#poor derek trying to keep these two from burning themselves down

[masterwords]

two tickets to paradise (part two)

Summary: Derek takes Hotch on a much-needed vacation. (Post-Route 66)

Warnings: Alcohol & sex & insomnia // nsfw in places, not too graphic but it's there. proceed with caution.

Words: 3.2k

Notes: Two updates in one day? Yeah. There are no rules. And now we're to the sexy bits. Maybe expect more of that? Most of the stories I have planned take place during their stay here, but I wanted to get two chapters up quickly, so it feels like something happened. Excuse the poor editing job...this was primarily sprinted and posted quick and dirty. Apologies.

Read on AO3: two tickets to paradise

** CHAPTER LIST **

**

There was a parrot in the tree outside their balcony. It sat and blinked slowly, staring at Hotch as he wandered through the room at trusty old 3am. His back hurt. Probably from spending two days in airplanes and more hours in a bed than he was accustomed to over the span of months. He walked slow, bare feet padding quietly over cold tile, a hotel precaution to keep from having sand in carpet. He glanced at the microwave and frowned, he could use it, could heat up his trusty little pack, but that might wake Derek up and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

So he paced, back and forth, on the balcony. It was slow, each step unsure but determined. The chilly air ruffled his hair against his sweaty forehead. There were two chairs and a table between them, but sitting wasn't going to help him, not now. Back and forth he walked, trailing his hand along the stucco railing while the parrot watched him in silence. Water lapped against the sand, kissing it goodnight, and in the distance he could hear people talking and laughing and a strangely melodic guitar from somewhere down in the darkness painting the beach. Either they hadn't slept, or they were early risers...whatever they were, he considered them friends. A secret life lived between dusk and dawn.

4am came and went without relief. He watched the dawn streak the sky from somewhere far behind him, turning the leaves from black to green, the waves from navy to turquoise. His eyes burned for a sleep that taunted him. Just out of reach. Each time he thought he might try it, he would test out sitting and the ache was so deep and so intense he had to stand back up. The only relief came from walking.

One perk to being awake all night, wandering what felt like miles between one wall and the other, afraid to leave the room because it would absolutely wake Derek up if he opened that door was that he was starving by the time the breakfast buffet opened.

On a table full to the brim with fresh fruit in every color of the rainbow, a stalagmite of shot glasses stretched toward the ceiling. Beside it, a giant bottle of pure gold, Jose Cuervo. Hotch rolled his eyes while he filled a small plate with kiwi and pineapple and watermelon. Derek was staring, completely fixated on the jug of tequila.

“Tourists,” he scoffed, as if he wasn't staring just as hard as any of the college kids who would make their way in just before the buffet closed.

“You want one don't you?”

“Hell yeah I do. This is vacation.”

Before the last syllable was even out of his mouth he was jutting his hand forward, grabbing a shot glass off of the monstrous stack and practically vibrating with excitement. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together before reaching for the tequila and filling his glass to the brim. Not a drop spilled. Hotch was impressed.

Not for long, though. Next thing Hotch knew, Derek was grabbing his arm and pushing his Rolex up to expose the pale skin of his wrist. Hotch gulped. He'd been to college, it may have been a long time ago but he knew what happened next and he glanced around a little nervously, like someone might say something. There wasn't anyone to say anything, though, they had the place to themselves. Just the two of them and Jose.

Derek couldn't remember the last time he even attempted this trick, he and Hotch have been together so long now that his booze soaked clubbing days felt like glossy old film. As he kissed Hotch's wrist and sprinkled it with flaky bits of crusty salt, it occurred to him that he didn't know if Hotch had ever...

But Hotch's eyes were lit up with the fire of a recovered youthful memory and he knew. It was being unlocked slowly, a time before the Bureau, before the weight of the world settled on his shoulders.

“You and me,” Derek said with a grin, flicking his tongue out over Hotch's salty pulse before dumping the tequila down his throat, closely followed by a wedge of lime popped all the way into his mouth and sucked dry. The sour juice trickled down his chin and he grinned with the neon green rind covering his teeth like a child. Hotch couldn't help but smile.

It was always so easy with Derek.

He'd do anything for a good time, and Hotch can't help but follow. He needed to follow. His life was lived right on the edge of catastrophe while he focused so hard on simply looking put together. A suit and tie could cover any multitude of disasters. One hitched breath away from a heart attack, one wrong step away from total meltdown. But Derek always managed to pull him back to solid ground the minute he started to lose his footing.

Hotch ate more for breakfast than he had in as long as he could remember. A plate of fruit was a safe bet, a starting point, and while Derek followed each of his small plates of food with another shot of tequila, Hotch went back for eggs covered in hot sauce and fresh jalapenos. He had a handful of Tums in his pocket but they were, thus far, unnecessary. Dry toast, more fruit, even a slice of bacon before he was full. Derek watched it all with wonder in his eyes. “You weren't kidding when you said you were hungry...”

Hotch hummed, digging into his pocket for the pouch with his morning medications inside. He'd eaten enough, and happily, to take them without wondering how his body would handle them.

“Coffee?” A waitress asked, offering a tray full of small cups and he can't help but smile and nod delightedly. “From Oaxaca,” she pointed out proudly. He drank three cups, unable to say no each time they came around to refill his mug. He simply couldn't say no to good coffee, not ever. He might need to bring home a case of this stuff.

After breakfast, they hit the pool. Derek insisted on drowning Hotch in sunscreen. “You're too pale for this place,” he pointed out, slathering the thick pasty zinc goo all over Hotch's back. His skin was warm, already kissed by the sun, and he rolled his neck forward to let Derek get all the way up to his hairline and over the tops of his ears. He smudges a little on his nose for good measure before leaning in for a kiss. Hotch has lost count of how many times they've kissed just that morning. Derek was a little drunk already, and when he got drunk, he lost control of his ability to determine personal space.

He could go for this. It was nice.

They spent an hour in the pool before Hotch was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. He'd been nursing a sweet pink drink that Derek had insisted on while he watched Derek dive like a maniac from the high boards, slap the pool with cannon balls and belly flops to make the kids nearby laugh, flipping and rolling beneath the water like a dolphin. Derek was in his element. Only once did Hotch dive, after having had enough of Derek's shit talking to prove him wrong. “Betcha another shot that I have better form than you...”

“You're on.” That was it, and Hotch called on every single year of swim team he had under his belt and prayed that his back didn't give him too much trouble...just let him look good going in, he'd deal with the rest later. And it worked. Derek was impressed.

So impressed that he downed the rest of Hotch's drink for him and dragged him out of the pool and up to their room with a haste that Hotch wasn't used to. Barefoot, dripping water everywhere, Derek could barely contain himself. Their door was barely closed behind them before he was pressing Hotch up against it, crowding his way into Hotch's space, one palm flat against Hotch's heaving breast bone. “That was...” he whispered, leaning forward until he was maddeningly close and suddenly he had all the control in the world. Hotch was the one losing it.

Derek smiled. Hotch gasped, wet eyelashes fluttering closed for a second. Then two. Then he couldn't open them again and Derek's hand was sliding down inside his shorts achingly slow. Maddeningly slow. Touching him with the kind of control that he didn't often employ unless he was trying to drive Hotch mad. Hotch had beaten him on the diving board and this would be payback, agonizing teases. He could think of worse things.

“Where'd you learn that?” Derek gasped, pulling Hotch away from the door and over to the bed. He didn't want an answer, he just wanted Hotch on top of him now, hips grinding against his thigh, pinning his hands above his head, smiles and wet kisses and slick skin.

After that kind of work out, all Derek could think about was continuing the fun. “Let's get a massage,” he suggested, wiping the sweat from his head. Hotch hummed his disapproval, his eyes shut against the intruding afternoon sunlight.

“I'm going to take a nap. Have fun.” This freedom to just sleep knowing he had nothing else he should be doing was nice, he thought. After a sleepless night, he just needed a little refresher. “Wake me up this time, please.”

“If you're in another coma, not a chance.” He wasn't. He only slept for two hours and was groggy but awake by the time Derek came back from his massage with an arm full of pastries and coffee for an afternoon snack on the balcony. That was quickly becoming their thing. Derek's fingers were perfectly manicured, his toes the same, and he couldn't have been more relaxed if he tried. Hotch was sort of willing to try the club idea that Derek had floated over breakfast.

It was not his place, not even a little, but the music pulsed through him and in the dark he watched people move and slither and smile. Derek came alive here. Fully alive. And that made it worth the headache. His skin glistened with sweat and flickered with purple and blue and green strobe lights. He dragged Hotch out for the slower songs, pulled him close and spent his time grinding against him. Here they were anonymous, no one was going to say a word, no one knows who they are or what they do. The people here are used to sights far more shocking than two middle aged men enjoying themselves. Hotch didn't even think his imagination was capable of diving deep enough into the absurd to consider what the staff of this hotel has seen. If there was anywhere Hotch could let himself go, it was going to be here. And he tried. It doesn't come naturally but he did try. Derek's shirt came off, predictably...Hotch's would stay on but he'd have no less fun for it.

Another 3am wake up call, but this time he decided to slip out into the balmy night air and take a walk along the sand all by himself. Derek had consumed just enough tequila at the club not to wake when the door clicked shut behind him. He didn't have to walk far, , and the salty ocean air made him tired after a short time. Just him and the lullaby of the waves and the night creatures. With as much sand knocked off of his feet as he could manage, he crawled back into the bed and curled up beside Derek.

Asleep by the time 4am hit. Just like magic.

In the morning they said goodbye to Cancun, at least for a while. They'd be back to end their trip here. With what few bags they had, they loaded into a van and headed south to Sisal.

“The brochure?” Hotch asked, watching the scenery fly by at dizzying speeds on the narrow, winding road. He thought he had a reputation for being a gutsy driver, but he had nothing on this van.

“The brochure,” Derek nodded. “The things you're gonna want to do to me when you see our place for the next eight days...”

The waves crashing on the wide open shore rattled the walls of their little house on the beach. Stucco walls, a tiny porch and big open windows were all that stood between them and the expanse of the sea. There was no bedroom, just a sofa that converted to a bed in the front room. The curtains had long ago been ripped from where they'd been screwed and nailed into the walls repeatedly. Hotch thought the place looked a little run down, but Derek insisted that it was perfect.

In spite of the state of disrepair, he was inclined to agree. A tiny kitchen, an even tinier bathroom, and one big open room that gaped at the waves. They hadn't even bothered to put up pictures on the walls, no generic hotel painting could ever compare to the majesty that was right outside that window threatening to swallow the house whole.

And Hotch would love to gape at the beach, at the waves, but right then he was only thinking about the sofa bed. About tugging the metal frame out of hiding and dropping it to the floor with a thud. The mattress, thin but almost brand new, came next. He flopped it out quickly and threw a blanket down over it, he couldn't do it fast enough.

“You must really want...” Derek started, but Hotch shut him up with a fast and ferocious kiss. His hands cupped Derek's jaw, held him tight, eyes wide and hungry. He tested the limits of the bed frame by tipping backward, pulling Derek down on top of him in a heap. Slotting his thigh up between Derek's legs, he flicked his hips and smiled into the kisses. Derek had no more interest in talking it out, wondering about the state of the blanket's cleanliness, none of it. There was only Hotch beneath him, and soon rolling them over and perching on top of him. Unbuttoning his shorts, pulling his shirt over his head, diving in to get Derek's shirt off even faster. Fuck, Derek thought. It was so hot when Hotch was the one taking control. His hands settled on the soft curve of Hotch's sides, thumbs rubbing mindlessly at the edges of scars new and old, watching with awe while Hotch worked his hand down beneath the waistband and into Derek's drawstring pants. He'd fully embraced vacation style, Hotch wasn't quite there yet but Derek thought by the next morning Hotch would be raiding his stash of less formal outfits. He always brought just enough to share.

Either that or they'd both be walking around naked. It felt like that kind of place.

The wide window opened itself to him and his eyes lost focus over the expanse of crystal blue, seagulls and pelicans the only eyes that might catch them as they writhed against one another. Hotch ground his hips against Derek while his hand worked out of sight, and Derek let his hands slide the length of Hotch's thighs, up and down, wishing Hotch would give him just a little opening to get in there. He kept it sealed up tight with a coy smile, not willing to let Derek do anything more than twist and squirm beneath him. Teasing. Two could play that game.

Wordless, Derek finally reached his breaking point and grabbed Hotch by the thighs, hoisting him up until they were both standing and Hotch was against him. Hotch wasn't small by any means, but Derek could throw him around like a rag doll anytime he wanted and he loved reminding him of that. With a wolfish grin he turned and threw Hotch onto the mattress face down before mounting him from behind, straddling him, whispering something awful in his ear about his patience running out. He might love Hotch in control but he wasn't in any mood to be teased, he wanted it fast and he wanted it now. Hotch smiled into the mattress, buried his face as Derek reached around, hand pressed tight between the mattress and his prize, stroking and squeezing, hips flowing waves in time with the ocean and her currents.

Grabbing Hotch by the hair, he tugged his head back, pressed a flaming kiss to his lips and trailed down his neck to his bobbing adams apple and then the tease was done. Hotch was breathing fast, their hearts thundered in time, and Derek was ready to finish what Hotch started.

A seagull landed on the windowsill and watched as they finished, sweat slicked bodies already sun kissed after only a few days. It seemed unimpressed, giving them the side eye, almost berating them for putting on such a show and sullying the serenity of his beach. Derek bit Hotch's ear and whispered that he loved him while Hotch shuddered his own finish out beneath him into the blanket that had once been clean. A trip to the laundromat was in order, Derek figured, and it was entirely worth the trouble.

“Look,” Derek said softly, indicating the bird in the window. “We had an audience.”

Hotch hummed, the pulsing muscles in his back relaxing, turning to a puddle as Derek slid off of him and padded naked toward the back sliding door. Hotch lifted his head, watching the way Derek stood completely in the nude and staring out at the ocean from the crumbling little patio.

“Look!” Derek called, pointing. “A couple of surfers! Maybe they're staying close by!” He waved, and Hotch wondered if he remembered he wasn't wearing any clothes. He thought Derek probably knew exactly what he was doing. He envied the kind of freedom Derek oozed while he tied the blanket around his waist and made his way to the patio to take in the sight himself. Leaning there against Derek, both of them naked (or mostly so), he realized he wasn't thinking about Cruz anymore.

He wasn't really thinking about anything at all. He couldn't remember a single time in his life he'd felt like this. “Thank you,” he whispered and Derek grinned, swooping his shoulders and pulling him in to his side.

“Don't thank me yet...we've got a whole lot of this still ahead of us. Maybe it'll get better.”

Hotch didn't see how it could, but he was a patient man.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 55

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

Things have been out of whack in the real world for a bit, so I know I’ve gotten behind on things like updating the Master List for this story, and especially behind on posting it to Wattpad.  My goal for this week is to have all that sorted out by Friday, so keep your eyes open.

Parts of this chapter were inspired by a conversation I had with @baelpenrose. It’s always surprising what things in my life inspire parts of this story, especially the people.

Content warning: Someone yelling and throwing things. It’s a temper tantrum, and no one gets hurt, but just in case, I wanted to give a head’s up.

”Damn it all to HELL!”

I stopped in the middle of what I was telling my sister as we both whipped our heads toward the shout, which was quickly followed by a crash. We glanced back at each other, her wide-eyed expression a mirror of what I imagined my own face looked like.

That shout came from my quarters, with a suspiciously heavy Irish accent.

