This guy will always remember that one shift where this crazy guy showed up, cracked open an egg, grabbed him by the shirt and demanded pie
This will forever be the most ridiculous destiel scene of S8. Not the hug. Not 8x08. This. Because Cas is like FUCK i can fix this i can fix this okay he likes jerky and this specific kind of porn and he uses the bathroom right? and okay i’ve seen him drink this beer now i need pie where’s the pie *grabs cashier* YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I NEED PIE I CAN FIX ALL OF THIS AND DEAN WILL LOVE ME AND NOT BE MAD AT ME IF I CAN JUST DO THIS RIGHT AND HE’LL COME HOME AND I’LL BE THERE WITH BEER AND PIE AND WE’LL TALK AND I’LL EXPLAIN THAT I DID IT TO PROTECT HIM BECAUSE I DO EVERYTHING TO PROTECT HIM AND-
i’m hyperventilating rn. i’ll see myself out.
Reblogging because of the photoset and because of THIS ^
I completely agree. This is the most EVIDENT Destiel scene EVER.
So this just happened on Facebook.
aLL THE FUCKING AWARDS
THANK
(Source: sketch-ass-arachno-fondler)
jealous!derek - sterek fic
this one got away from me…more jealous!andpossessive!Derek
It’s not that Derek’s jealous per se, it’s more that Stiles is just completely oblivious to the effect he has on people, completely underestimates his own appeal. He’s loosened up somewhat since high school, though, since he’s dated a few different people, been in a couple of short term relationships. But he still has this tendency to think it’s out of desperation, or pity, or some crazy happenstance.
And you know, not the fact that he’s become six feet of long legs, broad shoulders, strong toned arms and a mouth both perfect open, closed, pouting, or wrapped around…
They’re at a party, a loud, crowded affair, the birthday for a friend of a friend of Stiles’ that Derek ended up dragged out to despite his many and varied protests, because he was up visiting Stiles on campus for the weekend and apparently he’d made ‘promises.’
“We can have sex later,” Stiles reasons and Derek just gives him a huffy and annoyed glare as Stiles tugs at the neck of the shirt he’s wearing, rolls his shoulders and straightens the material around his slender hips. Derek weeps internally for the night that could have been, locked up alone in Stiles’ tiny dorm, roommate gone. They’d nearly broken the crappy metal frame of his bed the last time and Derek is pretty sure one more good fuck would do it…But Stiles is slinking his hand in Derek’s and pulling him out the door.
Bahama Honeymoon - sterek fic
So this is inspired by this dale cooper video (nsfw) that this beautiful individual sent me (but I wasn’t sure if their Dale love was on the DL so I blocked the name)
this is a cracky continuation of Bahama Wolf
Derek gets drunk for the first time at their wedding, thanks to 100% proof alcohol and a very mild form of wolfsbane Stiles discovers their junior year of college. They don’t know what kind of drunk he’s going to be and Stiles has a brief moment of panic thinking he’ll get depressive and moody, and then suddenly he’s doing the foxtrot with his father on the dance floor and bench pressing a half dozen of the younger cousins all stacked in a mess together.
They head for their honeymoon immediately after the reception, pop champagne in the sleek stretch limousine on the way to the airport, Derek sucking kisses into his neck, fingering the ring on Stiles’ finger and grinning fiercely into his flushed skin.
On the plane, Stiles discovers how much Derek wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was a nervous flier, and Stiles wonders how he managed it the last trip he took. He pops a couple tablets out of the ambien bottle, the little capsules filled with wolfsbane instead. Derek takes three and Stiles grins at him, keeps the alcohol coming.
been too long
kdsjfdsfvhdsasjddsjfSKDUGDFGDF I’M GOING OUT IN LIKE FIVE MINUTES BUT I COULDN’T NOT DO THIS AND I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND CAME HOME EARLY, THAT’S SO LOVELY <3333
~*~
Stiles is cranky. He would try and point out that it’s not for a Derek related reason but, at this point, who’s he even trying to kid? He’s getting ridiculously ansty. It’s not that he’s mad at Derek, he could never be. He knew exactly what he was getting into when he signed up for spending his life with a marine.
Prompt fill: Roman Legionnaire!Derek and Celt!Stiles.
cas... buddy... i need you: deanlorean: Number 23 calls him ‘Cas’, and the angel blade clatters to...
Number 23 calls him ‘Cas’, and the angel blade clatters to the ground from numb fingers. You have to kill that one yourself, and it takes three other angels to hold Castiel back.
Number 108 kisses him, hard and rough and possessive, and Castiel disappears. You find him two…
(Source: crackedchassis)
When South Dakota legalizes guns in classrooms.
Derek doesn’t know if he’s doing the right thing. He understands he can’t just break the rule like this and Laura’s gonna be pissed. But it’s not like he has any other options.
SUPERWOLF: In which Derek died, and his soul went to Purgatory.Turns out Derek had been gone for a lot longer than he’d thought. He doubted anyone would wait four years for him, especially not someone like Stiles. Sure, Stiles would never stop loving him, but he’d gone through death before. He knew what it was like, knew that you could only mourn for so long before you had to get up and go on with your life. That was okay, though, because Derek just wanted to see Stiles, wanted to apologize for dying, to at least properly tell him goodbye. If worst came to worst, Derek could always die again and go right back to purgatory, right?
