What will you do once you leave the Council?”

I twisted my neck into a very uncomfortable position, purely out of confusion. “I’m…. I’m not sure, Miys.”

“You may call me Noah, Wisdom.” There was a subsonic hum behind the normal buzz of their ‘casual’ tone.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do when I leave the Council, Noah,” I sighed, sitting on the couch again and dropping my head against the back. “I suck at glass blowing, at any constructive portions of agriculture, and my knitting is ugly at best.”

Another hum issued from the ceiling, and my heart twisted in hope for better times. “You show significant proficiency in combat medicine - a disturbing amount for a human with no record of enlistment, radicalism, or training.”

“Eyeah. We’re not going into medicine.”

“Your psychological profile is rather counter indicative. What about your aptitude in cultivating spores?”

I scowled softly. “Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than is necessary or healthy is not an aptitude.”

My drink spilled down my shirt when I heard Tyche’s voice drily intone “You would be surprised.”

“What the fuck!?” I shouted, brushing droplets off of me. “You called my sister?”

“I apologize, I did not.” A grinding noise I had never noticed before was added to their voice, and I wondered if it was a malfunction or an emotion I hadn’t identified yet. “I am unable to accurately produce the necessary level of emotional tone, and have established that Tyche’s tone is the one you are most responsive to in the regard to that emotion.”

Of fucking course. I rubbed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Hokay. Let’s run this back. You mentioned my proficiency in cultivating spores. I said ‘Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than necessary or healthy is not an aptitude’.”

“You would be surprised.”

“You want me to learn to grow fungi.” In context and less startled, I blinked several times. “Wait. Waitwait wait.”  Scrabbling, I bolted to set my drink in the console for a refill while I flicked my datapad open and started typing furiously. “Noah, I need you to send me all mycologists on the Ark. If you find them before I do, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“I do not eat Terran food.”

“But you do ingest composted matter, and I can get that. You can do whatever you do while we chat. We’ll have dinner. It works…” I trailed off as my search came up with one biologist with a focus in the topic and three with sub-specialties. “Okay, we do have mycologists…. That’s a good sign.” Granted, it wasn’t very many, but if I went that route I would have someone to show me the ropes.

“Cultivation of spores on hot planets is particularly difficult.”

“We have caves,” I waved off. “Networks and networks of caves. The humidity is excellent in subsurface formations warmed by geothermal springs.”

“If humans do not take up the space.” Was Miys wheedling? That sounded like wheedling.

“Most humans despise humidity unless there is a corresponding amount of airflow,” I assured them. “Else will be fine, I just need to figure out what their preferred diet is these days….”

“Yes, Else.” The confirmation was sharper than I was used to, but I shook my head and continued on with the new challenge.

“AH!” I barked. “Says here that eighty percent of Else’s current configuration subsists on high protein vegetable matter and - capsaicin. Whoops! Sorry about that, Noah.” It did no good to even pretend I was blameless in our resident fledgling species’ love of the spice.  Granted, I was maybe half of half of half of a percent responsible, but still. Culpability.

“Technically, bell peppers contain capsaicin, and I am quite all right with those.”

That made my brows furrow. “Noah, Else loves capsaicin, the higher the concentration the better. Bell peppers aren’t going to cut it.”

“I understand that the podlings prefer much spicier fare,” Noah conceded. “But it does cause me burns.”

Suddenly, their interest in my future vocation seemed a lot less like concern for Else. Very, very carefully, I ventured my next comment. “We have the areas of the Ark dedicated to cultivation of foods that may harm you designated as a biohazard.”

“This is correct.”

“And the bell peppers are not in there,” I pointed out. “They are in the same BioLabs as the lettuces so that they go into the same biowaste containers. Because we know you like them.”

“This is also correct.”

“Is someone growing spicy spice in those labs without our knowledge? In labs other than One and Five?”

“This is not accurate. No, Wisdom, they are not.”

I nodded slowly. “So you are suggesting that we cultivate the produce from BioLabs three, four, seven, and ten in locations on Von as far from the produce from Biolabs One and Five as possible?”

“That would be preferred.”

“And Biolab Six is safe to put near the spicier group?” Six was dedicated to simulated genetic sequencing on Terran livestock that was considered either unkosher or haram.

“Yes, Wisdom.”

I nodded again. “But not Nine.” Nine was the same aquaponics lab that Eino assisted in, the one that smelled like hell and cow farts.

“Certainly not Nine. Data indicates that the crops in Nine would work far better embedded in the crops from Four and Seven, specifically.”

“Hmm.” I raised my brows and stood to get another drink. Four and Seven held crops that were especially prone to rot and required a significant degree of climate control. Which made them a very odd choice to suggest they be grown near the aquaponic crops. Something was going on, that much I knew.  I couldn’t tell if it was help or sabotage. “Well then. A toast. To computer malfunctions, mycology, and… knowing what crops don’t mix well.”

“Indeed.”

I needed someone a bit more familiar with this, for sure. And I knew just where to start.

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