We dashed to my door, stopping to peer around the corner as slowly as possible. I wasn’t sure about Tyche, but I had seen Conor angry before.  It was rare, and it took a lot, but when it happened, it happened in a big way.   This time, even I was surprised by the sheer magnitude; as we watched, he shouted and threw things, subconsciously careful to avoid hitting any terrariums or people.  Even so, Zach Khan was dodging to hide behind whatever piece of furniture he could impose between himself and my enraged partner.

Taking a deep breath, I stood tall and squared my shoulders, gently pushing down my sister’s arm when she tried to stop me from confronting Conor.  Firmly, I knocked on the threshold of the wide-open entrance before striding in with more confidence than I currently felt.  “You could at least close the door,” I suggested airily, trying to get his attention.

As I hoped, he whirled around to face me, disheveled hair falling in his face. “Sophie,” he started trying to explain. “You could have gotten hurt.”

“Hello to you, too, sweetie,” I smiled before stretching on my tiptoes as he automatically leaned down to let me kiss his cheek.  “I waited until you were on the other side of the room, facing away.  But that doesn’t explain why you’re currently scaring Zach and Tyche.”

All anger gone at this point, he stepped around me and toward my sister.  He crouched and softened his voice like he was coaxing a scared kitten, which I reminded myself firmly not to laugh at. “Oh gods, Tych, love, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t hit you with anything, did I?” He whirled to face me, all color drained from his face. “Please tell me I didn’t hit you with anything?” he begged, hitting his knees.

“Zach, you can come out now. It’s over,” I called softly to the sofa, before walking over, wrapping my arms around Conor, and assure him I was fine. Really, all he had done was make a mess. “Maybe take up boxing,” I suggested softly, brushing his hair back out of his face. “It’s a much healthier outlet for your frustration.”

Tyche came in the room, tentatively at first, then more confident when she saw Conor’s face buried in my stomach.  She started to pick up debris from the floor, but was interrupted. “Put it down, woman,” the muffled admonishment came from my abdomen. “I made the mess, my job to clean it up.  That’s the rule.”

She sputtered in exasperation. “Then what can I do!?  This place is a mess, and my anxiety says to clean or do something to fix it,” she scolded at my back.

“How about some coffee,” I suggested with a chuckle, patting Conor on the shoulder in indication that he should get started with cleanup.

Once everyone got settled – including Zach with a cocoa, seeing as he was practically vibrating with anxiety – and Conor went about restoring order to our living space and apologizing to the plants, I asked, “Are you going to blow up again if I ask what you were so angry about?”

Conor dropped his hands to his side and tilted his head back to face the ceiling. “No, I won’t. And it was Huynh.”

Tyche growled ferociously before elbowing me. Oh.

That was me growling, not her.

He continued blithely. “The diving platforms are showing signs of rust damage.” Frustration was showing in his tone, but not anger. So far, so good. “Since I was head of the project, he is coming down on me hard. Trying to say I cut corners, didn’t coat everything properly, used the wrong materials, basically just bollocked the whole thing.”

“But you were the one who ordered one of the platforms taken out entirely because it was too close to the line for spec…”

“Hey,” he pointed at me firmly. “That thing would have been clearly out of spec if the temperature varied more than about twenty degrees.”

“It’s climate controlled, and that’s my point. You literally went with ‘better safe than sorry’ the entire time, and he got mad at you for wasting materials to meet the guidelines.”

“That’s my point!” he cried in frustration, flinging his arms wide and falling to his back with a thud that made me wince. “And now, he’s reversed course and accusing me of shoddy workmanship. I can’t win!  Even though Mav signed off that everything was dead level, on the nose within tolerance.”

“Wait,” Zach interjected, wrinkling his nose. “Why would Maverick sign off on that? He’s a pilot. That doesn’t make sense.”

Tyche snickered. “He’s a pilot when we need a pilot. Which is nearly never, so he’s more like an insurance policy there – better to have and not need than need and not have.  No, he’s quality control for any equipment in the research labs.”

“That’s just… what? Not tracking.”  Poor Zach looked like he was getting a headache.  I dropped another marshmallow in his cocoa, and he looked like I had answered his prayers. Ah, yes. Marshmallow makes sense in this crazy world.

“He has an insane eye for detail and is a completely arse about precision,” Conor’s tone was so fond it barely escaped being considered cooing.  He shook his head and glowered at the boot wedged under a piece of furniture. “Huynh is calling that nepotism, by the way.”

“But he’s even worse here!” I cried.  Tyche nodded vigorously, having been subjected to a two-hour rant when she put away a fork the wrong way.  Not in the wrong drawer, the wrong direction.

Maverick was permanently in charge of setting the table for every meal.  It was the only way to avoid killing him outright.

“Okay…” Zach trailed off, pinching his nose and vigorously wiggling his mug to beg for more chocolate salvation. “But the platforms are still rusting?”

“All three,” Conor confirmed.  “They’ve warped badly enough that we had to declare them unsafe until we can figure out the issue.”

“Wait. They rusted that badly in four months?” Tyche looked so confused it made my face hurt in sympathy.  “How is that even possible? Even if you didn’t take any measures to prevent rust, it shouldn’t be that advanced.”

“Grey is trying to figure that out. It’s also why Mav is stuck at work and not here for dinner.”

As much as I wanted to laugh at the – very manly – pout I was witnessing, I was also frustrated by the interruption in our routine.  Shaking my head, I tried to steer the conversation away from our errant pilot. “Is there a possibility that one of the lab’s experiments could have caused the issues?”

Conor shook his head before surveying the area for any more storm damage. “If that was the case, it would be so corrosive everything in the habitat would have died, and all the swimmers would be burned.  We would have known almost instantly.” He raked a hand through his hair, turning to face us. “But if anyone can figure it out, it’s Grey.”

“What I don’t understand,” Tyche ventured, “is that the materials were fabricated here on the Ark, right?  The facilities are obviously more advanced than anything we could have managed before.” She waved her hand at the ceiling for emphasis. “So, how could there be any flaws in the materials themselves?”

“The program still has to be written,” Zach groaned as he leaned forward. “You’re right about the system being more advanced, but that also means it’s incredibly finicky and precise. One character out of place, and everything used could be worthless. And before you ask,” he held up both hands defensively, “I personally checked the programming against what it should have been, and there are exactly zero errors. It’s literally the cleanest bit of programming I’ve ever seen.”

Conor nodded, heading to the kitchen for his own coffee. “And before anyone asks, we’ve had the calculations checked over by six different people, plus our mate Noah.  Calculations are accurate, they were programmed in accurately, and Grey’s people have tested to make sure the output is accurate.  Mav has already measured the samples with everything he could get his hands on, and they all show the amount of precision you would expect from an advanced civilization.  No fault to be found in the materials, whatsoever, which is where I come in.”

“Ugh. Huynh needs someone to blame, and since the materials are as perfect as you could ever dream of, he’s putting the fault in the construction?” I may have had my moments of grudging respect, but I never quite managed to like the bastard. Here he was, proving me right.

“Which puts me on furlough until they figure out what the cause is, yeah.” He huffed explosively and flopped down into the seat my sister vacated for him. “At least I can still work in the hydroponics lab.”

“No offense to you, Zach, but have you considered having Derek cross check the program?”

“None taken, and yes,” he sighed. “But he’s been holed up in his quarters for two weeks now, won’t talk to anyone.  I sent him several requests, but never got a response.”

Alarmed, I started to say something, but Tyche cut me off. “I already checked with Noah, and Derek’s okay.  Not sleeping well, but otherwise his physical health is fine.”

I stood anyway, frowning. “That’s good to hear, and I know he goes through periods where he can’t be around people, but two weeks?  It’s not like him.”  Snatching up my purple fuzzy blanket, I headed to the door. “Mac in your quarters?”

“Yeah, but Soph – “

“Nope.  I’m taking him the blanket and the cat.  If he wants to talk, he’ll talk, but at least this way I can see him with my own eyes. I won’t be long, I promise.  Zach, feel free to stay for dinner.  We’re doing pizza tonight.”  With that, I took off, focused on my mission.

It only took me about fifteen minutes to collect my furry co-conspirator and make it to Derek’s quarters. “Hey,” I called softly, praying he still had the outer microphone on. “I heard you’ve been taking some alone time, so I thought I would bring you the blanket and your buddy.  No clue how you managed two weeks without him, but Mac misses you – “

The door slid open, revealing a piled of blankets with a surly, squinting face poking out. The door is keyed to let him in, Derek said impatiently before stepping aside to let me in.

As soon as the door closed behind me, the blanket monster stomped past and dropped on the bed.  I was relieved that nothing about the room immediately screamed for help.  Low lights, white noise in the background, and about as tidy as I could expect from a seventeen-year-old.  Two arms thrust themselves from the heap of fabric on the bed, hands grasping in a gesture that needed no working knowledge of sign language to understand.  Obediently, I handed over the soft purple offering in my hands.  Meanwhile, Mac dropped gracefully next to Derek with a demanding yowl.

“He likes to be invited,” I explained gently.  It was taking every ounce of willpower – and some I was pretty sure I didn’t possess – to keep myself from interrogating him on the length of his isolation.  Instead, I watched him rub my blanket against his face with one hand while the other tugged the large black cat onto his lap and started stroking it.  Despite token resistance, Mac quickly settled in for what was likely long-overdue and well-deserved attention.

I waited a few seconds, in case Derek wanted to talk, then cleared my throat. “Well… let me know if you need me to bring you anything else, okay?  And remember, cheese will make Mac sick, no matter how much he likes it.”  Quietly, I left with clenched teeth and eyes burning from tears I refused to shed.  I was trying to break my habit of smothering people, but it was hard.  Logically, I knew Derek could take care of himself – superficially, he had been doing fine.  But the fact that every blanket he seemed to own was layered over him, even just to answer the door?  He needed comfort, clearly.  Being incredibly touch-averse, I had to restrain my urge to hug him and let Mac and the blankets do the work.

Halfway back to my quarters, my databand chirped.  With a flick, I displayed the screen to see a message from him. “Not sleeping well. Nightmares.  They make me jumpy.  Mac will help.”

The corner of my mouth quirked up, despite my heart wanting to break. “He’s good for that,” I replied. “He eats nightmares, I think.”

“I’m not a child, I don’t need silly stories.”

I scoffed. “I know that. I’m being serious.  I never have nightmares when he’s around, and he always makes that face like he just ate when I wake up. Either he’s figured out how to work a console or he eats bad dreams.”

“I’ll lock down my console and let you know.”

With a deep breath, I told myself Derek would be okay and strolled back into my quarters.  Zach, Tyche, and Conor were in the kitchen, laughing and working on getting the pizza dough going.  It panged my heart not to see Maverick, but a part of me hoped that he would still manage to make it home in time to eat with us.

I’ll make an anchovy pizza, just in case, I told myself.

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[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @vyxynheartssterek!

Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy :)

Read on AO3

*****

Soulmates and Coffee

Beacon Hills, it seemed, hadn’t changed at all. It took Derek twenty minutes to make it from the airport to the town limit. He watched as the buildings of the bustling city merged seamlessly into trees; their long shadows cast against the road from the occasional streetlight.

If he tried hard enough, he could smell the familiar scent of home through the dirty air filter of the rental car.

The car lurched as it hit the first pothole.

Derek smiled at the familiarity. He could still hear his mother cursing up a storm when she had hit the same one and got a flat tire. He and Laura had been stranded in the back seat with nothing but a yo-yo to keep themselves amused as she tried to figure out how to put on the spare.

No matter how many times the darn pothole was paved, it came back each year with a vengeance and had become an unfortunate landmark amongst the Beacon Hill community.

He merged onto the main street.

It was still dark this early in the early morning. The redeye flight had been the only one available on short notice. His eyes burned, but the thrill of home kept him going.

It’d been a long time since he last drove these streets. Four years at a university in New York with mainly phone calls and Skype to keep in contact with his family. Of course, they all came out to see him graduate last spring, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Laura had stayed with him for a couple weeks a few years back. He had showed her around the city, taken her to all his favorite places, and even some that weren’t his favorites but that he thought she’d enjoy. She liked the city in a distant sort of way, saying that it was pretty but not for her, and that she was needed back home.

He flexed his fingers around the unfamiliar wheel of the car.

Laura’s trip was the first time he’d heard about their new emissary, Stiles. She told him he was nice, and friendly with a mischievous streak a mile wide that kept everyone on their toes. She was supposed to spend time with him since she was to be the next alpha. She needed to trust him and his judgement, and he her.

He was looking forward to meeting this new person. Having been born and raised out here he felt like he knew everyone, at least in passing. But the name Stiles didn’t ring any bells. And no one in his family elaborated on who exactly he was.

He smiled, gently weaving between a string of potholes, proud of himself for remembering where they were. Maybe he could save a little bit of damage to the poor car.

The clock on the dash flicked to the hour. 4am.

He tapped his thumbs against the wheel.

The pack wouldn’t be awake yet. Even Peter wouldn’t be up for another hour. But, he supposed, that just meant he’d have time to unpack in peace before getting ambushed with attention. Cora was convinced he was bringing her something back from New York.

He smiled, imagining her face when she opened the bag containing a T-shirt stating that someone who loved her went to New York and only brought back “this shirt”.

He passed the high school on his right. It looked the same, yet off at the same time. He squinted for just a second longer as he placed the oddity; the building had been extended. He could see the off color brick where the new portion started.

Just past the school, a building complex came into view. This one hadn’t been there when he was here last. He frowned, trying to make out which signs were posted above the doors when the car lurched.

Derek swore, gripping the wheel and jerking it to keep the car straight.

The steady thumping of a flat tire filled the air.

He slapped the hazzards, pulling into the parking lot of the complex he’d been examining.

The cruel irony made him grimace. He sat, listening to the hum of the engine and the chirping of crickets. He’d have to put on the spare.

He tugged the key from the ignition and brushed his thumb across the soulmark on his left wrist. It was a habit he’d developed when the mark appeared, a romantic at heart, the slight touch calmed him, reminding him that someone special was out there, somewhere. It was a couple shades lighter than his skin tone, the triple spirals he knew represented him were tucked inside an explosion of lines, each one fanning outward in a different direction. He used to call it a firework.

The mark had appeared when he was sixteen, like it did almost everyone else in the world, and he would be blatantly lying if he ever said he hadn’t hoped of meeting his soulmate in New York. Beacon Hills seemed like too small of a place to meet anyone that significant, and a part of him believed by moving to a bigger city the chances of running into them were greater. But here now, nearly ten years later, he still hadn’t met them. Which was fine, he supposed, some people didn’t meet their soulmates until they were older. His mom was in her thirties when she met hers.

He opened the car door, stepping out into the cold air. Whoever his soulmate was probably wasn’t out at this hour anyway and he wanted to get home.

He walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk, levering out his rolling suitcase so he could access the compartment that held the spare. He lifted the flap, and stared into the empty space.

The jack was where it should be, tucked away in the crevice that looked designed to hold it, the tool to loosen the bolts was also there, and even some reflective cones. But there was no tire.

He sighed and tugged his phone from his pocket. He didn’t want to wake anyone up, he’d specifically told them all that he was familiar with the area and was more than capable of driving himself home. He glared at the back tire.

With only a second’s hesitation, he called Peter. He frowned as the phone continued to ring. More than likely Peter had his phone on Do Not Disturb. Even the gentle vibration of phones would wake any of them up, but Peter was usually up before sunrise anyway and would get the message soon enough. If he were desperate, he could always walk.

