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  1. Public Bookmark 34

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    Summary

    “This is the worst proposal. Ever.”

     

    Derek ignores him. He’s looking at the ring.

    It is winter and there is a proposal. By all accounts it is a bad one.

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    05 Sep 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “You said,” Derek tells him slowly, “springtime.”

    “We—I, yeah, but I—” Stiles anticipatorily stops himself midsentence. Then he leans in, presses his lips against Derek’s. It seems sudden and unnatural in theory, but in practice it unwinds them both a little bit. “It can happen early,” he reasons hoarsely.

    “You’re impatient,” Derek informs him. Quiet and knowing.

    “Like, okay, either way we were planning on, you know,” Stiles shrugs, more of a flop than a shrug. “I mean, I was planning.”

    Derek reminds him, “I was planning, too.” If Stiles’ faulty memory functioned as it should, he’d recall that Derek was the first to bring it up; but that was some time ago.

    “Okay.” Stiles is smirking now, like an idiot, eyes down at his ring box. “We were planning. So, what’s the—” He looks up at Derek again. “What’s the holdup?”

    Derek has no answer, if he’s honest. It’s just that when something makes this much sense, he likes to leave it alone. He likes to let it make sense unfettered. To avoid answering the question, he asks, “What’s the rush?”

    Lots of other people would reasonably hear Derek’s answer and think he’s deflecting because he wants to say no; but Stiles doesn’t seem to think anything of the sort. He takes the question at face value, as intended.

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    After running into Stiles at the late night movies, Derek realises just how badly Stiles is handling the post-nogitsune fallout. He knows the feeling.

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    18 Jul 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you off with your pack?”

    “You are my pack,” Derek told him, his irritation surging. “And I don’t want anything from you, I just want to help you, okay? Is that really such a foreign concept for you to grasp? Because it shouldn’t be; god knows you’ve sacrificed everything of yourself to help everyone else.”

    Stiles’ mouth dropped open and he glared at Derek. “Are you… are you blaming me?”

    Shrugging with concerted casualness, Derek took a drink from his glass. “Of course not. You’re doing a pretty great job of it all on your own; what would I have to contribute that’s new?”

    “Fuck you,” Stiles spat. “You have no idea, Derek, no idea, okay?”

    “Of course I don’t,” Derek said instantly, his own voice rising to match Stiles’, “because you won’t tell me anything.”

    “What do you want to hear, huh?” Stiles snarled, pressing his trembling hands flat to the table, the muscles in his shoulders bunching with tension. He smelled like fear. “You want to hear about the guilt? About how I sometimes find myself daydreaming about killing Allison and smiling because I remember liking it? About how Lydia won’t return any of my calls, and Scott won’t look me in the fucking eyes, let alone be in the same room alone with me? About how my own god damn father is afraid of me?” His voice wobbled, cracked. “Would that make you feel better about your failure to fix me? I’m so broken I may as well be ground to dust, Derek. You can’t fucking fix this.”

    “You think you have a monopoly on grief?” Derek roared back, hating the self-pity Stiles was wallowing in because he recognised it so well. “Your dad is afraid for you, you idiot-- you’re so removed from yourself you’re practically disassociating, and I get why, okay, I do. Scott and Lydia are grieving too, and neither of them want to add to your burden by forcing you to witness them doing it. And at least you have the admittedly-fucked up benefit of knowing that you weren’t actually the one who killed Allison; I have to live with knowing that I killed my entire family. I have to live with that every day. I have to deal with you and the rest of the pack in my face every day trying to fix me too, because that’s what pack does, Stiles, and you know that almost better than the rest of them.

    “You are loved so deeply and so dearly, and by so many people that you don’t have the luxury of trying to run us all off because you don’t think you’re worthy of that love, or that forgiveness, irrespective of the fact that you have nothing to be guilty of. Did it ever occur to you that part of the healing the rest of us needs it so see you healed too? Are you deliberately being selfish, or are you just too deep in your own head to see how your actions are affecting the rest of us?”

    “I am not responsible for anyone else’s happiness,” Stiles snapped.

    “Then add it to the list of other shit you’re not responsible for, beginning with the nogitsune’s actions and ending with whatever is in your head right now.”

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “We should get married.”
    “Hmm?” Stiles said distractedly, a pen between his teeth as he scrolled.
    “Stiles,” Derek said patiently, “we should get married.”
    Finally hearing him, Stiles turned his head and spat his pen into his hand. “Okay?”
    “If anything happens to me, everything I have, all my money and property and the cars all go to Peter. If we got married, it would go to you. Peter would hate that.”
    Stiles snorted. “Sure, dude, just let me know the date and time and I’ll be there.”
    They grinned at each other as the sound of something breaking came from Peter’s room, and that was that.

     

     

     

    OR that time Derek proposed and Stiles agreed but he was the only one who thought it was a joke.

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    15 Jul 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Seemingly without his implicit approval Stiles’ freed hand moved of its own volition to trace his fingertips carefully over Derek’s top lip, the corner of his mouth and over his hair-covered chin. He froze as Derek shifted a little and rumbled so deep within his chest it was almost subsonic, but felt his heart thump extra hard when Derek tilted his chin up a little, a tentative invitation that left Stiles literally breathless.

    He trailed his fingers down Derek’s chin with aching slowness, along the sharp edge of his jaw and then down further to his throat, terrified of misstepping or having misread the situation, but Derek just huffed a soft breath out and let his eyes drop closed as Stiles curved his hand around the back of his neck so his thumb could caress the pale, delicate skin that covered his Adam’s apple in a gentle rhythm.

    The trust inherent in the gesture made Stiles swallow convulsively, a loud click in the otherwise silent room that made Derek grin lazily as he watched Stiles from beneath eyelids only half open.

  4. Public Bookmark 77

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    Derek's repairing broken things, Stiles is determined not to be one of them.

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    25 Jun 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “I wanted you to want to.”

    Stiles freezes. “What?” He looks up at Derek, eyes searching and ready to detect the slightest hint of bullshit. “Since when?”

    Derek’s thought about this, and thought about this. Because he knew telling Stiles, that was ending this, and there’s no part that’s going to be unclear to either of them once this is through.

    “Since you dove into the front of a police car and told me you weren’t afraid of me. Being around you is — clarity. I know who I am. I know who I want to be. I’m understood and I have never had that with anyone.” Not that Derek knew it then but that’s the common thread around Stiles, something he hadn’t realized he was missing until he was no longer missing it. Maybe that’s why Derek hadn’t questioned this, because Stiles has always felt so much like an answer to him. “It’s — Seeing you so lost… You anchor me, and I don’t anchor you. I want to.”

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    John Stilinski would like it noted, for the record, that this werewolf business is bullshit.
    He would also sleep better if he wasn't so perceptive.

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    11 Jun 2018

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    John thought this werewolf business was bullshit back when it wore a leather jacket, a resting bitch face, and Stiles couldn’t keep his eyes off it, and he thinks it’s still bullshit now when it wears a v-neck, a smirk, and Stiles spends way too much time researching alongside it.