bingo!
I filled my bingo card for
beacon_hills
with:
BroTP: Stiles and Scott: 2 sigtags
Favorite character: Stiles: 5 icons
Family: the Stillinskis: 1 wallpaper
Minor character: Gerard: 1 picspam
Werewolf: Derek: 1 tumblr graphic
Crack ship: cracky ficlet (keeping the surprise!)
Female: various female characters: 5 icons
OTP: Stiles/Derek: taekwondo!instructor AU fic
RIP: Allison: 2 sigtags
Teaser:
BroTP: Stiles and Scott: sigtags
Favorite character: Stiles: icons
Family: the Stilinskis: wallpaper
(click for full size: 1440 x 900)
Minor character: Gerard: picspam
(click for full size)
Werewolf: Derek: tumblr graphic
Crack ship: cracky ficlet, 495 words (keeping the surprise! The reveal of the pairing is half the fun ;))
Like every single time before, when they touch each other, no matter how innocently at first, his ability to reason goes out of the window. He's never felt anything so soft, so hot…
Shaking off the longing and the lust, he protests. "You know we can't."
But trying to stop is met with resistance (it's another constant, unfortunately).
"Of course we can, if you'd just let it! You want me, I want you," the bane of his existence protests, cajoling. He always thinks he'll get his way, and the worse is that he's probably right. Surrendering seems more and more inevitable.
"It's not that simple!" He argues vehemently. God, you are so frustrating. "How hard is it to understand that I'm no good for you?"
"Bullshit!"
"I'm bad. I've killed! You're beautiful and warm, innocent. You protect people…"
"Fuck you. I could kill too, don't you dare assume things about me. You're better than that. And you did whatever you had to do to protect people, too, to do what's right!"
"It's not entirely true," he mumbles. He wishes he wasn't responsible for a lot of suffering.
"And how much control did you have over that, huh? It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."
He's enveloped in a warm embrace once more and the words are whispered with so much conviction.
"I wish-" He can't finish the thought out loud. He wishes he could believe him, and that even though they are so different, they could work.
"You're so beautiful," his love whispers. "So sexy."
"You're just drawn to danger," he protests, weakly. God it's so hard to stay strong when engulfed in his scent, their touch borderline electric.
The answering chuckle is fond. "Maybe a little. But I know you secretly long for peace and quiet."
Before he can joke about how unlikely he could have that if they'd be together, they hear Isaac's voice, coming from the living room. "What the hell?"
"What?" Allison replies testily.
"Is there a reason you're basically ripping the couch apart?"
"Don't be ridiculous, I’m not ripping it apart!" Allison says. "I'm just… I can't believe I lost it again. I was so sure it was here!"
"Lost what? An earring?" asks Isaac.
"No! My favorite dagger! I can't find it."
"Oh, that. I'm pretty sure it's with my cashmere scarf on the dresser..."
"Right!" Allison exclaims and they hear her walking towards the door.
"Dammit," Scarf says before tightening a little more around him.
It scares the crap out of Dagger. "Stop, you'll get cut!" he says, panicking. "I couldn't live with myself if I cut you!"
"You would never," Scarf says with confidence. "This is not over, do you understand?"
"Okay. Okay. I love you." He didn't mean to say it, not like that, but it's true and he feels better now that he confessed.
"I love you, too. So much."
As the bedroom door opens, Dagger enjoys every second of Scarf's embrace before they are pulled apart.
The End
(yes, I just wrote a slashy fic involving Allison dagger & Isaac's scarf… crack ship enough? ;))
Female: various female characters icons
OTP: Stiles/Derek: Taekwondo!instructor AU fic
Working title: The one where Derek is a Taekwondo instructor (and his life is very hard)
Pairing/Characters: Stiles/Derek, Sheriff Stilinski
Rating: PG
Words: 1276
Notes: unbetaed for now, and I never took Taekwondo classes (and my karate and self-defense classes were an eternity ago) so please tell me if I made horrible errors 0_0
Derek is in his office placing an order with tkdshop when he hears voices coming from the dojang. Tuesday afternoon are generally quiet, and he isn't expecting anyone since most the students are in school and the adults come later. Derek is holding the place by himself until Laura comes back for the evening classes, so he walks out to investigate.