The phone kicked him to voicemail, Peter’s voice told him to leave a message if it was something that couldn’t be sent through text.

He smiled. “Hey, Uncle Peter. I hit one of the potholes on Main and apparently a spare tire is extra in the car rental industry.” He chuckled. “But, uh, yeah, I’m in the parking lot outside-” he squinted at the closest sign on the building. “Merry Meet Coffee and Tea, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up when you wake up, that’d be great. Thank you!”

He hung up and looked back at the sign. Merry Meet Coffee and Tea was new, and the blue and red neon sign proclaimed they were open. Sitting inside and drinking coffee sure beat sitting in the car for an hour.

He loaded his luggage back into the trunk and shut it, then began his way across the lot.

A bell tied to the inside handle jingled when he pushed the door open.

The cafe was simple with a woodsy feel. Wooden tables sat scattered throughout the room, their legs twisting and reaching out and down to the floor like tree roots. The tall back chairs were styled similarly. Plants hung from holders on the ceiling, and a few paintings of forest scenery decorated the walls.

It was a fitting theme for Beacon Hills.

A short haired young man looked up from a stack of books at a corner table. His brow twitched just slightly as he tried to orientate himself back to his surroundings, having been yanked from his thoughts at Derek’s entry.

“Hello,” he greeted from habit. Then his expression lightened and he smiled, rising from his seat. “What can I get for you?” He left his books on the table, careful to check the page number of the book he was on before closing it.

Derek watched as he made his way around the counter and over to the register. He could now see the small logo of a tree and the name of the shop embroidered on the chest of his shirt.

“Just a cup of black coffee, please.” Derek smiled, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He handed over his debit card and looked around again. “This is a nice shop, it wasn’t here last time I was in town.”

“It’s my mom’s, I help her out sometimes and come in early.” The young man swiped his card, then looked back at him. “Where are you from?”

“Here.” Derek smiled, watching the way the man’s eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to place who Derek was. “I was born and raised here, but I’ve been studying in New York for the last four years. I’m Derek Hale.”

The man’s eyes widened sightly in surprise, then a smile lit his face. “I can see that now. I knew you back in grade school.”

Now it was Derek’s turn to frown; grade school had been a long time ago.

The grin slowly widened across his face. “Back then I went by Mischief.”

“Scott’s friend!” Derek announced, sudden memories of the two boys hanging out with Cora coming back to him. They had come to a few of her birthday parties, and if he remembered correctly, had been suspended together at some point for disrupting class with a prank on April Fools Day.

“That’s me,” Mischief grinned, reaching down to grab a cup.

“How’s your mom doing?” Derek asked, stepping down the length of the counter out of habit; it wasn’t like there was anyone behind him.

“She’s great! She’ll actually be in shortly, I have a class that starts at seven.” He grabbed the carafe and filled the cup. “She’s excited to see you again. The whole pack’s excited you’re home.”

Derek nodded. “I’m excited to be home.”

Claudia had been Talia’s emissary since before he was born; the two had been childhood friends growing up and once Claudia came into her spark it seemed only natural for her to take the roll.

Mischief held the cup out to him.

Derek took it, then jolted back when their fingers brushed, a shock reverberating through his soul, causing all the hair on his arms to stand on end. There, on his outstretched wrist, his soulmark flared silver.

Mischief leapt back as well, gripping his left wrist in shock.

They stared at each other over the spilled coffee.

“Well,” Mischief said softly, eyes still wide, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.” He uncurled his fingers, twisting his wrist to see his soulmark.

It was the same triple spiral and firework that marked Derek’s own skin.

“Same,” Derek nodded. He righted the cup that had fallen and tipped when they’d jerked back, and looked around, scanning the room for napkins.

“I got it,” Mischief said.

Derek looked back at him in time to see him raise his hands. The spilled coffee shifted, beading into hundreds of droplets, and rising into the air. He watched as they hovered across the counter to a sink and splashed inside.

“You’re magic?” Derek asked, belatedly chastizing himself; what else could that have been? A stage trick?

“A spark.” Mischief swiped the cup off the table and into the trash, reaching for a fresh one. “Like my mom. The class I’m going to later is about control, hopefully I’ll be learning more complex spells soon, but magic is tricky.” He poured Derek a cup and reached for another for himself. “It’s like magic has a mind of its own, that’s why it takes so long to learn.”

Derek nodded. “My family just took on a new emissary, he’s supposed to be Laura’s emissary when she becomes alpha. Magic is a lot of responsibility.”

Stiles stilled, his head tilting just slightly as he set the kuraff back. “Do you know who it is?”

“No.” Derek took a tentative sip of the drink, wincing when it burned his tongue. It was good, it made the airport coffee taste like swamp water. “I didn’t recognize his name, and I’m pretty sure I know everyone in Beacon Hills. He probably moved here recently.”

Mischief chuckled. “What’s his name?” He stepped out from behind the counter, motioning Derek over to his table of books.

“Stiles. Do you know him?”

Mischief’s eyes gleamed. “I’d like to think I do.”

“You’re close then?” Derek asked, ready to seize the moment and ask about what his family’s new emissary was like.

“Oh yeah.” Mischief stacked his books and placed them on the table behind them. “Scott and Cora are friends with him.”

“What’s he like?”

Mischief hummed. “I think he’s pretty smart, and clever. According to Laura sometimes sarcastic.” He sipped his coffee. “You planning on staying in town just long enough to meet him?”

Derek shook his head, running his thumb along the leaf pattern on the cup. “I’m home for good now. Living out there was a good experience, but I’d like to be home for a little while now.”

Mischief nodded, setting his cup down. “I’ve thought about traveling.”

Derek looked up quickly. He wouldn’t dare ask his soulmate to not pursue his dreams, but the thought of him leaving soon after meeting stung. He wanted a chance to get to know him. He made sure to keep his voice even when he asked, “Why don’t you?”

“I’ve got a lot of things going on here. Someday I’ll travel, but for now I’m happy learning magic here.” He smiled, flashing just a hint of teeth.

Derek relaxed, relief flooding him, quickly followed by guilt at his reaction. If Mischief wanted to travel, he could damn well travel. Maybe Derek could even go with him.

The jingle of the bell made both of them look up.

A lady walked in, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hi Mom,” Mischief said, then motioned at Derek. “Derek’s back.”

Claudia’s eyes lit up, a smile creasing her face. She stepped up to the table, wrapping Derek into a warm hug. “Welcome home.” She released him and turned to Mischief, hugging him as well. When she was done, she looked back at Derek. “You’re mom invited Stiles and I over for a pack dinner tonight, but if you don’t feel up to it let us know and we can do it another night.”

Derek nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a nap, I just had an incident with the rental car and that slowed me down getting home.” He smiled. “It’ll be nice to meet him.”

Claudia frowned, casting a glance at Mischief, who looked up at her with total innocence.

“Would you mind if Mischief came as well?” He turned his wrist over to expose the soulmark. “I’d like to catch up with him.”

Surprise flooded Claudia’s face, quickly replaced by a grin. “Congratulations.” She looked at Mischief, her expression dropping into a scowl. “And you should have told him.”

“Told me what?” Derek asked, glancing between them in confusion.

Mischief wilted under her look. He looked up at Derek, smiling slowly. “I go by Stiles now.”

“You’re Laura’s emissary?” Derek blurted.

Mischief- no, Stiles held his hands out. “Surprise?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply when the bell jingled again, and Peter stepped into the cafe. His button up shirt and slacks made it look like he was on his way to a meeting rather than to rescue his nephew from a flat tire.

“You said you could get from the airport to home without incident.” Peter frowned only half-jokingly as he crossed the room to their table.

“On any normal day, I can. I’ve had a long night, Uncle Peter, just take me home please.” Derek shook his head slowly.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, concern rising in his tone.

“Of course.” Derek shrugged. “I hit one of the legion of potholes on Main, reconnected with a friend of Cora’s only to find out he’s my soulmate and Laura’s emissary, and now you’re being all Peter. But I’m good.” He smiled, trying to joke back, but his muscles were aching and tired; the sun was now creeping through the windows and he didn’t even want to look at a clock in case it confirmed he’d been awake for over twenty four hours. He needed sleep.

“Go get some rest, I’ll see you at dinner.” Stiles rose, holding out a hand to him.

Derek stood, taking it in his own. “Looking forward to it… Mischief.” He winked and sauntered past Peter; he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be bored anytime soon.

[kaiswitch]

Teen Wolf Imagine

Hey guys! I post these imagines in my Wattpad page as well! So if you see something similar, just understand that it’s me!

My Wattpad is: kaiswitch

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Derek #1 - A look from the past

Part 1

Y/N POV

Finally got home from work and I was doing some quick chores around the house. I took out the trash and right before I’d go inside, I see what seemed like Derek Hale. But… Derek from high school. As in a 17 year old Derek Hale. How’s that possible!? He’s got to be at least 26 or 27 by now and looking different. I mean I even saw him a few months ago. HOW WAS IT THAT I JUST SAW 17 YEAR OLD DEREK HALE FROM HIGH SCHOOL NEXT DOORS WITH ANOTHER TEENAGER? The boy was the Sherriff’s son. Stiles, I believe he was called? Anyways, I have never been this confused in my life.

Though I got to admit. I know Derek Hale is some sort of a werewolf. We weren’t close in high school, just classmates, but he used to play basketball, and my brother played with him. I went to the boys lockers, during on the games, in hopes to find him but instead I ran into a glowing eyes, fangs and claws Derek. He was holding onto the sink, whispering “Control it. Control it. Alpha, beta, omega. Alpha, beta, omega.” And he kept repeating it till he went back to his own self. He didn’t notice me. I walked off, thinking about what I had just saw. That night I did some research, and I found out that he was a werewolf. He was secretive at times, and I wondered why. When I saw him in that state, I understood why. I never confronted him about it, because it wasn’t any of my business. If he didn’t want to tell anyone, there was a reason why. So why go after him and intrude his life?

In the morning after I saw young Derek with Stiles next doors, I was about to go to my car to go to work, when I saw them two get out of the house again. Young Derek again. So my eyes weren’t playing tricks last night. I had seen young Derek. With all the confidence I had, I went up to these two teenagers and had to ask them. I knew he was a werewolf. If they told me time travel or werewolves can turn themselves young, at this point I’d believe it.

“Hi. Stiles?” Stiles turned his head to me as I walked up to them.

“Stacey. Hi! What’s up?”

How the hell do I ask him? How do I confront someone about the supernatural? “Is that Derek?” Stiles’ eyes went wide open. Shocked that I’d know him.

“How do you know me?” Derek walked up to me.

“We went to highschool together. We even graduated together. I’m Stacey Halls. One of your classmates.”

“Stacey?” He looked at me up and down. Practically checking me out. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah. My question is how the hell did you turn young? I saw you a few months ago with a beard and all buff and well.. 10 years older.” Both of them looked at me unsure of what to say. “Look. I know you’re a werewolf. So whatever it is you tell me, I’ll probably believe you.”

“How did you know?!” Derek and Stiles spoke at the same time.

“When we were in high school, before a basketball, I caught you in the boys locker shifting and turn back to normal by repeating this idiom I’m assuming, ‘Alpha, beta, omega.’ I didn’t confront you about it cause well… it wasn’t any of my business.”

“Well.. Wow. First off. And second. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him either. Derek was practically kidnapped and magically or ritually turned back to his young self.” Stiles explained, not sure if he could trust me.

“You can trust me. I won’t tell. But damn. Sorry. Is there anyway I can help?” I felt bad. Why would someone do that? And for what reason for that matter.

“For the moment, just keep the secret. We don’t even know what to do.” Stiles said shrugging. I nodded understanding.

“Well, please do call me. I’d like to help. Any way I can.” I smiled giving them my number.

“Thanks.” Stiles pressed his lips together feeling possibly awkward.

“You’re welcome.” I started walking back to my car.

“Stacey!” I turned to see Derek walking towards me. “Thank you. For not telling anyone.” He smiled.

“No problem. Like said, it’s not my secret. It’s yours. You don’t want to tell anyone. I respect that.” I smiled back. It was weird interacting with Derek when during high school, it’d be mostly in class having group projects, but other than that, nothing.

“I’ll let you go. See ya.”

“See ya.”

Part 2

A few days had past since I last saw them. I was sitting my on my couch, relaxing from a long day at work. When I get a phone call from an unknown number. I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! It’s Stiles. We actually need your help.”

I smiled big. I felt so useful. “What is it?”

“Could you come over my house? My group of people who are trying to save Derek are over too trying to figure something out.”

“Sure I’ll be there in a minute.”

I looked just fine. In jeans and a plaid shirt. I walked over their house. I knocked and Stiles opened, welcoming me in.

There were a group of teenagers. Oh great. “Hi.” I waved trying to be polite.

Stiles walked next to me and introduced me to everyone. Two of them were werewolves. And alpha and his beta. A Banshee, a coyote and fox? and Stiles, the human. “You know? I’ve lived in this town my whole life and wouldn’t expect for so much supernatural to be happening, let alone right next doors.” They laughed. “What is it?”

“Well… I don’t know where to start. Tell us what you know about Kate Argent.”

My blood fueled. “A bitch. A manipulative bitch. And scary as shit. She was always into guns and killing. I heard she was into hunting. Now what was she hunting I don’t know. Anyways. I heard that she and Derek went out for a while. I’d see them around quite often. After a while, Derek’s house, sadly along with his family, were burned. Instead of being a good girlfriend and be there for him, she seemed far too happy and looked like she had triumphed something, whilst Derek practically depressed. So I don’t know what that was all about. Why do you ask?”

“She burned their house. She is indeed a manipulative bitch. She knew he was a werewolf along with his family and burned the house to kill them. His sister, uncle and himself survived. Kate is part of family of hunters. Werewolf or beast hunters. But Kate broke their code. They would only hunt the ones who would hurt humans. But Derek’s family hadn’t done anything.” Scott, I believe his name was, explained. “Yeah. Manipulative bitch. Poor Derek.” I thought. “But what does have to do with young Derek? I heard Kate died.” I asked confused.

“Well… She’s not dead. She accidently turned into a werejaguar.” Stiles said slowly. My eyes wide open. What?? “And she doesn’t have control of her shift.” He said getting quieter with each word spoken.

“Then that means she’s after him? Wait! Was she the one who turned him young?”

“Yeah. Smart chick.” Liam nodded proudly that I figured it out.

“First of all, don’t call me chick. I’m much older than you.” Liam blushed hard. “Second, why is she after him now? Why turn him young?”

“When she turned him young, she kind of erased any memories as an adult. And the memory of the fire. That way we’re assuming he can trust her again. We think that she’s trying to have him help her control her shift.”

“I see.” I was trying to process this all. I mean all this is thrown at me and I have no clue about the supernatural and mythological creatures. Then it hit me. “When I saw Derek, years ago, be able to control his shift with that phrase he used, he was also holding onto something. It looked like a circular object. Wooden possibly. It had spirals but I couldn’t see it clearly cause he was holding it. Do you know what that might be?”

“The triskelion?” Scott thought outloud.

“I guess? I don’t know. But what if that’s what helped Derek and now she wants that too?”

“It makes sense. Brilliant. But I gotta admit something. I haven’t seen Derek hold that thing like ever. He has very much control over his shift, so he wouldn’t need it.” “Then where would he keep it?”

“The vault.” A man from behind me said, which startled me. A Hale. I could tell by their eyes.

“You’re the uncle, aren’t you?”

“How could you tell?” He frowned his eyebrows.

