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This Might Help - My entries for the Keysmashblog Fix-It Challenge

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First Derek-huff of the season. Epic.




With absolutely no regard for other people’s property, Scott threw himself into scratching at the door, paint flying all around him.

Stiles watched from inside the burned out hallway, his right hand on the bump on the back of his head; that bump was simply huge. It still hurt, and it was still a bump. He was just checking to make sure it hadn’t, in some wondrous way, just gone away during the last five minutes.

“Dude, dude, Derek went all-out, here, he even took the time to choose a pretty color. Why are you destroying his work?”

“What is this? What is it? What is this?” Scott’s frenzied work left no room for actual conversation.

As the paint fell away, Derek donned that frozen fuck-my-life-I-hate-teenagers-face that Stiles hadn’t seen for months. And then he huffed, accompanying the huff with an epic eye-roll.

“I finally get started on redecorating, and all you can do is tear shit down, Scott. Yes, it’s an alpha sign. They are here. A whole pack of them. I was redecorating to accommodate them, give them a happy place in which to meet up.”

Stiles cracked up, looking from Derek to Scott, and back again, and then said, “Oh, man, Derek, did you stumble upon a pot-full of wise-cracks in the forest this summer? Or is this just your normal unicorns-and-rainbows-sunny-disposition? Should we start to worry seriously about you?”

“This is my happy place. Don’t diss it. I finally found the right color, and everything.”

Stiles realized, in that very moment, that he was in love.



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SE03EP02 - Chaos Rising

Derek is thinking. Hard.




Derek can’t stop thinking of Stiles in those rubber gloves. The sound when Stiles pinched the side of one of them and let go still rattles around in his head. It took him to a different mind space altogether. And in combination with the vivid image of how Stiles usually sleeps with his ass in the air, Derek is getting a serious headache.

Peter has already commented twice on how good that butt looks, especially when the rest of Stiles is quiet, (and when did Peter ever see Stiles sleeping, anyway?), but Derek… Derek kind of likes Stiles best when he is awake. When he is doing his thing. Smiling at Derek, and blinking at Derek in that silly, silly Stiles-way.

The one that makes Derek feel like he might be special, after all.

Which, of course, he isn’t, which should be a well-established fact by now.

Yeah, Derek can safely confirm that he’s head over ass (huh) for Stiles. Not that he’s going to do anything about it, because every time he thinks about it, his mind just falls into the black hole of Kate…

Derek is leaning against his huge table, with Stiles right beside him, studying all the blueprints of the bank. Stiles is right there, by his side, and Derek realizes that this is where Stiles always is. By happenstance, Stiles is always right beside Derek.

So when Peter walks in, and Stiles straightens up, suddenly on full alert, Derek really doesn’t like it at all. He wants Stiles to feel safe. What Derek really wants is to protect the young ones in his pack, especially those who are weaker. Erica and Boyd need saving, for sure, but Stiles? Stiles needs protection more than anyone else in the pack.

Peter walks up to the table, to see what they are all doing.

“Can someone kill him again, please?”
Stiles’ deadpans are what they are. Sheer brilliance.

Derek realizes, in that very moment, that he is in love.



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SE03EP03 - Fireflies

Isaac is in a world of trouble.




“Did that actually just work?” Isaac looks completely stunned.

Peter leans back against the doorjamb, and says, “That worked!”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the plan.” Derek is panting hard.

Peter looks up at him, and says, “Your plans never work. That’s why this one worked. It wasn’t your plan.”

Derek sighs, looking more deflated than pissed. His plan may not have been the one that worked, but they managed to contain the problem. Both Cora and Boyd are lying in a heap at his feet. Alive.

“Don’t be an ass, Peter.”

“Oh, but Nephew, that’s such a natural state for me.”

Peter is slowly working his way toward the exit, he clearly doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, as his experience with upsetting Derek is that it can be quite disruptive for his health. He has no death wish, thank you very much. Especially as the young beta is still in the room. The one he wants so bad his whole being hurts.

Isaac is looking back and forth between them across the room, and when he draws a breath to speak up, Peter and Derek both turn around, as if on cue, and say, “Don’t,” and “Shut up.”

So he doesn't. And he shuts up. But catching Peter’s eye, he is shocked to see the man wink at him.

Peter starts moving toward Isaac, saying in a monotonous voice, “Don’t ever let your mind stop your body from having a good time.” And then he turns his mega-watt smile on Isaac. They boy is defenseless.

Isaac realizes, in that very moment, that he is in love.



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SE03EP04 - Unleashed

Stay a while, desolate walker—Isaac is wandering around Beacon Hills.