"I'm not so sure about this," a man says and Derek knows that voice.
It's indeed Sheriff Stilinski, who's looking up at the portraits of the black belts who trained with them over the years. There are several dozens of them, and great fighters at that, which is a point of pride for the Hale Dojang. Stilinski is out of uniform, dressed in sweat pants and a BHPD T-shirt. By his side - back to Derek - there's another guy with dark hair, a lot more slender, who sighs dramatically.
"Come on, Dad! We've had this discussion before."
It's the Sheriff's kid, then.
"I know, but…"
The son talks right over Stilinski. "We discussed, you agreed, -"
The Sheriff interrupts him at his turn. "That's not how I remember it going!"
"Hey, we had a deal. Suck it," come the reply and Derek is surprised that the Sheriff lets his son talk to him that way. Sounds like a real brat
"It's nice to see you, Sheriff," Derek says as he approaches, drawing his visitors' attention.
The Sheriff breaks into a smile and they shake hands. "Derek! Great to see you too, it's been a while."
Meanwhile the son has turned and Derek reevaluates his age to late teens, though it's hard to say, could be a few years more or less. He's cute, though, and just forming the thought makes Derek uncomfortable, even though it's unlikely that the Sheriff will realize he's just ogled his underage son.
"How can I help you today, Sir?"
"My son -" the Sheriff starts but he gets interrupted once again by the kid, who slinks to his side, grinning at Derek with his hand extended.
"Stiles, my name is Stiles. Hi," he says, determined to catch Derek eyes.
Derek shakes hands with him and curses inwardly because another glance shows that Stiles isn't cute, he's gorgeous.
"Derek Hale," he grumbles (it takes a lot of self restraint not stare at that mouth, Jesus). He drops Stiles' hand as soon as it's polite to focus on the Sheriff again.
"Stiles gave me an ultimatum," he says, looking more amused than crossed. "Either I start running with him or I choose my own sport. So here I am."
That's great news. Derek appreciates the Sheriff a lot, who's been nothing but kind to their family since his mom opened the dojang in Beacon Hills 30 years ago. Stilinski regularly sends them teens that are flirting with delinquency instead of having them sentenced to community service or juvie. Some of those kids earned their place on the wall, too, like the inseparable trio of Isaac, Erica and Boyd, who became Derek's close friends in the last six years. Not everyone can be put on the straight and narrow path by discipline and anger redirection, though, but the Sheriff never blamed the Hales for it.
Derek raises an eyebrow, amused at how smug the Sheriff looks at having outsmarted his kid. "I hope you don't think that Taekwondo classes are easier than running."
"Oh, I am aware that my old bones will suffer here," the Sheriff says. "But at least it won't be utterly boring and soul-sucking."
"Hey," Stiles protests. "Running is very good to keep in shape, old man! I'm sure Derek agrees."
"Sure, I run seven miles every day myself," he says with a nod, and Stiles grins as if he won a point. "But it is utterly boring and soul-sucking," Derek can't help to add, just to nag.
"Hey!" Stiles exclaims, then narrows his eyes at Derek while the Sheriff laughs. "I have no idea where or when you run, but it must not be in the good places. There are fantastic trails in the preserve."
"That's true," Derek concedes. "But most days I use the treadmill since I have to keep an eye on this place," he says with a gesture towards the equipment in the fitness corner.
Stiles huffs with amusement. "And this explains that. Treadmills are machines of the devil, and never a substitute to nice outdoor trails. Though frankly, I'm sure I'd enjoy the scenery quite a bit in here, too," Stiles adds with an obvious once over of Derek's person, followed by a wink.