“The eyes.” I shrugged.

“Wait. There’s a vault?” Scott asked.

“Yeah. And that’s where we’ve kept that ‘object’.” The man mocked me.

“Then that’s where would be.” Scott said. I guess that was a queue for everyone to go to that vault. I was all excited to be quite honest with you and so I decided to follow them.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come.” Scott politely told me.

“I’d like to help.Plus, I’m curious. And I think I can handle myself against another woman my age, hopefully she’s in her human form.”

“She’s much stronger now that she’s a werejaguar, even in her human form.”

“I don’t care. Maybe I can help with Derek. Have him trust me not her. Maybe say something that could change his mind but without bringing up the horrible memories. Please. Let me help.” It wasn’t even a plead. I was practically demanding this teenager for me to come with them.

“Fine.” He nodded. We all got into cars and drove to where Peter, which Lydia told me his name was, told us the vault was. Surprisingly, it was under school grounds. Smart but stupid at the same time.

“Why is it a bad thing that Kate is asking Derek for help to control her shift? That means she trusts him. But she didn’t want the memories to stop Derek from helping her. That’s why I’m assuming she turned him young and erased his memories. So he can trust her and help her.”

“I see where you coming from, but she’s not that naive. I have a feeling she a different plan in mind.” Peter said.

“Why would you say that?” Stiles said.

“She’s Kate. I still don’t trust her after burning my family.”

“Yeah, but it’s your fault she’s a werejaguar!” Stiles retorted.

Peter let out a growl. “Yeah. I’m the bad guy here.” I was so confused.

Part 3

When we arrived, Peter says the vault is open and goes to it.

“The berserkers are here.” Malia whispered almost as if trying to sniff them. Wolfs. I mean coyotes. Oh whatever.

“The what?” I asked confused. I saw Scott looking behind me.

“RUN!” He yelled at me. I turned around to see these giants, well.. compared to me, covered in animal skin and bones? Was that a skull they were wearing? Ew. They looked human on the underneath. I started running just as I was told. I was ran up the stairs of the school when I faced another one coming from the corner. He looked like he about to charge at me. I ran to him too and slid on my knees in between this monster’s legs giving me the chance to run away before he turned around. Just as I took a turn, I bumped into Kira.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her as if she was insane to try and go after that creature. She took out her belt and turned into sword. Like ninja sword. What the hell?

“We need to fight them.” She ran back to where I came from and I followed her.

All I saw was Malia hurt bad on the leg. She couldn’t even stand. And Scott trying to fight them. In his werewolf form. And Kira fighting too. But they both fell, as these beasts were too strong. I saw the sword that fell from Kira’s hands as she fell.

I thought of this stupid idea that I might regret later. I took the sword and charged at one of these monsters. I stabbed one of them. He yelled in pain. I pulled back, thinking I had killed him, but nope. He looks at me as if he was trying to recover from the stab, and punched me across my face, basically throwing me against the lockers, falling onto the ground like the others.

My vision was blurry, but I still could tell what was going on. I heard Scott hawl and young Derek jumping out of nowhere. He fought them with such ease. They retreated. Then when Derek turned to face us, he wasn’t young anymore. He was Derek. The current Derek. His eyes glowing yellow, with claws and fangs. How? Did? That? Happen? I already give up on this supernatural world.

“Stacey?” He looked at me shocked, slowly turning back to his human form. He helped me up.

“In the flash.”

“What is she doing here?” Derek looked at Scott like he was about to kill him.

“She was able to help with Kate. What she wanted and why. Which led us to the vault.” Scott answered. Not afraid of Derek at all.

“You, what?” Derek looked more confused than ever.

“Long story.” I said not really in the mood to explain myself. “What matters is that we are all alright. Right?” I said. And they all nodded.

As we were all leaving, Scott helping Malia up, Derek turned to me. We were close. Jesus, he was more gorgeous up close. “You ok?” He asked concerned.

“With the pounding headache caused by a ber-something? Or by the fact that creatures have been living all around me and I was completely blinded by them?” He chuckled.

“Both.” He smiled. He was so sweet.

“Well. I might have a concussion. It will go away. And your supernatural secrets? Yeah. At this point, you can tell me there such thing as a half human half lizard and I’d believe you.” I laughed.

“Actually…”

“Oh God! There is, isn’t there?!” I somewhat shouted dumbfounded.

He laughed. He grabbed my waist and brought me extremely close, making me place my hands on his chest. A very firm chest might I add. My breathing quickened a bit. “You’ll get used it.”

“What’s that suppose to mean? How do you know I won’t run away to another city?” I raised my eyebrow.

“You won’t. You helped and I saw you try to fight the berserkers. Someone who wants to help, doesn’t exactly want to run way.”

“Damn it Hale. You’re right.” We laughed. “Come on. I think they’re waiting for us.” As I was about break off from his hold, he placed his lips on me. Holy God! I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back. We parted lips and just looked at each other’s eyes. “Why?” That’s all that came out of my mouth.

“Why not?” He answered smirking.

Yeah, I’m definitely sticking around.

[fear-frost]

Perfect Moment by @fear-frost 

Written as a gift for @idleafterthoughts as part of the Sterek Secret Santa gift exchange!

Rated T

“Can I get a sitrep?” Stiles nearly yelled against the phone, his face pressed as close to Derek’s back as possible while Derek’s Harley tore down a back-country road just south of the Preserve.

“Oh my god, Batman! We’re not FBI agents.” Erica shouted back, her voice tinny against the rushing wind.  

A chunk of Stiles’ hair lashed his eye and he pulled the phone away from his ear to brush it back, keeping one arm securely wrapped around Derek’s middle. His hair was the longest it had ever been, falling to just below his ears, and while Derek had said he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Stiles knew he liked it if the way the wolf constantly had his hands in it was any indication.

“Stiles!” Erica’s voice came through the speaker and he shoved the phone back to his ear and hunkered down behind Derek again.

“I’m here. Do you even know what kind of creature it is?”

The rustling on the other end intensified then Allison’s voice filtered into his ear. “I can’t believe you guys really called them! Stiles, it’s just a troll. We’ve got this. You guys go enjoy your date.”

Derek started shaking his head before Allison even finished her sentence.

“Nope,” Stiles sighed. “We’re already almost there so we’ll see you in a few minutes. I mean, who doesn’t want to go troll wrangling on their anniversary?”

***

Allison had been right. It was a troll, but not just any troll.

“I’m going to have to check the wards around the enclosure,” Stiles said, pointing to a spot on the map they’d laid over the trunk of Allison’s car where she’d parked to the side of one of the Preserve’s many access roads. “If she’s the only one that’s gotten out then maybe I can get the wards back in place before any of the others realize they’re down.”

           Derek was standing on Stiles’ other side, arms crossed, and looked up sharply when a howl filtered through the trees. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott were already out herding the wayward troll back to safety.

Over the years, the nemeton had never stopped being a beacon for supernatural creatures. Some of the human ones, like Parrish, had integrated themselves into the regular society of Beacon Hills. All the rest had either been driven out by the pack when they proved a threat or if the creatures were like their errant troll, the pack led them to the enclosure Stiles and Deaton had created with wards deep in the Preserve. It allowed the creatures to live in peace near the energy from the nemeton they craved.  

               “They’ve got her between them,” Derek said, eyes narrowed and head cocked, listening to things he and Allison had no chance of hearing with their human ears. “But she’s trying to move towards town. I need to go help them.”

           “Go. Ally and I will head to the enclosure and fix the wards.”

           “Call your Dad. Have him and Parrish on standby just in case. Ally, call Chris too?”

“I’m on it,” Allison said, turning away and already pressing her phone to her ear.

Stiles’ eyes caught Derek’s gaze as the wolf shifted closer, cool September breeze ruffling his dark hair and trying to lift the map off the car.

           “You’ll be careful.” Derek’s voice was low. Meant only for him.

           “You know the rest of the pack might not be, but I actually am an FBI agent.” Stiles grinned, moving until he was nearly pressed to Derek and it took no effort to brush his lips against the alpha’s.

           “I know.” There was a heaviness to Derek’s voice that Stiles wasn’t sure how to interpret. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d had to ditch their plans for some emergency. Supernatural or otherwise.

           “I’m sorry our dinner got interrupted.” He said, gently, ducking his head to get Derek to meet his gaze.

           “Me too.” Derek looked up, kissed him, and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.” He turned, eyes already burning red and headed in the direction of the pack.

           “Hey!” Stiles yelled before Derek broke the tree line. The wolf stopped and turned crimson eyes back to him. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

           Stiles stood watching the place Derek had disappeared until Allison touched his shoulder.

           “All set?” He asked, pulling out his own phone to fire off a quick text to his dad and Parrish, asking them to keep an eye on the main roads heading out of the Preserve. After he’d completed his training, Stiles had been surprised when he was asked to be the bureau’s supernatural liaison to the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department, but wasted no time saying yes.

           He’d only been settled in for a few months when Derek had kissed him for the first time after a particularly difficult battle with a witch. That was two years ago, and they hadn’t looked back since.

           Allison moved at his side, strapping on a tactical vest and pulling back her hair before retrieving her tranquilizer rifle from the trunk. He stepped up beside her and pulled on his own gear, a tact vest and tranq handgun in a shoulder holster. “Let’s take the bike. It’ll be faster.”

           Allison just nodded, slung the rifle’s strap over her shoulder and climbed on behind him when he cranked the motorcycle’s engine over.

***

Chaos. Absolute and utter chaos. Erica and Boyd were pulling dishes out to set the table. Isaac was rooting around in the fridge for beverages. Stiles was sitting on the counter, feet swinging until his heels clicked against the cabinet door. Derek wondered how he managed to endure all the noise, and how in the world he’d ever lived without it.

“I’m telling you,” Erica laughed, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets to get glasses for soda. “It’s a good thing none of you ever signed up to be cowboys because you don’t know the first thing about herding.”

“We’re wolves!” Isaac countered. “It’s a natural instinct and we totally had it under control.”

Boyd snorted. “You and Scott would have had that poor troll all the way to Sacramento if Erica and I hadn’t shown up.”

“Hey!” Scott pouted from the front window where he was watching for the pizza delivery. “We weren’t doing that bad...were we?” Allison grinned and walked over to press a kiss to his cheek.

However they’d managed it, the troll was once again safely within the confines of the wards Stiles had repaired. Derek had hoped when all was said and done that the pack would take the hint and let he and Stiles get back to their anniversary evening.

No such luck.

“All those poor hikers denied their bigfoot sightings.” Isaac shook his head. “Just because you didn’t want to take the scenic route.”

“Hey, what have I told you before?” Stiles piped up, sounding like the amazing emissary he’d become. “We don’t contribute to the bigfoot rumors.” His lips quirked up on the sides and his eyes locked onto to Derek’s as if to say, “Can you believe these kids?”  

Stiles had grown up so much, endured and persevered through so many trials, and yet Derek was still blown away by the simple joy sparkling in the warm brown eyes that he got lost in every chance he could.

He knew in that instant that he didn’t want to wait. Not another day. Not another minute. He’d had special plans for their date that night, but like so many dates before, their lives had pulled them away from the perfect moment he had hoped to create.

It was like a lightning strike to the spine, that realization. This was their life. This was their family. Despite all the pain and loss they’d both experienced, here they were, in the kitchen of the rebuilt version of his family home, surrounded by their pack, their family. Laughter. Love. No moment could more perfect than that.

“Marry me.” Derek said, loud enough only for Stiles to hear him over the clatter.

Everything stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Stiles hopped off the counter still holding Derek’s gaze and took the few steps between them until he was standing close enough to Derek for their chests to brush. Lifting his arms, he grasped the back of Derek’s neck, tilting his head until their foreheads rested together.

“Is that what had you so on edge earlier?” Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled.

“Silly wolf. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Derek pressed forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own and the pack erupted in joyous howls. The kiss was awkward because they were both smiling too much, but Derek wouldn’t have changed any of it.

“Oh my god, my ears!” Stiles laughed, pulling back but not leaving Derek’s arms. “Take the howling outside you bunch of ingrates.”

The pack, of course, did the exact opposite and converged on the two of them with congratulations and hugs and back slaps. Through the din, Derek caught Stiles’ eyes, a small smile on his face. This was their life: escapee trolls, rambunctious pack, protecting, and loving each other.

Stiles winked and grinned back.

[welshwoman1988]

Poor Unfortunate Souls: The Potion

Okay, this world has literally sucked me into the dark depths and I don’t think I’m getting out any time soon...

@pale-silver-comb, I have updated again!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, and now a Part Seven!

And the AO3 link for those that prefer it!

(ALSO TRIGGER WARNING NOTE!!! There is a brief description of a panic attack that only lasts for a few paragraphs. You can stop reading at “DEREK!” and continue on at “After a wave, two...” if you would like to skip that part.)

Happy reading!

Derek makes his way to Stiles’ cave, a slew of emotions boiling in his stomach as he swims over the various corals and shale before stalling at the entrance to Stiles’ domain, unsure if he should just enter or if he should wait until Stiles calls him into his home…

“Are you just going to float out there, or are you going to come in?”

Stiles’ appearance is just as surprising as the last time, only because he seems to be practically vibrating with… it seems like joy and excitement? His tentacles are twitching and flickering out like they have minds of their own, and he also seems to be fighting off some sort of grin or smile…

It makes Derek feel a little bit better, quells the roiling emotions a bit, and he sighs out a laugh as he follows the sea witch back into his house with a playful quip.

“Someone is a little eager…”

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to use my magic and most people are pretty skittish when it comes to actually following through on their requests, so by the time they make it back home, they’ve convinced themselves that they’re better off without whatever it is that made them seek me out in the first place. I usually never see them again.” Stiles shrugs as he moves towards the back of the cave, something telling Derek to stop at the enclave that holds all of Stiles’ trinkets, his tail flicking as he eyes the merman statue in the corner. “You’re the first person who’s actually stuck around in… three years? Huh…has it really been that long…?

Stiles returns to where Derek has been waiting, but the joy that was there seems to have dimmed into a strange sadness that makes Derek speak before he can really think about what he’s saying.

“Well, I don’t plan on leaving for a while yet.”

“Of course not, you still need my spell, after all!” Stiles quips, almost physically shrugging off the strange mood that had overtaken him as he shows Derek a potion in his hand with a little shake, reminding the prince of the showmers that visit the castle every now and again.

“Now, this is the potion that will give us the legs and biology of one of the Landers, but the really tricky part is spelling it for a certain amount of time; it used to be that there was only a three-day limit on the spell and a Mer had to give up something in exchange-”

“What kind of ‘thing’ would I have to give up?” For the first time since meeting Stiles, Derek feels a twinge of anxiousness about the sea witch and wonders if he should have taken Boyd up on his offer to come with to see Stiles…

As if sensing the change in Derek’s mood, Stiles immediately begins waving his arms in a negative gesture, his words almost tripping over themselves in their rush to get out.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no! You don’t have to give up anything with this! I was just saying that in the old days that a Mer had to give up their voice, or that their feet would have extreme pains, or something equally as horrible. I was just trying to brag about how I managed to fix that little problem and instead I’ve just made you uncomfortable… Poseidon damn me to the depths.”

Soothed by the fact that Stiles wasn’t trying to cause him any undue harm, Derek is once more intrigued by the bottle and the magic that he has yet to see. “Why did the Aquids have to give up pieces of themselves for this to work? How did you make it so that doesn’t need to be done?”

