i need that no soliciting one.
Those third and eighth ones though. Brilliantly passive-aggressive.
there’s a stop sign near my house that says ‘hammer time’ at the bottom
I need a Recombobulation Area in my house. I would use it every day.
Uh. So. I don’t watch Teen Wolf, but I’m not the only one that sees Derek/Stiles here, right?
When he was younger, probably six or seven, he accidentally broke his older cousin’s wrist. Even without his heightened hearing, he could clearly hear the sound of bone breaking, and cartilage rubbing against one another. His mother had given them ice cream cones. Jake dropped his. Derek laughed. Then Jake stole his. Which caused Derek try and grab it and then…
It was so long ago, but that moment refused to leave his mind, trailing after him all his life as a constant reminder that he must always be in control. That to forget what he his, to deny his very nature can hold catastrophic consequences on those around.
A hard lesson learned, is a hard lesson to forget.
But then comes along Stiles; stubborn, passionate, weak and yet so strong, Stiles. And he does the unbelievable- because that’s just what he does - and he destroys Derek’s control. Renders it totally obsolete and irrelevant.
He does it sneakily too, a hidden attack because anything else would be too easy, and Stiles thrives on fighting against the current as opposed to just ‘going with the flow.’
He attacks Derek, with his words and his smell and his loyalty and his stupidity, because you have to be stupid to egg on a werewolf like Stiles does. Then he mends, heals, with soft touches and loving glances and unrepentant understanding and his offering of everything he has to give, and some of what he doesn’t. And when he has Derek right where he wants him…he moves in for the kill.
Stiles would make an excellent predator. And unorthodox one, but excellent nonetheless because Derek didn’t even see it coming.
The softness turns hard, and the loving glances morph into desire and longing, and Derek is ashamed to say that he just can’t fight against it.
So he gives up, and gives in. Into Stiles’ siren call that beckons him to let go, to be free and untamed. Allows himself to be dragged in. Listens to the demands of ‘more,’ ‘harder,’ and ‘don’t hold back.’ Unleashes the fire within him that Stiles (for whatever ungodly reason) wants to play and bask in.
When they wake up the lapse of Derek’s control is littered on Stiles’ body in the form of bruises, bite marks and fine red lines courtesy of his claws. His mortification and self loathing has reached a new peak, and he hurriedly dresses intent on fleeing, when Stiles calls to him. Its the same call that Derek is powerless to fight against, so he comes, like a puppy to his master’s side.
He’s prepared for the horror and hate, not for Stiles’ gleeful laugh or his hands caressing his face or the particularly sinful kiss Stiles blesses him with.
“Where are you going,” he murmurs lethargically against his mouth, breaking this kiss only to speak before returning to devouring Derek’s lips.
He responds with a helpless, “nowhere,” because Derek now knows that he will never be capable of leaving. Not when he’s finally found the person that accepts him; all of him and his nature.
Stiles can only smirk. “Good.”
“From the moment he walked into the room, it was clear he just had something special, and I defy anyone not to notice it the minute he walks on screen as well.” - Sam Mendes, Directer of Road to Perdition.
we still notice, although perhaps for other, less pure reasons