Young. A little bit dirty. Huge eyes that had clearly seen too much. Dark grey circles under his eyes that showed how very little he had slept that week. Or month. Or how unrestful that sleep must have been.
A Botticelli-pretty face, a sweet angel of a boy.
His name? Isaac. He said he didn’t know how far he’d been walking, nor whence he came. His face was blank, void, with absolutely no expression at all. He looked haunted.




When Peter passed him on that rain-blasted road, he just drove past, wondering who could possibly be foolish enough to go for walks on a night like that; he hadn’t recognized him at all. Beacon Hills was a small town, and newcomers were few and far between. Besides, it was really raining a lot. Peter hated the rain, how it would pour through his carefully arranged hair, into his eyes, down the neck of his shirt, down his spine, and then straight into his pants. How that always would make him feel cold all over. Chilled to the bone.

Cold was never a good look on Peter.

This boy didn’t even have a hat or a cap. His dirty-blond hair was slicked to his cranium in wet curls, and he looked a little bit like a drowned kitten. Peter liked kittens, don't diss the wolf; you just can’t leave kittens out in the rain. It's simply not done. After some twenty yards, he stepped on his brakes, and turned his car around, driving back to see if the boy was okay.

“Hey there, need a ride?” Peter smiled his nicest, most friendly smile, hoping to help. That’s when he realized that it was actually Isaac walking down the forest road, in the pouring rain.

“Thanks, I’m good.”

“But it’s raining.”

“I know. I’m wet. That’s how I know.”

Peter didn’t know for sure, because it was so fast, and was so quickly lost again—but he was almost certain that that was a smile.

The boy had a sense of humor. None of the people Peter frequented these days (hardly what one would call friends) had a sense of humor. Peter’s dry wit just went way over everyone’s head. Derek mostly growled, it was what he always did, so no surprises there. Boyd and Erica were so wrapped up in each other and their look-at-the-amazing-me-I’m-a-werewolf-stuff that they were no fun at all either. Stiles and Scott? Never mind, let’s not even go there.

This boy might just be what Peter needed, he had always liked Isaac for his calm. And his pretty face. Peter could tell he also had ésprit. Excellent.

“Come on, get in, I’ll drive you to wherever it is you’re going, and you can dry up a bit.”

“Thanks, but I’ll just mess up your car.”

“Have you seen the crappy car I’m driving? Do you honestly think you could mess it up any worse?”

The boy stopped walking, and turned completely toward Peter. “You’re right. Having me in there would actually raise its street value a whole notch. Maybe even bump it up by two whole dollars.” With that, he walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and slid into the seat in one sensual movement. The boy had elegance.

Peter remained in his seat, quiet, looking at Isaac, and completely at a loss for words, eyes wide. He had not expected sass. At all.

“What? Aren’t I allowed to joke too? Is that your prerogative? Your car, your jokes? That would suck major donkey balls, you know.” The boy’s eyebrows were pulled tight together, and if his face hadn’t been so fair in coloring, he would have looked exactly like Derek.


A blond Derek. For-the-mother-fucking-win.

And just like that, Peter folded in half, screaming with laughter, hitting his right fist to the steering wheel, and saying, “Dear boy, you are coming with me. Where are you going? Please say you’ll stay a couple of days… Or more? Please!”

“Okay.” His soft answer and downcast eyes had Peter choking on his own laughter, turning serious. And reaching out with his right hand.

“Hello. Shall we start over? I’m Peter.”

“Yeah, sure." Isaac grabbed his hand, giving it a firm shake. "You know I’m Isaac. I’m not exactly going anywhere. I just got kicked out, and I’m kind of drifting, but I don’t know whether I have arrived. It’s frustrating. And complicated.”

“Well, then, Isaac. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you have arrived. To my place. Stay with me. I’m all about complicated. You’ll fit right in, buddy.” Suddenly he had a flash of complete illumination.

Because Peter realized, in that very moment, that he was in love.





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SE03EP05 - Frayed

The bloodied hand.




Because Ms Blake always walks the school corridors at all hours, day or night? Even after having been almost torn to pieces by werewolves? Because, werewolves?


 Because she was finally free for the day, all the kids away on some school lacrosse meet?

 Yeah, that too.

 And because she always sat a second too long in her car before taking off?

 Yeah, most definitely.

 Probably also because she had no place better to be?


 That’s why she was right there when Derek fell on her driver’s window. What the story didn’t tell, however, is what in the whole world Derek was doing there.

 Not that it mattered much, in any way shape or form, as Derek crashed to the ground, blood spilling everywhere.

 Because she realized, in that very moment, that she was in love.





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SE03EP06 - Motel California

The muddled mind.




I don’t trust her. I feel queezy. Did she drug me? Why are my wounds healing now, and why were they not healing before?