Stiles squints at Derek like he’s trying to see if he’s playing a trick on him, before explaining in a slow voice that grows in enthusiasm and confidence the longer Derek doesn’t shy away.

“Well, part of the reason was that some sea witches were just kelp droppings and they mutated the spell to cause the most hurt to the poor Aquid that managed to find them, while a few times it was because they didn’t have the right ingredients or the Aquid decided in the middle of the transformation that they didn’t actually want to go through with the deal.”

“Stiles…” Derek is unsure how to tell the Aquid that he’s starting to feel doubts; not because of Stiles himself, but because he’s not sure if this is the right thing to do. His conversation with his mother has left him feeling keelhauled for a few days now, finding out about the curse from Laura hadn’t helped at all, and all this information that Stiles is giving him is making him feel like he got bowled over by an undertow.

Again, it seems like Stiles can read his mind and the Aquid is swimming close to rub a soothing hand down his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s a big difference between backing out completely and being a little nervous. Like I said, the potion is all brewed and all I need to do is cast the spell for the amount of time. I can cast it to be only for a day, to let you get used to how it feels, then you can come back another day and we can try for longer.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Derek doesn’t understand it; why have there been such vicious rumors about Stiles when this is what the Aquid is really like? They can’t have popped from the sea bed like a startled octopus, they had to have come from somewhere, and it’s making his head hurt the longer he tries to make sense of it.

Stiles is no help at all, blinking at him and looking a little hurt by Derek’s question. “Um, because you’re upset? I may be a right mollusk about some things, but I- I don’t want you to fear me… Not you. Never you.”

This time, it’s Derek that’s left blinking in surprise, all that he can think to say is, “Show me the spell. Make it for only a day.”

Stiles hesitates for a second, almost as if he was going to ask Derek if he was sure, so Derek gives him what his sisters call his ‘murder face’. Stiles just rolls his eyes and laughs, which goes to show that Derek was right when he said they were being ridiculous.

“Alright, alright. On with the show, I guess…”

Stiles closes his eyes and begins to mutter under his breath, the bottle in his hands shining like an eel’s shockers and casting an unearthly glow across Stiles’ skin. While Derek on some level knows that he should be pulling away from this, should worry at the strangeness of everything and how he has no exact knowledge of what Stiles is doing, he can’t help but move closer to warmth that comes from it and stretch out his hand to see if the glow feels as strange as it looks.

It’s as soon as Derek touches Stiles hand with his own that he realizes that this might have been a bad idea, but he’s too busy feeling like something sharp and jagged hit him in the chest to give it or the fact that he can dimly hear Stiles screaming his name to give it any more thought.

“Come on, Derek! Don’t be such a Sourgills!”

“It’s against the rules! You don’t know what could happen! If we get caught-”

“We’re not going to get caught, I know a secret way in!”

“Yeah, you know who says ‘I won’t get caught’? Mer who get caught all the time! And what do you mean ‘secret way in’?”

“I mean this!”

“…oh…”

“It’s okay, Sourgills, you can say that I was totally right and you should never disagree with me ever and that-”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kelp brain, we still haven’t made it inside yet.”

“Oh, we’ll get inside, and then you’ll have to spend all your summers telling everyone how sad you are you can’t be as wonderful as me.”

“Yeah, I’ll just have to rely on my modesty to make friends.”

“What, are you saying I can’t be modest? Come on, Derek! I’m the most modest person there is! Derek? Derek!”

“DEREK!”

He wakes with a jerk, fins thrashing in an attempt to get away from whatever it was that was holding him down, gills constricting to get in more water, he needs to breathe, he can’t breathe…!

“Easy, easy…” The voice is soothing despite the piercing pain in his temple, the hands on his skin gentle enough to avoid aggravating the way his entire being feels flayed open, his head automatically turning towards the sound. “Come on, big guy, you need to breathe for me, you can do it…”

His head shakes in the negative, gills struggling and failing, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t…

“Yes, you can. I’ll show you, okay?” The water moves around him and then there is warmth pressed all along his side, a plethora of arms holding him close and keeping him from drifting away. “Just like this, okay? Breathe in for me…”

It’s a raspy, choking inhale, but he does it.

“…and out, slowly. Go slowly.”

It burns and claws at his chest, but the air leaves his lungs and rattles past his gills.

“That’s it. You did so well. Now, again, okay? In…”

It barely makes it to his lungs, but he keeps the air in, keeps it there and waits for…

“…and out, just like that. That’s good, you’re doing so good. Breathe in again for me, big guy…”

So it goes, for an indeterminate amount of time, as Derek tries to regain his equilibrium. He tries to wrap his mind around what happened, but every time he gets close to understanding, it seems like something in his mind shrinks away and he needs to lean into the warmth holding him as he fights to breathe again.

After a wave, two, an entire tide going in and out, Derek opens his eyes to see Stiles looking down at him with an expression of fear that he’s too slow to wipe away as Derek extracts himself from the Aquid’s tentacles and gets his body right side up.

“Wha- what happened?” Derek leans against an outcropping, both grateful and ashamed that Stiles’ hands haven’t left him, that the Aquid is still close enough that Derek can still feel the warmth of his skin.

“You somehow managed to react with the magic I was casting and it knocked you halfway across my home.” Stiles seems just as jittery as Derek is, his hands flexing like he’s trying to keep from reaching out and his tentacles keep swiping small passes along Derek’s tail.

While it’s flattering, that Stiles seems to be feeling the same pull that Derek is, it’s also a little frightening that he seems to have as little a clue as to what happened as Derek does. It makes him shiver, which in turn draws Stiles closer, the Aquid no longer hiding the way his tentacles are sliding over Derek’s form as if looking for an injury the sea witch cannot see…

“That’s what I get for touching something I really shouldn’t,” Derek quips, trying to lighten the heavy air between them, shaking his head at the small snort that Stiles gives his comment. “It was weird, it was like I was remembering something, something about going somewhere that was against the rules…”

Beside him, almost unknown to Derek, Stiles goes very, very still.

“…but it was odd, what the Aquid with me called me. ‘Sourgills’.” Stiles reaches out and places a hand on Derek’s shoulder, making the Mer look over to him in confusion as he slightly shakes his head. “Nobody has ever called me Sourgills, not even my sisters, so why…?”

“It might have been the magic, messing with your memories.” Stiles says, but something in his voice is… off. Like a tone a parent might use to keep a child from being upset or finding out a hard truth. “I’m sure you’ve done plenty of things against the rules as a kid…”

“No, I haven’t…” Derek tries not to let that information embarrass him when Stiles gives him this absolutely fond look, like he was an otter that did a particularly clever trick. “I don’t know where this memory came from, but I just know that it’s part of what everyone is keeping from me…”

“What do you mean?” Now Stiles is the one that is looking skittish, removing his hands from Derek’s form and taking his warmth with him, but Derek bites down on the whimper that wants to escape him and focuses instead on the need to talk to someone who isn’t under some kind of curse…

“My mother and Deaton… it’s almost like they know something I’ve forgotten or are expecting me to remember something I don’t…” Derek runs a hand through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. “It’s like… Deaton keeps watching me like he expects me to grow another head and my mother… The stress of whatever kind of secret they’re keeping is making my mother fade by the day and I need to know what they’re keeping from me and why everyone is magicked to keep them from telling me!”

“And you thought that going to the Land Above would help you find the answers?” Stiles is now looking at him with an expression that cannot be called anything less than hungry, which makes an odd shiver travel the length of Derek’s tail. “You didn’t think that I might be the one that cast the spell?”

“No, I know that you wouldn’t do that. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do…” Derek rubs at his chest, the old ache flaring up again, a sensation of both missing and not missing something important hitting him all the harder due to them talking about this, instead of trying to push it under the seabed like every Mer and their mother have done whenever Derek brings it up. “It’s the same feeling that tells me that there is something out there for me, something that keeps pulling me toward the Land Above, calling me to the Shore…”

Stiles’ throat works like he’s trying to say something, but in the end, he simply holds the bottle up, a light purple glow covering the contents inside.

For the first time since he had this idea, Derek… hesitates. The last time he tried to interact with Stiles’ magic, he was thrown across a cave and had that strange memory implanted into his brain.

Stiles doesn’t look surprised, although he can’t hide the disappointment quick enough that Derek misses it, but Stiles is already moving the bottle away before he can apologize for his reaction.

“It’s alright, you were hurt the last time that you tried to touch my magic, although I’m pretty sure it was because it was trying to protect itself from something that might have damaged the spell-”

Derek doesn’t know whose more surprised when he snatches the bottle out of Stiles’ hand, but it’s a little funny how quickly Stiles’ jaw drops when he downs the contents in one long swallow.

He doesn’t have long to pay attention to that, because almost as soon as the last of the potion makes it down his throat, he’s finding it hard to breathe and it seems like he’s having a difficult time swimming, his tail feeling somehow like it’s going in two directions instead of one…

“Thetis take it, Derek!” Stiles’ voice sounds so far away-and strangely… wavy?-even as Derek can feel strong arms wrap around him and pull him upwards toward where he had seen the sun flickering into the cave, the light almost darker than he thought it was a moment ago. “You were supposed to wait until I explained everything! I really could do without you-”

Stiles’ voice cuts off then, because for the second time in as many tides, Derek loses consciousness.

[funface2]

10 Hilarious Teen Wolf Memes Only True Fans Will Understand – Screen Rant

The hit MTV supernatural teen drama Teen Wolf may have concluded its run almost two years ago now in September of 2017, but the love for this show will seemingly never die. This surprisingly heartfelt and well written series had pretty much everything anyone would ever ask for in a supernatural horror series about a bunch of high school students, and although no one would have expected it when the show first began it seems safe to say that it will permanently rank up there with the top TV shows in the genre.

RELATED: Teen Wolf: 10 Things You Never Knew About Stiles Stilinski

People who are super fans of a certain TV show, book series, or film can demonstrate that fan love in a lot of different and creative ways. Some fans write fanfiction, some of them edit videos, some of them create graphics, and some of them make their favorite thing into a hilarious meme. So like the many TV shows that came before it, practically every moment in Teen Wolf has been made into a meme, and here are 10 of the funniest.

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10 The Most Special Boy

So I guess being possessed by the Nogitsune doesn’t count? It’s actually ironic that Stiles is the only member of the Teen Wolf squad who isn’t a supernatural creature (at least not permanently), because while he is obviously a complete goofball he also happens to be the person on Teen Wolf who seems to have the best grasp on how to actually handle supernatural situations. Scott McCall’s pack is unfortunately almost always behind the curve when it comes to figuring out what’s happening or how to handle it, but Stiles is usually the first to figure things out and always seems to be a little bit ahead of the pack.

9 Or We’re Just That Person

Okay, so sometimes the worst idea is really the worst idea, but sometimes the worst idea also winds up being the best idea, know what I’m saying? And there’s a reason why Stiles is one of the few human survivors in a supernatural world populated by beings with extraordinary knowledge and power.

RELATED: Teen Wolf: 10 Things You Never Knew About Allison Argent

If you can’t do something smart, do something stupid, and Stiles’ willingness to be a little off the wall has probably saved his behind as well as the behinds of Scott and the rest of the pack more times than any of them would like to admit.

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8 You’re Not You When You’re Hungry

Scott is really such a good mom sometimes, it’s not that hard to believe that he would constantly have snacks on hand to satisfy the needs of one of his many inept children. You’re not you when you’re hungry, and everyone knows that Stiles is 100% the type of person who completely loses his mind when he’s hungry, thirsty, or uncomfortable in any other way anyone can imagine. This method of coping with stress would probably lead to some awkward situations in Teen Wolf though, like just imagine if Derek was crying over his deceased family and someone just told him to cheer up and handed him a candy bar.

7 The Problem Child

Okay, so here’s a conspiracy theory for all of the Teen Wolf fans out there. Derek speculated that the Nogitsune may have possessed Stiles because Stiles is someone who low key wields a lot of power in the world. However there could have been another obvious upside to choosing Stiles, and that is that Stiles is pretty much screwing everything up on a constant basis anyway. The Nogitsune feeds on chaos, and Stiles creating chaos is not the kind of thing that would draw a lot of people’s attention unless he started killing people or burning buildings down or something.

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6 There’s No Stopping Bad Taste

Real talk, if someone doesn’t like Teen Wolf it’s because they haven’t seen Teen Wolf. It’s really easy to write the show off if you’re unfamiliar with it, because no one looks at MTV and thinks wow, I bet they’d have some really killer scripted supernatural dramas on air.

RELATED: 10 Things That Make No Sense In Teen Wolf

Plus there’s the obvious Michael J. Fox movie inspiration. Teen Wolf the movie is awesome, but it shares very little in common with the TV Teen Wolf. So if anyone ever says that Teen Wolf is lame and you see someone else in the room make this face, then you know they’re legitimate fans of the show.

5 You Can’t Keep Love Contained

When your friends say that you should stop talking about Teen Wolf, do you understand what that means? It means you need to find new friends. If you love something then you shouldn’t have to hide it or keep it inside, and if the people around you don’t understand your passion then you just need to find people who feel passionate about the same thing! Plus, pretty much anyone who ever watched Teen Wolf would understand that the twists and turns of this show are the kind of thing that you just have to talk about with someone else sometimes.

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4 It Wasn’t Supposed To Hurt This Much

Teen Wolf follows in the same kind of tradition as a show like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You start the show off and think it’s going to be a kind of cutesy teen supernatural show with high schoolers trying to cope with normal teenage life in addition to some magical shenanigans. And you think well gee, these characters are adorable and this show is actually pretty well written and I’m surprisingly invested in everything that’s happening and then BOOM your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you feel like a part of you died with your fave character and you’re just wondering how that even happened in the first place.

3 Pick Your Poison

That’s it. That’s the show. Most people who watch a show like to imagine themselves existing in that show at some point, or they have a particular character that they can deeply relate to. But anyone who has watched Teen Wolf but hasn’t picked out their particular character avatar has memes like these to make the job easier.

RELATED: Teen Wolf: Supernatural Beings Ranked From Least To Most Powerful

Each character has obviously been summed up in ten bullet points or less, and if anyone sees a bit of themselves in these lists of characteristics then they will finally know for certain if they’re a Styles Bilinski, a Lium Dumbar, or perhaps a Moolia Cake.

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2 Peak Athleticism

Surely some of the people reading this are the freaks of nature who actually manage to look fabulous while partaking in strenuous activity, however if you’re more of a Stiles than an Isaac then have no fear or shame. It’s completely normal to look awful when you feel awful or when you’re doing something awful, and make no mistake, running is unequivocally an awful activity. And on the plus side, even most people who look like a wreck after exercising will still look slightly better than Stiles does here, exhaustion is a normal look but Stiles looks like he just got nailed in the right eye with a ping pong ball or something.

1 Uno Reverse Card

Poor, poor Derek Hale. Legend has it he smiled once. But that was presumably when he was like two years old and not yet capable of rational thought or human emotions. A Teen Wolf and Harry Potter crossover would certainly be a sight to behold, but if Derek existed in the world of Harry Potter then Sirius Black would not have been the first wrongly convicted crazy man to escape from Azkaban prison. The dementors love Azkaban because there is so much energy for them to feed off of, but at this point Derek is an empty vessel, every positive emotion has already been sucked out of him.

NEXT: Teen Wolf Characters Sorted Into Hogwarts Houses

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Bài viết 10 Hilarious Teen Wolf Memes Only True Fans Will Understand – Screen Rant đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

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[wilberme1]

Why Austin landing the Columbus Crew won’t — and shouldn’t — be a free kick – San Antonio Business Journal

If a stadium eventually rises from a barren field in North Austin to host the city’s first professional sports franchise, it will have had humble beginnings.

