“they, you know, are so in love with this young man, dylan o’brien, and i kind of get it now.” (holland roden)
#this scene is everything????#because the sheriff looks at derek and sighs#he’s like ‘fuck i’m asking this kid - yes because he’s still just a kid#who’s been through so much already#and i’m here asking him to help my son and maybe get hurt in the process#maybe even dying’#and then you have the surprised look on derek’s face#because derek knows that the sheriff would still go anyway#he would go on his own#and derek knows he would never give up#and then he stops to think about it#to think about the boy that also doesn’t give up#the boy that MIGHT be giving up#and derek doesn’t want that#derek fucking hale ladies and gentlemen#always putting others first (x)
You have to learn not to trust the fox. They’ll fool you. They’ll fool everyone.
Sterek AU | based on the fic It’s been like years since it’s been clear
Summary: It’s six-thirty in the morning, but there are warm lights behind the floor-to-ceiling, de-boarded windows, and the ‘For Sale’ sign on the door has disappeared along with Stiles’ memory of where he’d been headed just moments before. The coffee shop is, apparently, open for business once more.
(halffizzbin asked for Stiles rubbing Derek’s shoulders; I obliged. Thanks to billtheradish, fleete, and clio-jlh for their help and encouragement!)
"I’m—Peter might be making it up." Derek says, looking a little wild around the eyes. Stiles can’t really blame him.
On the other side of the desk, Deaton is already shaking his head. “No, it’s real enough. I was the one who performed the ritual with your mother when your grandmother passed. Did Laura not—”
"We didn’t have any other pack members," Derek says. "So, no."
"I see." Deaton steeples his fingers. "Well, yes, the role of officiant would fall to you, Stiles, as the pack’s human and its magus. Traditionally—"
"Yeah, Peter said—" Stiles chokes on the words, because otherwise he’ll start laughing and he won’t be able to stop. "I have to design the ceremony? With—things of personal significance? So he hopes Derek likes World of Warcraft?"
"I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something," Deaton says. "Now, you must excuse me—I have to get back to Mr. Wiggles."
hi im sorry i don’t know what this is i hope it qualifies as domestic sterek stuff
“Dude,” says Stiles, and Derek swears, whirling around to face him.
“God, I hate it when you do that,” snaps Derek. He kicks the laundry basket over, which Stiles watches, unabashedly amused.
He grins toothily. “You know I’m only doing it to even the scales. Doin’ laundry?”
Derek rolls his eyes, slams the dryer shut. “No, I’m playing canasta,” he grumbles.
ladies all across the world
listen up, we’re looking for recruits
if you’re with me, lemme see your hands
stand up and s a l u t e