Only, Derek had no idea if he could do that, not now, not standing an aisle down from Stiles, just hearing his voice as he bickered with Erica, of all people, about if they should pinch pennies on coffee or spend the extra money for a better quality. His voice alone sent Derek’s heart into a frenzy, made his senses go wild to reach out, to search for the source of that voice, to hold him and kiss him and mutter hundreds of thousands of apologies.
Erica fell silent, and Derek knew the exact second he’d been scented because her gasp was audible even to human ears.
Derek had to resist the urge to walk away, to leave the store before they rounded the aisle and came face to face with him. If he ran now, he would keep running, would keep hiding. He didn’t go through a near-literal Hell with Dean Winchester and co. just to hide. He had done all of this for Stiles, for this second chance to see him at least one last time.
Erica flew into the aisle, disbelief on her face and Stiles’ wrist in one of her hands. She wasn’t wolfed out—there was no replicating the scent of your alpha, after all—and the color on her face seemed to drain out.
“Derek?” she croaked.
The tub of coffee in Stiles’ hand hit the ground with a loud clatter, spilling grinds everywhere. Derek lifted his head, a tiny pull in the corner of his mouth. Gods, he just wanted to smile and drag them both into his arms. He didn’t really know how much he’d missed them until they were here, in his line of sight with their scents filling his nose and their heartbeats roaring in his ears.
Derek realized he hadn’t replied, had remained silent in lieu of staring and taking them in—afraid to touch. Stiles was rigid, his breathing erratic and his knuckles white in the hand that was clutching to Erica’s jacket, tugging on it like she could tell Stiles if what he was seeing was real or not.
“It’s been a while,” Derek managed to say, because it would be hard to explain the schematics of purgatory and making deals with hunters in a grocery store full of civilians.
Derek locked eyes with Stiles, and he felt his voice soften. “I missed you.”
Stiles dragged in a shuddering breath, his eyelids twitching but not fully blinking, like he was afraid that closing them just for a second would make Derek disappear.
“Erica,” Stiles said, weak and desperate as he pulled insistently on her jacket.
“It’s him, Stiles,” Erica said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how, but it’s him.”
Apparently that was all Stiles needed to hear. The coffee tin rolled when his foot kicked it, grinds going everywhere as Stiles stumbled forward. Derek didn’t wait for Stiles to reach him, surging forward and meeting him half way.
“Derek!” Stiles sobbed, slamming into him and throwing his arms around Derek’s shoulders. Derek dragged Stiles into his chest, clutching to him as tightly as he knew a human body could take. He buried his face into Stiles’ throat, inhaling his scent and strangling back a sob of his own when the achingly familiar smell hit him like a two ton truck.
Derek trembled, knees going so weak that he had to step back and press up against one of the shelves just to keep upright. Stiles’ fingers curled into his jacket, chest heaving like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Derek brought a hand up, curling it around the back of Stiles’ head, his fingers digging in to the base where his hair had grown out since he’d last seen Stiles.
“I’m sorry,” Derek breathed into Stiles’ skin, repeating it over and over again as they clung to each other, uncaring if anyone saw. “I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.”
“You’re alive!” Stiles cried, “how the fuck are you alive?!”
Derek started to rub Stiles’ back, wanting to sooth away the frantic breathing and heartbeat. He kissed at whatever skin he could find without pulling away. “I’ll tell you later, I promise. I swear.”
“Don’t go again, please,” Stiles tugged on Derek’s jacket, and then hugged him harder. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, I’m staying. I’m so sorry,” Derek assured, and God, he had missed this. He’d never fight again if it meant he could keep this moment forever, if he could have hundreds more like it.
“Okay—” Stiles choked out, shaking down to his very bones, “Okay, okay.” It was a mantra, Stiles telling himself over and over again that it was okay, that things were okay and that this was happening.
“I missed you,” Derek repeated, rubbing Stiles’ back more firmly, “I came back for you.”
Stiles pulled away, just enough to stare at him incredulously. “I—do I want to know?”
Derek cupped his face, used his thumbs to brush away the tear tracks on Stiles’ cheeks. Stiles closed his eyes and pressed his face into the touch, brought his hands up to clutch at Derek’s wrists and trap them there. “I’ll tell you later, I promise,” Derek assured. Stiles swallowed, nodding and opening his eyes.
“You have to keep it, this time,” Stiles said vehemently, “you’re not allowed to break any more promises,” his voice cracked on the last word, and Derek knew exactly what he was thinking of.
I’m just going to run him out of town. It’ll take an hour, tops. I’ll be back before dinner.
Promise?
Promise.
Derek pressed their foreheads together. “I won’t,” he assured, tilting his head and pressing their mouths together in a soft kiss. Stiles released a quiet, broken noise, sobbing Derek’s name into his mouth and kissing back desperately. Derek knew in that moment that he could never lose this again.
This time, he’d do anything to stay alive—if only to keep from ever hearing that sound escape Stiles ever again.
(Source: trollian-dungeon)
bigger, longer and uncut by drunktuesdays
“He has a nightmare where Allison shoots him with a wolfsbane arrow in the crotch and he has to cut his own dick off, and Stiles stops sleeping with him. Dream-him is much more pissed about that than losing his dick, which awake-Derek’s not sure he agrees with.”