It will have begun more than a year ago when notable Austin attorney Richard Suttle signed up to lobby for Major League Soccer to set up shop in the Texas capital. Weekday community meetings in a recreation center or in the hallway of a health clinic, neither hosting no more than 100 people, will have led to a deal for a stadium of 20,000 screaming fans.

And it will have overcome a number of obstacles: ranging from wary neighbors in Austin to legal action brought by Ohio’s top law enforcement official.

But the story of Major League Soccer’s Columbus Crew SC, and whether it will move to Austin under the leadership of Precourt Sports Ventures, is not done yet.

PSV officials who run the Columbus Crew, one of the league’s original teams, believe they’ve found a city-owned site in Austin that’s right for their team’s stadium. They’re working to convince Austin officials and residents it’s what’s best for the city too. And it’s all on an expedited schedule: PSV plans to submit a formal proposal by the end of the month and would like some sort of agreement with the city before Austin City Council’s July break.

"We’re still educating the community. We’re still getting educated ourselves," PSV President Dave Greeley told Austin Business Journal. "But we want to put together a value-based deal, a merit-based deal with the city in the very near-term."

"At the end of the day, Austin’s a great place. It does not need Major League Soccer," he added. "But we think it should want Major League Soccer."

Still, an important question remains: Does Austin wants this team and its leadership specifically? While the prospect of the world’s most popular sport on The Domain’s doorstep excites many Austinites, burned bridges in Ohio and months without a formal proposal in Austin leave it an open question.

"This is so preliminary and we are being rushed. And I’m reluctant to be rushed into any large kind of a financial proposal, as any businessperson would as well," said Council Member Leslie Pool, whose district includes the proposed stadium site and part of its surrounding area. "There are a lot of questions that haven’t been answered.

"It would do a disservice to the Austin community, much like it is apparently doing a disservice to the Columbus community, to be there for five years and then pull up stakes and leave," she added. "What does that say to the community that’s left behind and what does that say about the ethics of the business model?"

In either case, Austin and Columbus will find out their draw soon. And one side will leave the pitch disappointed.

"It’s just such a messy situation," said David Carter, executive director of the Marshall Sports Business Institute at the University of Southern California. "There’s a lot of ill will that’s going to be created."

The crew running The Crew

Major League Soccer technically owns Columbus Crew SC, as well as the other 22 teams scattered across the United States and Canada. In MLS jargon, Precourt Sports Ventures acts as what’s called an "investor-operator" that runs the team day-to-day.

Anthony Precourt, CEO and Chairman of Precourt Sports Ventures, acquired the operating rights for the Columbus Crew in 2013 from the Hunt family, sports royalty that ran three MLS teams at one point.

But Greeley said Precourt has "a familiarity" with Austin that goes back roughly 30 years, pointing to Precourt’s time working in Houston where he would come to Austin on an "every weekend kind of deal."

"Anthony has had a long-term affinity for Austin," Greeley said. "Heck, he had his bachelor party in Austin."

Greeley said the Austin market is attractive to PSV for its booming population and economy.

"Austin is a relatively unsaturated sports marketplace," he said. "We think Austin is going to grow more spectacular in the future."

He also said professional soccer would line up with local values, including the Keep Austin Weird culture.

"It resonates with what this community’s about: youthful, energetic, multicultural [and] digitally sophisticated," Greeley said. "That’s really the sweet spot for soccer in this country."

"It’s a sport that is inherently inclusive and inherently diverse," he added. "And we think that really registers with Austin."

But, as Greeley and others will tell you, relocation "is never a pretty subject."

Greeley would not discuss what Austin has that Columbus does not; nor would he comment on efforts back in Columbus to find local investors who could potentially buy the team’s operating rights. But he did say PSV gave "100 percent" to making the Crew work in Columbus.

When asked about PSV’s relationship with the Columbus business community, Greeley said, "We’re very impressed with the connections we’ve made in Austin and, really, talking about what’s happened in Columbus in that regard really doesn’t serve any purpose."

"There is not, over 22 years of fact and history, broad-based community support in Columbus and there is very poor corporate support, based upon facts and history," he said, pointing to naming rights going to Spanish insurance company Mapfre and jersey logo rights going to Japanese car maker Acura.

"It’s a whole different stratosphere where MLS [in] 2018 is," he added. "And this is as much about where we’re going and where we need to go, rather than where we’ve been and where the league has been."

‘It’s like looking in a mirror’

Crew fan Morgan Hughes has gone to all sorts of games at Mapfre Stadium, from important World Cup qualifiers to meaningless exhibition games.

But something different happened at the first Crew game after the potential move to Austin was publicly acknowledged last October.

"I’ve never seen lines to get into that stadium like there were after the announcement last year," he said.

Hughes is a leader in the grassroots Save The Crew movement, a group of fans trying to keep the team in Columbus. Hughes and other fans blame Precourt Sports Ventures for not making the team more successful in Ohio.

"The proof is in the pudding," he said. "They’ve admitted it: They can’t get it done in Columbus."

But Hughes and other fans in the Save The Crew movement believe something more nefarious is afoot: a front-loaded home schedule with games kicking off in the teeth of the central Ohio winter. An unexpected time change, from a Saturday to a Thursday, for a road game against the Chicago Fire that many Crew fans planned to attend. An MLS2ATX announcement dropping several minutes into the season kick-off party for Columbus ticket-holders.

Regardless of the nature of that behavior, Crew fans say PSV and the league have done them wrong.

"We don’t deserve to be treated like this," Hughes said.

Greeley would not comment on accusations the team’s success has been deliberately handicapped in recent months.

Regardless, the Save The Crew movement churns along, meticulously documenting PSV’s role in the saga and tweeting away at Precourt, reporters and MLS2ATX supporters. They even set up "a shadow front office" that sells merchandise and runs community programs in the place of what they deride as an "absentee" investor-operator.

"There’s no playbook for this kind of thing," Hughes said. "All we knew what to do was start telling everyone we knew that it wasn’t over."

Hughes said he wanted to have an open mind toward Precourt’s ownership, even though a section of the fan base always looked skeptically on the San Francisco-based businessman.

"There was distrust of this hedge fund guy from the other side of the continent coming in and owning something we love," Hughes said.

"He [Precourt] told me to my face he was committed to Columbus… I believed him. But they were right and I was wrong," Hughes said of those skeptics.

PSV representatives told ABJ Precourt would not be available to comment for this article.

Hughes said he views Columbus and Austin as very similar places: populated, centrally located state capitals with large research universities and a "hip" millennial vibe.

"It’s really weird these two cities find themselves pitted against each other," he said.

Hughes said he wants the Crew to stay because of what the team means to him and his community. But he also said he doesn’t want "Austin to be hurt by these guys like they’ve hurt us."

"When I look at Austin and I see Anthony Precourt and Dave Greeley and I see their hired hands using the same [tactics] and saying the same f***ing things they said to us, it makes me mad for Crew fans," Hughes said. "It’s like looking in a mirror down there."

Hughes said he hopes Austin soccer fans would do the same if the roles were reversed.

"If there was a community that was being put through this," he told ABJ, "I’d expect them to tell us."

How those warnings coming from Columbus are received in Austin depends on who you talk to.

"I don’t feel good that we’re taking Columbus’ team," said local resident Susan Spataro, who has done work for Circuit of The Americas, where a United Soccer League team could soon play. "We could have put together an expansion team. So I don’t know. That may not be a big deal to people. But I think it’s not right."

On the other hand, Andrew Urban, a vice president in the MLS in Austin supporters group, said he’s been impressed with PSV’s work in Austin so far.

"I’ve seen their plans. I’ve seen their professionalism. I’ve seen how they’ve listened to the community on the different sites. I’ve seen the engagement with the Hispanic community, with the LGBT community, with the business community across the board," he said. "I’ve seen that firsthand. That’s the experience I can speak to."

MLS2ATX supporter Derek Ensign said he feels for passionate Columbus Crew supporters and "how difficult it must be."

"There has been a lot of investment in the team. You can see the rebranding right after he got the team," Ensign said of Precourt. "There’s even more opportunity for increased investment in a team here as opposed to what happened in Ohio."

‘Everybody pretty much feels betrayed’

Hughes and other fans also dispute the idea there’s a lack of support from the Columbus business community.

"We have over 300 business allies that say differently," he said.

Leaders with the Columbus Partnership and Columbus 2020 declined to comment.

Columbus Business First Editor In Chief Doug Buchanan said “everybody pretty much feels betrayed” by the potential move, particularly after reporting surfaced about the so-called “Austin clause" included in the contract when Precourt originally bought rights to the team that he was allowed to try to relocate to Austin.

“It colors everybody’s memory about how he’s acted here and what he’s done,” Buchanan said. “’Was he actually putting forth all the effort in marketing the team?’… From most peoples’ perspective, looking back, he didn’t.”

“[But] it’s hard to objectively look back on that when you look back and the entire time he wasn’t actually interested in staying here,” he added.

Buchanan said businesses in Columbus generally blame Precourt for a lack of engaging corporate sponsors, pointing to Ohio State University athletics and the Columbus Blue Jackets pro hockey team attracting the support of the “who’s who of the big corporate names in town.”

“From the perspective of the Columbus business community, he never really made enough of an effort to get to know people here and ingratiate himself with the community to build the relationships that would have led to bigger and better sponsorship deals,” Buchanan said. “I never really got the sense that he was very involved with the community."

But Buchanan characterized the feeling in Columbus as “pretty pessimistic” on keeping the Crew because of the league’s work with Precourt on the potential relocation.

“We’re not talking about some objective arbiter of how this is playing out,” he said.

“I would not expect any kind of proposal [for buying the team or a new stadium in Columbus] until Precourt was forced to come back from Austin with his tail between his legs because his grand plan didn’t actually work out,” he added. “Everything has to collapse in Austin.”

‘Site, site and site’

What was once a list of eight sites offered by the city has whittled down to one in an industrial part of North Austin known as McKalla Place.

“By now, chips are all in on McKalla Place,” said Richard Suttle, an Armbrust and Brown attorney who now represents PSV. “Because we only have the bandwidth to focus basically, because of the amount of work, [on] one [site] at a time. So we’re focusing on McKalla.”

Suttle said PSV intends to propose paying for the stadium and "actually donate" it to the city. “The city will maintain ownership of the land and the stadium,” he said.

The 24-acre, city-owned tract lies just south of The Domain mixed-use development — an area becoming known as Austin’s second downtown. The city of Austin purchased the former chemical plant site in 1995 before it went through environmental remediation. Both PSV and the city believe the site is safe and remediated enough for residential and commercial development.

“It’s probably the most thorough remediation project the city has ever done,” said Greg Kiloh, the city’s redevelopment project manager.

Kiloh said McKalla Place checked a lot of boxes when it was first added to the city’s list: It’s vacant, large enough to host a stadium and has regional access to major road such as MoPac Expressway, U.S. Highway 183, Burnet Road and Braker Lane.

"The compatability is good because it’s largely a commercial-industrial area," he added. "There aren’t single-family neighborhoods that close to the site."

And, as barren land only used for storing city equipment, it’s not the hottest piece of real estate the city has to offer.

"It’s not terribly attractive and it’s hard to kind of even get into to look at," Kiloh said.

Still, it’s in a booming part of town that’s in the North Burnet-Gateway planning area. It’s also surrounding by existing and upcoming development, such as nearby multifamily projects and a tract owned by Capella Capital Partners LLC slated for high-rise office space and apartments that may ultimately overlook the stadium.

"The zoning allows for development that’s more like downtown than anywhere else in downtown." Kiloh said. "It has a viable use but the pressure is, is it the highest and best use given the [surrounding] context?’"

More than a dozen city departments are studying McKalla Place as a potential stadium site. They’re scrutinizing economic benefits, neighborhood impacts and potential drawbacks. A report to City Council is due by June 1, and PSV officials said they hope to submit their official proposal to the city by that time as well.

Kiloh said he couldn’t think of a similar effort with such scope that occurred in such a short amount of time.

“This is a new one," Kiloh said. "We’ve never really, to my knowledge, done anything quite like this."

The city’s study will also look at the opportunity costs of building a soccer stadium at McKalla Place. In other words, city staff will explore what the city would be losing out on, such as creative office space or affordable housing, if a stadium was built there.

Austin Housing Coalition Chairwoman Nicole Joslin said her organization generally advocates for any opportunity to boost affordable housing in a city struggling with affordability problems.

But Joslin said McKalla Place scores fairly low on potential tax credits for the development of affordable housing. And she said whether funding sources can be leveraged is a critical part of any housing potential.

"The land is only part of the puzzle in making affordable housing work," she said.

Joslin said her coalition is more focused on other city-owned sites such as Justin Lane, the former Home Depot/Chrysler site, Winnebago and Health South.

"There are a ton of other city parcels that are good for affordable housing as well," Joslin said. "It’s up against much more higher opportunity sites in Austin."

For PSV, locking up the permanent stadium site comes even before figuring out where the team would play temporarily in March 2019, 10 months from now, though the University of Texas at Austin football stadium has been part of that conversation.

"We’re not there yet," Greeley said of temporary playing arrangements. "But obviously, once we get a site, we think a lot of things fall into place for that."

After a groundswell of community opposition to placing the stadium at Butler Shores Metropolitan Park and Roy G. Guerrero Colorado River Park, PSV officials believe they have found their site at McKalla Place.

"Our biggest challenges are site, site and site," Greeley said. "And we think we have a site that works for this sort of value proposition."

‘A long-term upside’

PSV has touted that a McKalla Place stadium could bring in more than $326 million in direct community value over the next 25 years. But experts have questioned how those numbers were reached without an official stadium proposal or additional details on the stadium’s private financing.

Still, Greeley said they expect for the economic impact of the project to be "profound."

"This is a chance for people who might not come into the city that live in surrounding communities. It could be Cedar Park. It could be Round Rock. It could be San Antonio. Heck, it could be Dallas or Houston," he said. "There could be a lot of people that want to come to support their MLS team from their market or support Austin’s [first] major league sports franchise."

Roger Noll, an economics professor at Stanford University, said the impact will largely depend on how the stadium fits into the long-term plans for the surrounding area.

"You don’t really know until those plans are hatched what the local economic impact is going to be," he said. "What are you going to use it for the other 345 days of the year? That’s an essential part of that."

Noll said new sports franchises often create a substitution effect on existing businesses, redistributing consumer dollars already being spent in the community rather than creating new spending.

He said that effect is particularly felt among businesses that provide other forms of entertainment or recreation. For example, while sports bars near the stadium might prosper, "sports bars five miles away lose," Noll said.

Noll said successful stadiums, pointing to arenas for the Sacramento Kings and Washington Wizards of the NBA , incorporate themselves into the larger area to offset negative effects.

"It’s integrated into a much larger retail, commercial and even residential development," he said. "This is the wave of the future but there are teams out there that haven’t met the future."

Carter, at USC’s Marshall Sports Business Institute, said Austin fits in the league’s goals to expand into "untapped markets" with potential municipal support and sufficient disposable income.

"They are hoping to make sure they have this adequate mix of avid soccer fans but also casual fans that they can convert," Carter said.

Carter said he can see Austin embracing the franchise if the team is well-run and marketed effectively to the region. He added that investing in an MLS team is "clearly a long-term play" by those hoping media deals and ticket revenue will grow as the sport’s popularity expands.