Who is this woman, and why is she kissing me? Rather, what is she, and why am I kissing her back?

What did she say? Did she just compliment my physique? Does she realize I’m close to dying? I feel like a piece of meat. I feel myself frowning even as I’m kissing her.

What is happening? She talks like Stiles, she has no filter, it just seems to go through her head and straight out her mouth at the same time.

I don’t like this, I don’t like being this out of control. Out of my comfort zone. Everyone around me… Everyone gets hurt. Especially me. Where is Stiles when you need him?

A violent shudder goes through Derek, and he rushes to his feet. Jennifer falls to the floor in front of him.

Because Derek realizes, in that very moment, that he is in love with Stiles. But he’s making out with Ms Blake.


Enter Emo-Angst Derek. Why hello, there. It’s been a while.

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SE03EP07 - Currents

The dying mind.




Boyd felt it coming. He actually welcomed it, as the pain he’d felt those last weeks had been overwhelming. The loneliness, the feeling of intense loss.

“Derek.” Boyd’s voice was feeble and rough. “Derek. Listen to me. Erica…” Boyd coughed, a terrible rasping sound leaving his pierced lungs, and then tried to take yet another shallow breath. “Listen to me, Derek. It was worth it. All of it. Finally belonging. It was worth it.”

Derek was breaking down in front of him. Boyd thought he might be dreaming, because surely Derek wouldn’t be this upset about him dying? But the evidence was right there, Derek in tears. His alpha, in tears, repeating the words, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

Boyd had never seen Derek in tears before, and as he reached a shaking hand toward his alpha, he felt Erica’s voice echoing in his head, he felt her voice, slowly singing out a Welcome home Boyd, come to me, Boyd, it’s all right, Boyd, let go, Boyd, come.

Because Boyd realized, in that very moment, that he was in love, and going home to Erica.


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SE03EP08 - Visionary


The color of your fur


It’s the world’s best plan.

Talia howls, both in greeting and as a message that she is coming.

Her black fur is glistening with drops from the light rain that fell earlier in the evening, and she know she makes a magnificent picture as she trots into the old distillery. She growls and shows her teeth, more for show, and then straightens her back to shift into her human form.

She is a stunning, dark beauty. The shimmer of red leaves her eyes as she watches the gathered packs. Her gaze comes to rest on Deucalion. His eyes are firmly locked on hers, but she can sense how he is taking in the whole of her glorious body.

Where his eyes do not wander, Talia’s skin still shivers.

She watches Deucalion’s face as she waits for Laura to put the robe over her shoulders, and sees the confirmation there.

This meeting can begin. It will change the outcome of everything.

Because Talia realizes, in that very moment, that she is finally in love again, after all these years as a widow.


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SE03EP09 - The Girl Who Knew Too Much


The silver queen


Listen, Jeff, there are only so many supernatural creatures left in Ireland. You need to save some for the rest of the season. Maybe even for a Season Four, you hear me?

And now this, with Lydia. The only girl who seems to do what she wants. Also sexually. What a relief that has been. But, sheesh, I don't even know where to go with this one, a Banshee? I mean, seriously?

I can't work with that.

I was going to go with Allison Argent, the silver queen. But honestly? It's always just about her DAD BLAZING HIS GUNS.

No story coming out of me this week, I'm just mega bummed. And not just because, Banshee. But also because you keep killing off the ladies. Especially the ones of color. It is pissing me off. Big time.

I am not a happy teen wolf fan right now. Sorry guys. No story this week. I tried. I really tried. I can't with this.


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SE03EP10 - The Overlooked


This season is a clusterfuck.


Again, women are either bitches or dead. I’m getting so tired of this shit. And Jennifer is KILLING PEOPLE. That’s not being a “bitch” that is being an asshole murderer.

Again, Chris Argent and his blazing fucking guns.

Why nobody thought of calling Deaton to hear what he has to say about how to save Cora is beyond me. It’s not like he’s an EMISSARY or anything, right? Gaah.

And Cora is puking black goo, right? How come her mouth is all CLEAN AND PRETTY minutes later? Whereas Gerard looks like YUCK all the time, with black oozing blood all over his face? Oh, maybe it’s because she’s a GUURRRL, and she needs to be pretteh?


Jennifer did a telling (not showing) huge amount of info-dumping on us, appropriating stories from my Norse heritage. Pissed me off, again.

So, yeah, guys. No story coming out of me this week either. I’m getting fed-up.

I’d like to Plan B this whole season and step directly into Season 4.

Because Stiles and I just need to find his dad. And we want to know his dad’s name.

The only thing that is saving us is Dylan O’Brien. His acting floors me.