TheOnesWeHail



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    “Okay,” Stiles leans over the book, finger on his chin, while Derek stands there beside him with a frown on his face, “we have the pig’s blood.”

    “They loved that at the butcher shop,” Derek mutters, rubbing his hand along his jaw. “I’ll take three quarts of pig’s blood. Not like this town doesn’t already think I’m some sort of fucking pervert anyway.”

    “We have the hair you picked off his clothes,” Stiles points to the tiny Ziploc bag with a handful of Scott hairs tucked safely inside, and Derek grimaces. “We have the candles. We have the snake. Now we just need an object of the deceased.” He furrows his brow as he leans over the book some more, cocking his head. “It says the object can be anything that was deeply personal to the deceased. Like a piece of sentimental jewelry or a cherished trinket or even a favorite song.”

    Derek snorts. “Yeah. Let’s just listen to fucking Blink-182 and summon the devil.”

    “Right?” Stiles laughs, high and hysterical, manic almost.

    Derek laughs, and Stiles laughs, and it’s not funny. It’s really not funny.

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    21 May 2018

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    “Just go in and buy him something and attach a note that says, like, I don’t know,” she flips a curl over her shoulder, “let’s bone.”

    Derek looks up at the sky and purses his lips. Doesn’t dignify that with a response. There’s no way in hell Derek is going to attach some dinky little note to Stiles’ gift that is either as crass as Erica’s suggestion or as humiliating as something he could come up with himself – no fucking way in hell.

    But she does have a point. Stiles’ birthday is coming and Derek is shit out of luck and shit out of ideas for ways to make Stiles see him as anything more than just Derek. The way Stiles looks at him sometimes, it’s like he has no fucking idea.

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    21 May 2018

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    Derek is suddenly made aware of Stiles in an entirely new and uncomfortable way; specifically, his hands. His wide, strong, clever and dextrous hands.

    Derek is kinda screwed.

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    18 May 2018

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    “We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

    “Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

    “He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

     

    Or the one where Derek gets attacked by hunters, ends up with amnesia and forgets Stiles is his mate

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    18 May 2018

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    The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.
    He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.

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    18 May 2018