"Anyone that is writing a check is not expecting that return tomorrow or anytime soon," he said. "They are betting and betting dramatically on a long-term upside."

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[auburnfamilynews]

Signing day is still months away but it’s never too early to try predicting the future. The truth is I don’t really have much to talk about this week. It appears Clemson has asserted themselves as the possible leader for 4* WR Justyn Ross after Saturday night and LSU has emerged as a legitimate contender in the 5* QB Justin Fields race. But those are not happy things to talk about and I am tired of talking about not happy things this week... So, like any great recruiting writer lacking content, I am going to do a class prediction today. Two warnings though before diving in. First, I am not an insider. Unlike apparently 50% of Auburn fans on the internet, I don’t have any close connected sources to the Auburn coaching staff or recruits. I do, however, spend way too much of my free time reading/writing/following the wild world of recruiting so there’s that. Second, this is probably going to be wrong. So much changes in recruiting that it’s impossible to really understand or know what’s going to be happening months from now. What if Auburn gets their offense figured out and goes 11-1? What if they don’t, defense collapses and Gus is sent packing after a 3-9 season? What if AU finishes 9-3, Malzahn sticks around but half of the assistant coaches on staff leave? There are so many different scenarios that can have a major affect on a recruit’s decision that confidently stating what’s going to happen is sheer lunacy. But the internet loves lunacy, so here’s my 100% accurate 2018 Auburn signing class prediction.

Quarterback - 1

4* Joey Gatewood (Committed) - Gatewood entered the 2017 season with a lot of question marks about his ability to play quarterback at the next level. So far he’s sent a clear message that he’s more than capable. At 6’4” 230 lbs, Gatewood is one of the best athletes in this class and has shown outstanding improvement as a passer early in the season. He is still a bit raw and will probably need some time to develop but his ceiling is as high as you will find in this class.

Running Back - 2

4* Asa Martin (Committed) - I am still hyped about this commitment. Martin is off to a a ridiculous start and making a strong case to move up in the rankings. He’s flashed a little bit of everything but I have especially enjoyed how strong he’s looked running in between the tackles. Tigers are getting a good one.

3* Shaun Shivers (Committed) - One of Auburn’s longest committed recruits, Shivers has become an important recruiter for the Tigers. He’s far from the biggest kid on the block but is one of the fastest players in this class and is a little ball of muscle making him capable of running between the tackles some at the next level. I expect Auburn will find ways to get this kid the ball down the road.

Wide Receiver - 3

4* Seth Williams - Just a few months ago this would have seemed ludicrous but not now. Kodi Burns has done an outstanding job recruiting Williams and the big bodied WR out of Cottondale, AL seems to be trending Auburn. Bama is always a threat but they seem to have their sights set elsewhere for now. Auburn might need to start showing more of a passing threat to seal this commitment but as of today I think Williams ends up a Tiger.

4* Matthew Hill (Committed) - I love Hill’s skillset. He’s got great length, big time speed and is just a playmaker. Landing him last month was a big boost for this recruiting class.

3* Shedrick Jackson (Committed) - So far this season, Jackson has proved unstoppable. He’s snagged 13 catches for 250 yds and a TD through two games and there’s a chance that at least on 247 he will get that 4* bump. Seems like every time he takes the field he gets better.

Tight End - 1

3* Tyneil Hopper - The tight end position has been a mystery this recruiting cycle which shouldn’t be surprising given how it’s use in our offense is also a mystery. FWIW Auburn did attempt to target both Jalen Harris and Salvatore Cannella against Clemson but good coverage or poor execution prevented either from making a catch. Hopper looks a lot like the type of player Lindsey wants in this system moving forward. Keep an eye on Michael Parker as well.

Offensive Line - 4

4* Trey Hill - Hill’s recruitment has been hard to track. For a long time, most people just assumed he would end up at Georgia but that certainty seems to be fading. That week 1 visit to Auburn should not undersold. I think the chance to get on the field early with Austin Golson and Braden Smith graduating along with him being close with the Auburn coaching staff helps the Tigers land the top 50 player. Auburn must win this year if they want to land Hill though, he’s made it clear he wants to go play for a competitor.

4* Dylan Wonnum - Auburn quietly built momentum with Wonnum over the summer up to the point that now some think he’s a major AU lean. South Carolina is a real threat as his brother currently plays for the Gamecocks. The Tigers have made Wonnum a major priority and that could pay off in December when he plans to commit.

3* Jalil Irvin (Committed) - No idea why this kid isn’t rated higher. Irvin plays tackle for his high school but will probably end up at center or guard at the next level. He’s an outstanding player and is working hard to help the Tigers land one of his long time buddies, Dylan Wonnum.

3* Kameron Stutts (Committed) - Stutts is a monster up front. At 6’4” 329 lbs, this dude crushes people in the run game. Auburn has done an outstanding job of consistently recruiting road graders in the interior and Stutts is no different. I think he’s got NFL potential and will leave Auburn a multi year starter.

Defensive Line - 5

4* Coynis Miller - Miller continues to say that the Florida Gators are his top team. However, it wasn’t all that long ago Asa Martin was saying the same thing. Bottom line, it’s hard to get kids out of the state of Alabama that the Tigers or Tide want. Miller is close with Martin and has a great relationship with Rodney Garner. Oh and his former teammate Tadarian Moultry is on campus too. In the end, I think relationships and location swing this in Auburn’s favor.

4* Richard Jibunor - There’s a very good chance Jibunor will be making his decision very soon. He will visit Gainesville this weekend and a decision is expected not too long after. Right now, Auburn appears in the driver’s seat and this would be an outstanding pickup for the Tigers.

3* Kayode Oladele - Based off 247’s Crystal Ball feature, Auburn is trending up with Nigerian native Oladele. He’s a guy with a great frame at 6’4” 237 lbs and has a lot of the raw tools you love to see in an end prospect. If Auburn were to sign Oladele and Jibunor that would give them four Nigerian born players on the team. Pretty cool.

3* Daquan Newkirk (Committed) - Newkirk is off to a strong start at Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College. He’s a big dude and though he is listed as a DE, he will more than likely play DT for Auburn next year. He’s a guy that will join Auburn’s DL rotation the moment he steps on campus.

3* Caleb Johnson - Johnson has long been on Auburn’s radar. With things not looking great for Andres Fox, I suspect you see Auburn start to really push for the Columbus, GA native. Johnson is listed as a LB on 247 but at 6’4” 250 lbs, his future is on the defensive line. The Tigers will have to beat out Georgia and Tennessee if they want to land Johnson.

Linebacker - 3

4* Channing Tindall - I have about 5% confidence in this pick and honestly probably shouldn’t have included him. The Gamecocks appear to be the clear cut leader for the freak athlete out of Columbia, SC. However, Auburn has two reasons for hope. First, he’s very close with linebacker coach Travis Williams who played high school football at Tindall’s school. Second, he’s become pretty close with AU lean 4* Richard Jibunor. The two plan on visiting Florida this weekend together. This is a long shot but if Auburn can reel in Jibunor and get Tindall back on the Plains for a visit soon, there’s a chance.

4* Quay Walker - I actually feel a lot more confident in this prediction than Tindall. It seems a matter of when not if Walker flips from Bama. The Crisp County star has visited multiple other schools and some seem to think that both Auburn and Florida State have a great shot of flipping him. Personally, I think having Big Kat Bryant on the team along with Travis Williams and Kevin Steele helps Auburn steal this talented backer away. It might end up that the team that gets him to visit last wins.

4* Michael Harris (Committed) - No matter what, Auburn has done a great job at linebacker already having this kid committed. I am very high on Harris and think he is one of the top ten linebackers in this class and possibly the best in the southeast. Excited to see him suit up for Auburn next year.

Cornerback - 2

3* Joseph Foucha - This is more of a hope than a prediction. Over the summer, it looked very likely that Foucha would end up with the Tigers. Then, Auburn went on a roll at safety landing Monday, Sherwood and Marsh. All of a sudden, Foucha didn’t have a spot. However, now Auburn is evaluating Foucha as a CB or Nickel prospect. I am extremely high on this kid and hope Auburn finds a way to get him on campus. Personally, I think he could play all three DB spots in Auburn’s defense.

3* Derek Turner - It appears Turner wants to be an Auburn Tiger but the staff is taking it slow at the cornerback position. However, Turner brings a nice combination of size and physicality that I think the Tigers won’t pass on when given the chance. Turner and Foucha would give Auburn two commits from Louisiana in one class, something Auburn hasn’t done since 2007.

Safety - 4

4* Quindarious Monday (Committed) - Monday just might be Auburn’s most important commitment in this class. The Tigers will lose three outstanding senior safeties this year to go along with the two underclassmen that left the program. Auburn will need guys ready to go day 1 and Monday is that type of player. Keep an eye on Clemson who has not given up on flipping Monday but for now I think orange and blue Tigers hang on.

3* Jamien Sherwood (Committed) - Sherwood is an old school football player. He does pretty much everything for his high school team from running back, to tight end, to linebacker, to cornerback and of course safety. Don’t be shocked if he finds his way onto the field early on in his career. A Monday/Sherwood safety combo gives Auburn two long, hard hitting athletes back there.

3* Kolbi Fuqua (Committed) - Originally, Fuqua committed as a wide receiver. Since then, he’s agreed to flip to safety which I think is a smart decision. Unfortunately, his high school team isn’t really that good but from the limited film I have seen, I think Fuqua has a bright future on the defensive side of the ball.

3* Josh Marsh (Committed) - Marsh was a star at Auburn’s last camp this summer, earning an offer and committing on the spot. He’s a tackle machine who could end up playing linebacker at the next level but will probably play more of a hybrid role.

According to 247’s Class Calculator, this group would give Auburn a score of 264.27 which puts them in the 8-12 range historically. It’s important to note that rankings aren’t finalized and there’s always a chance that some of these guys rise in the rankings helping Auburn’s score. Also, there are still some other big fish out there in the likes of Justin Fields, Justyn Ross and JJ Peterson that Auburn is fighting to land. What happens on the field moving forward is not only important for Gus Malzahn’s career but for Auburn’s recruiting class as well. I still believe that if Auburn can put together a 9+ win season, you will see the Tigers sign another top 10 class. War Eagle! from College and Magnolia http://bit.ly/2wvBHhC

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @lover95!

This is my Sterek Secret Santa gift for lover95! I hope you enjoy your fluffy soulmark AU! I certainly enjoyed writing it!

Read om AO3

******

you left a mark on me

Stiles is a klutz.

That much is well known.

What is less known is how only about half of the scrapes he gets into are his own fault- if that! Because in this universe you are lucky enough to share every injury with your soulmate - even if you don’t yet know the bastard.

With the amount of injuries they amass in a week, Stiles’ soulmate is either an even worse klutz than Stiles himself, part of a circus troupe (probably the always stumbling and falling clown), or a spy - James Bond style. Stiles would of course prefer the last option - purely because of the coolness factor. Who could resist James Bond?

When Scott gets bitten, a whole new world of options suddenly opens up. In Stiles’ newfound experience, supernatural beings spend most of their time injured in some way or form. To add insult to injury- literally!- they barely even notice it most of the time!

It would be just like Stiles’ luck: having a werewolf for a soulmate who spends most of their time getting injured - and probably doesn’t care to think about how that affects him. Ouch.

~*~

Soulmates aren't a very well studied phenomenon.

It is not known what percentage of the population has a soulmate, mostly because most people don't even know it themselves. You don't get a neat tattoo of your soulmate’s name or of the first words they say to you or anything helpful like that. Stiles wishes he lived in a universe like that. Instead he gets soulmarks - literal marks appearing on his body, reflecting the injuries of his soulmate.

Soulmarks can be anything - from light bruises to red scratches to even the occasional sprain. There's some stories about people breaking bones, but Stiles doesn't give any credit to those - he certainly hasn't ever broken a bone because of his soulmate and he has carried just about every other soulmark known to mankind on his skin.

Hence the thinking his soulmate was a super spy before realising werewolves were a thing.

Thankfully soulmarks are usually less severe than the original injury and never fatal. So instead of the deep scratch your soulmate has, you might end up with a heavy bruise, or a sprain instead of a break. But that right there is also why most people never even realise they have a soulmate. How many bruises do you discover on the regular without remembering how you got them? How would you ever know which came from knocking into the corner of the kitchen cabinet and which appeared because your soulmate accidentally dropped a hammer on their foot?

You see, most people don't suffer from severe injuries on the regular, and thus neither do their soulmates. Unless your soulmate is a werewolf of course.

It took cataloguing all of his cuts and bruises very meticulously, while also keeping track of which scrapes his friends got into, but the evidence finally seems to suggest that his soulmate is one of the pack. That's as far as Stiles has gotten, though. The only one he can rule out for sure is Scott and thank God for that. Stiles loves that guy like a brother, but that's just it - like a brother . Allison can keep his dick, as far as Stiles is concerned.

Everyone else is fair game though, even Jackson, perish the thought. He has mellowed out somewhat after his stint in good, old England, but still, the universe would have a very sick sense of humour if Stiles’ soulmate turned out to be Jackson Whittemore of all people. Stiles wouldn't mind any of the other betas, but really, there's only one member of the pack he is truly interested in.

That's the crux of the matter with soulmarks: How do you know you’ll even like your soulmate? What if you don’t? What if you love someone and they aren’t your soulmate? Or you aren’t theirs?

All of those are reasons why a lot of people do not actively attempt to search out their soulmate.

There are of course those who do - ritualistic woundings are a thing that unfortunately still exists, and pricking the fingers is a wedding rite that is occasionally celebrated, too. Hollywood loves the soulmate trope of course, soulmarks front and centre on posters even if they barely play a role in the film. Whole rows of bookstores are filled with soulmark romances - from Ancient Rome to outer space and everywhere in between. The question whether Cleopatra’s true soulmate was Caesar or Antony is a hotly debated one in certain circles.

Stiles himself has always dreamed of finding his soulmate.

His parents had been soulmates, though they only realised it years after being married, when his dad got shot on patrol by the only bank robber Beacon Hills has ever gotten and his mum bruised like a peach in the same place his shot wound was. Stiles has gotten his delicate complexion from her.

And the hopelessly romantic streak apparently.

His mum had loved that his dad and her had turned out to be soulmates after they married; it made her believe in fate she used to say and that “you'll find your soulmate, too, kochanie , and they’ll leave an even deeper mark on your heart than on your skin. Just be patient, baby.”

Well, Stiles has certainly got the marks on his skin, and someone has also left his mark on Stiles’ heart, but he's not sure those belong together. So, rather than risking learning an answer he doesn't want to know, he stops searching for an answer all together.

He'd like to imagine that his mother would approve of him being patient and waiting for whatever will happen. She'd probably just scold him for giving up, though.

The thought is not enough to make him risk his heart however.

~*~

Over the last few years, a tradition of pre-Christmas pack dinner has developed. Christmas is spent with their respective families, but the last weekend before Christmas is for the pack. It’s done potluck style - everyone likes different things, so instead of trying to find a compromise everyone’s happy with, they had decided to just let everyone bring what they want to eat. Stiles has learned to make an extra large batch of his pierogi , because that is eaten by just about everyone, whereas Lydia’s kale salad goes largely ignored by everybody but her and Jackson (the poor guy really is whipped).

Another tradition that has grown out of that one is the decorating the day before.

That’s not a pack tradition, though. This one is just for Derek and Stiles.

Because while pack dinner happens at Derek’s loft, it has long been decided that Derek is not to be trusted to decorate appropriately for the occasion. So Stiles always comes over the day before to help, and afterwards they order in and watch at least one Christmas classic. In a way it feels like their own little Christmas tradition, and Stiles has grown very protective of it. It’s when they reminisce about the past year and plan ahead for the next. Derek told Stiles about his plans to go back to uni while hanging up tinsel and Stiles spoke about his fear of losing his dad while spraying fake frostwork onto Derek’s windows. It’s as if no secrets exist between them when hanging up Christmas decorations - none except for Stiles’ soulmarks. Those he hasn’t dared to bring up yet.

This year’s decoration theme is definitely forest-y - gnarly roots as candle holders, cones and acorns instead of golden stars and red baubles, and even some mistletoe. According to Derek, Laura hated the artificiality of most Christmas decorations, all those garish colours, plastic-y scents, and the glitter that sticks to everything until Valentine’s Day comes around and covers you in more glitter, just this time in pink. Apparently the Hale siblings used to take turns decorating the house for Christmas, and when it was up to Laura, she did her best to bring the forest into the house.

“When I saw that mistletoe in the Reserve on my last patrol, it made me think of her, and how much she loved hanging them over every single door frame in the house. We never got anything done when Laura had decorated for Christmas because everyone was too busy kissing everyone else,” Derek says, a small smile on his face while his eyes show that he is far away, lost in memories. “I thought it would be nice to remember her through this - decorating like her,” he adds, and then asks, suddenly sounding very unsure: “Unless you think the pack would prefer more traditional decorations?”

“There’s nothing more traditional than mistletoe,” Stiles replies firmly. “And if Lydia says anything, I’ll remind her of the year she thought burnt orange and dark teal would make good Christmas tree colours.”

Derek smiles softly in response, and Stiles would have liked to blame the answering flutter of his heart on heart burn but he has long ago learned that lying to himself is of no use.

So, rustic decorations it is, which brings Stiles to the predicament he is currently in: balancing precariously on one of Derek’s bar stools, mistletoe in one hand, hammer in another and four, no three nails in his mouth. One nail just slipped out and possibly scratched one of his toes on its way down. Stiles doesn’t trust his balance enough to dare look down to check for blood. He’d call for help, but he’s honestly afraid of accidentally swallowing a nail if he opens his mouth. His genius idea to nail the mistletoe to the ceiling in the middle of the room, so that everyone ends up stuck under it again and again suddenly doesn’t look so genius any more.

Carefully, Stiles switches the mistletoe to his other hand, and takes one of the nails out of his mouth with his now free hand. So far, so good, but when he attempts to hammer the nail into the ceiling, he slips, and loses his balance.

Strangely enough, his last thought as he falls goes out to his soulmate. Maybe he’ll feel that.

But instead of hitting the hard floor, Stiles is caught in two strong arms, which break his fall. Somehow he even manages to spit out the remaining nails instead of swallowing them and killing himself that way. When he looks up, Derek’s face is dark with anger and white with fear.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he scolds and shakes Stiles slightly. “You could have broken your neck!”

“You caught me, though, didn’t you?” Stiles says, smiling angelically and tries not to feel disappointed that he didn’t at least break a leg or something. Surely his soulmate would have noticed that .

“And I’m starting to regret it already,” Derek snarks back, but his hands are gentle as he makes sure Stiles has regained his balance enough to stand on his own two feet again.

“Liar, you love me,” Stiles singsongs, and tries to ignore how much he wishes that were true.

“I hate you,” Derek throws back at him over his shoulder, having already turned away, so that Stiles can’t even see his face. And he doesn’t have a built in lie-detector.

“Hate to love me, you mean,” he still needles, and follows Derek, drawn like the moth to the flame, as always.

“If you say so,” Derek replies noncommittally, and Stiles forgets the snarky retort he’d had on the tip of his tongue, because he had been too focused on Derek to look where he was going and had run into the coffee table. Hard. Ouch.

In front of him, Derek stumbles.

Stiles’ shin throbs, and his thoughts are running wild.

He knocks his shin against the coffee table once more, and Derek stumbles again.

Elated, Stiles keeps kicking the coffee table, until Derek finally gets a clue and turns around. His eyes are wide and the look on his face is one of pure astonishment and disbelief. Stiles on the other hand can’t feel his cheeks anymore, he’s grinning so widely. Derek’s gaze caught in his, he deliberately kicks out one last time and his heart jumps when Derek flinches in reaction.

“I was hoping it was you,” he breathes, but at the same time, Derek says: “I was hoping it wasn’t you.”

“What?”

Stiles’ stomach is suddenly a ball of ice, all the elation he was just experiencing gone like a tendril of smoke in the wind. But Derek shakes his head hurriedly and steps closer, hand stretched out towards Stiles.

“No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just - I’m so broken, literally , and I couldn’t bear the thought of having inadvertently hurt you. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do. I know I don’t experience soulmarks the way you do, but the pain I must have caused you!”

The ice in Stiles melts as suddenly as it appeared and he steps forward in turn to take Derek’s still outstretched hand.

“I was hoping it was you,” he says, but then amends: “Well, actually, I was hoping it was James Bond for quite a few years. But once I knew werewolves were a thing, it was always you I was hoping for. I couldn’t know for sure, and I was too scared to ask, so I just kept quietly hoping. My soulmarks didn’t cause me pain so much as they gave me hope!”

Derek is obviously still sceptical and not convinced yet, so Stiles decides he has to haul out the big guns. Pun intended. He squeezes Derek’s hand in reassurance before dropping it and whipping off his shirt. Werewolves run hotter than humans, so the air in Derek’s loft is cool on his skin. The urge to cross his arms in front of his chest to hide himself is almost overwhelming, but the whole point of this exercise is to bare himself to Derek. So he gathers his courage, pulls his shoulders back and stands proud and tall.

“See this?” Stiles points towards a white scar on his right side. “That’s from when Scott fell off his chair in maths and I let myself fall off my chair, too, so he’d not be so embarrassed. Only I managed to cut myself somehow and bled all over everything, so then he was embarrassed for us both and worrying about me to boot.” He points towards a greenish bruise on his hip next. “I got that when I ran into our dining table earlier in the week. No particular reason why, I’m just spatially challenged apparently. I’ve got countless more marks like these, some visible scars, some fading bruises, most gone forever. I only remember the very visible ones, like that scar, or the most recent ones, like that bruise.”

He swallows and then turns half away from Derek.

“See my right shoulder blade? You see nothing, right? That’s where my first soulmark appeared. Or well, it probably wasn’t actually the first one ever, but it was the first one I noticed and recognised. It was just a small scratch with a pale purplish bruise. But I kept looking at it in the mirror because I was so happy. It was proof I had a soulmate, someone just for me. Someone who’d love me for who I am, because, not in spite of. That mark is long gone, but I’ll never forget about it. I’ll never forget about any of them. Like here,” he says, turning back around again, drawing a finger down his stomach and then repeating the motion on Derek’s clothed stomach.

“That’s when I knew for sure it was someone from the pack. That’s when I really started hoping it was you. But you all heal too quickly for me to properly catalogue your injuries, so I couldn’t ever be quite sure. Until now.”

Derek doesn’t immediately say anything. Instead he gently traces the path Stiles’ finger took, stroking across the skin on Stiles’ stomach, which breaks out into goosebumps at the touch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, voice barely above a whisper and Stiles admits: “You probably will. But I’ll heal - not as quickly as you and the rest of the puppies, but I’ll heal. And I’ll treasure my soulmarks even more than before. But you can always mark me up in more pleasurable ways, too,” he adds with a wink and tilts his head to the side, hopefully revealing his throat in a tantalising way.

“You are the worst,” Derek replies, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips that lets Stiles repeat, this time with conviction: “And still you love me.”

“I do,” Derek acknowledges, and then curves his hand around Stiles’ shoulder, palm touching where his first soulmark appeared. The touch seems to shoot sparks through Stiles’ body, electrifying him. Gentle pressure on his back encourages him to lean in and then Derek’s other hand comes up to guide his chin up, so their lips can meet in a soft, careful kiss.

Before his attention is entirely consumed by Derek and his kisses Stiles thinks: “I didn’t even need the mistletoe.”

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @idleafterthoughts!

Perfect Moment

“Can I get a sitrep?” Stiles nearly yelled against the phone, his face pressed as close to Derek’s back as possible while Derek’s Harley tore down a back-country road just south of the Preserve.

“Oh my god, Batman! We’re not FBI agents.” Erica shouted back, her voice tinny against the rushing wind.  

    A chunk of Stiles’ hair lashed his eye and he pulled the phone away from his ear to brush it back, keeping one arm securely wrapped around Derek’s middle. His hair was the longest it had ever been, falling to just below his ears, and while Derek had said he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Stiles knew he liked it if the way the wolf constantly had his hands in it was any indication.

    “Stiles!” Erica’s voice came through the speaker and he shoved the phone back to his ear and hunkered down behind Derek again.

    “I’m here. Do you even know what kind of creature it is?”

    The rustling on the other end intensified then Allison’s voice filtered into his ear. “I can’t believe you guys really called them! Stiles, it’s just a troll. We’ve got this. You guys go enjoy your date.”

    Derek started shaking his head before Allison even finished her sentence.

    “Nope,” Stiles sighed. “We’re already almost there so we’ll see you in a few minutes. I mean, who doesn’t want to go troll wrangling on their anniversary?”

***

Allison had been right. It was a troll, but not just any troll.

“I’m going to have to check the wards around the enclosure,” Stiles said, pointing to a spot on the map they’d laid over the trunk of Allison’s car where she’d parked to the side of one of the Preserve’s many access roads. “If she’s the only one that’s gotten out then maybe I can get the wards back in place before any of the others realize they’re down.”

           Derek was standing on Stiles’ other side, arms crossed, and looked up sharply when a howl filtered through the trees. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Scott were already out herding the wayward troll back to safety.

Over the years, the nemeton had never stopped being a beacon for supernatural creatures. Some of the human ones, like Parrish, had integrated themselves into the regular society of Beacon Hills. All the rest had either been driven out by the pack when they proved a threat or if the creatures were like their errant troll, the pack led them to the enclosure Stiles and Deaton had created with wards deep in the Preserve. It allowed the creatures to live in peace near the energy from the nemeton they craved.  

               “They’ve got her between them,” Derek said, eyes narrowed and head cocked, listening to things he and Allison had no chance of hearing with their human ears. “But she’s trying to move towards town. I need to go help them.”

           “Go. Ally and I will head to the enclosure and fix the wards.”

           “Call your Dad. Have him and Parrish on standby just in case. Ally, call Chris too?”

“I’m on it,” Allison said, turning away and already pressing her phone to her ear.

Stiles’ eyes caught Derek’s gaze as the wolf shifted closer, cool September breeze ruffling his dark hair and trying to lift the map off the car.

           “You’ll be careful.” Derek’s voice was low. Meant only for him.

           “You know the rest of the pack might not be, but I actually am an FBI agent.” Stiles grinned, moving until he was nearly pressed to Derek and it took no effort to brush his lips against the alpha’s.

           “I know.” There was a heaviness to Derek’s voice that Stiles wasn’t sure how to interpret. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d had to ditch their plans for some emergency. Supernatural or otherwise.

           “I’m sorry our dinner got interrupted.” He said, gently, ducking his head to get Derek to meet his gaze.

           “Me too.” Derek looked up, kissed him, and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.” He turned, eyes already burning red and headed in the direction of the pack.

           “Hey!” Stiles yelled before Derek broke the tree line. The wolf stopped and turned crimson eyes back to him. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

           Stiles stood watching the place Derek had disappeared until Allison touched his shoulder.

           “All set?” He asked, pulling out his own phone to fire off a quick text to his dad and Parrish, asking them to keep an eye on the main roads heading out of the Preserve. After he’d completed his training, Stiles had been surprised when he was asked to be the bureau’s supernatural liaison to the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department, but wasted no time saying yes.

           He’d only been settled in for a few months when Derek had kissed him for the first time after a particularly difficult battle with a witch. That was two years ago, and they hadn’t looked back since.

           Allison moved at his side, strapping on a tactical vest and pulling back her hair before retrieving her tranquilizer rifle from the trunk. He stepped up beside her and pulled on his own gear, a tact vest and tranq handgun in a shoulder holster. “Let’s take the bike. It’ll be faster.”

           Allison just nodded, slung the rifle’s strap over her shoulder and climbed on behind him when he cranked the motorcycle’s engine over.

***

    Chaos. Absolute and utter chaos. Erica and Boyd were pulling dishes out to set the table. Isaac was rooting around in the fridge for beverages. Stiles was sitting on the counter, feet swinging until his heels clicked against the cabinet door. Derek wondered how he managed to endure all the noise, and how in the world he’d ever lived without it.

    “I’m telling you,” Erica laughed, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets to get glasses for soda. “It’s a good thing none of you ever signed up to be cowboys because you don’t know the first thing about herding.”

    “We’re wolves!” Isaac countered. “It’s a natural instinct and we totally had it under control.”

    Boyd snorted. “You and Scott would have had that poor troll all the way to Sacramento if Erica and I hadn’t shown up.”

    “Hey!” Scott pouted from the front window where he was watching for the pizza delivery. “We weren’t doing that bad...were we?” Allison grinned and walked over to press a kiss to his cheek.

    However they’d managed it, the troll was once again safely within the confines of the wards Stiles had repaired. Derek had hoped when all was said and done that the pack would take the hint and let he and Stiles get back to their anniversary evening.

    No such luck.

    “All those poor hikers denied their bigfoot sightings.” Isaac shook his head. “Just because you didn’t want to take the scenic route.”

    “Hey, what have I told you before?” Stiles piped up, sounding like the amazing emissary he’d become. “We don’t contribute to the bigfoot rumors.” His lips quirked up on the sides and his eyes locked onto to Derek’s as if to say, “Can you believe these kids?”  

    Stiles had grown up so much, endured and persevered through so many trials, and yet Derek was still blown away by the simple joy sparkling in the warm brown eyes that he got lost in every chance he could.

He knew in that instant that he didn’t want to wait. Not another day. Not another minute. He’d had special plans for their date that night, but like so many dates before, their lives had pulled them away from the perfect moment he had hoped for.

It was like a lightning strike to the spine, that realization. This was their life. This was their family. Despite all the pain and loss they’d both experienced, here they were, in the kitchen of the rebuilt version of his family home, surrounded by their pack, their family. Laughter. Love. No moment could more perfect than that.

“Marry me.” Derek said, loud enough only for Stiles to hear him over the clatter.

Everything stopped. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Stiles hopped off the counter still holding Derek’s gaze and took the few steps between them until he was standing close enough to Derek for their chests to brush. Lifting his arms, he grasped the back of Derek’s neck, tilting his head until their foreheads rested together.

“Is that what had you so on edge earlier?” Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded, and Stiles smiled.

“Silly wolf. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Derek pressed forward, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own and the pack erupted in joyous howls. The kiss was awkward because they were both smiling too much, but Derek wouldn’t have changed any of it.

“Oh my god, my ears!” Stiles laughed, pulling back but not leaving Derek’s arms. “Take the howling outside you bunch of ingrates.”

The pack, of course, did the exact opposite and converged on the two of them with congratulations and hugs and back slaps. Through the din, Derek caught Stiles’ eyes, a small smile on his face. This was their life: escapee trolls, rambunctious pack, protecting, and loving each other.

    Stiles winked and grinned back.