Derek is shocked at the boldness, and he quickly looks at the Sheriff who has drifted away to look at the pictures on the wall some more.
"Is that Erica Reyes?" the Sheriff asks. "Wow, I almost didn't recognize her."
Even if he seems oblivious of it, Derek momentarily panics at the Sheriff's jailbait son hitting on him. The little prick laughs at Derek's discomfort and claps his shoulder, lingering a second too long before walking towards his dad, which flusters Derek even more.
"Oh, yeah, Erica is a real badass. She comes here?" Stiles asks. Derek wonders how come he knows her; it's probably because she just started giving after-school classes at the Beacon Hills High School.
"Yes. She passed her third dan last week, in fact. She's teaching tonight, I'm sure she'd love seeing you again, Sheriff."
"About that… As you are aware I don't have that steady a schedule, if emergencies pop up. How flexible with attendance are the lessons here?"
"Don't worry, we'll make it work," Derek says. "To have good results in fitness, I recommend seventy-five minutes classes at least twice a week. Three times if it's doable for you."
"That's fantastic," Stiles says, nodding. "You know what? I think this is rekindling my thirst for the martial arts."
Derek stomach drops. If Stiles was legal and not the Sheriff's son, having him register for classes and the prospect of seeing him regularly would be the most exciting thing to happen in his life in a while. Things being what they are, though, it feels like trouble with a capital T is about to enter his life.
"I never allowed you to take classes for reasons that I think are still valid," the Sheriff says.
"And you therefore foiled my dream to become a ninja, I know. Thanks, Dad. But excuse you, I'm a lot more graceful and less accident prone that I was in sixth grade. This might be the way to expand my horizons, with the bonus that I'll spend more time doing fun things with you," he tells his father.
The Sheriff's answering smile and the big hug he draws Stiles into is heartwarming. On the other hand, after a second Stiles looks up over the Sheriff's shoulder and winks, again, while waggling his eyebrows at Derek. It clearly advertises that he intends to have "fun" with Derek, too.
Yep. He's screwed.
(The end for now…)
RIP: Allison: sigtags
BTW, it's ok to take something if you like it! :)
This entry was originally posted here on DW, where it has
comments. Comment here or there
beacon_hills
with:
BroTP: Stiles and Scott: 2 sigtags
Favorite character: Stiles: 5 icons
Family: the Stillinskis: 1 wallpaper
Minor character: Gerard: 1 picspam
Werewolf: Derek: 1 tumblr graphic
Crack ship: cracky ficlet (keeping the surprise!)
Female: various female characters: 5 icons
OTP: Stiles/Derek: taekwondo!instructor AU fic
RIP: Allison: 2 sigtags
Teaser:
BroTP: Stiles and Scott: sigtags
Favorite character: Stiles: icons
Family: the Stilinskis: wallpaper
(click for full size: 1440 x 900)
Minor character: Gerard: picspam
(click for full size)
Werewolf: Derek: tumblr graphic
Crack ship: cracky ficlet, 495 words (keeping the surprise! The reveal of the pairing is half the fun ;))
Like every single time before, when they touch each other, no matter how innocently at first, his ability to reason goes out of the window. He's never felt anything so soft, so hot…
Shaking off the longing and the lust, he protests. "You know we can't."
But trying to stop is met with resistance (it's another constant, unfortunately).
"Of course we can, if you'd just let it! You want me, I want you," the bane of his existence protests, cajoling. He always thinks he'll get his way, and the worse is that he's probably right. Surrendering seems more and more inevitable.
"It's not that simple!" He argues vehemently. God, you are so frustrating. "How hard is it to understand that I'm no good for you?"
"Bullshit!"
"I'm bad. I've killed! You're beautiful and warm, innocent. You protect people…"
"Fuck you. I could kill too, don't you dare assume things about me. You're better than that. And you did whatever you had to do to protect people, too, to do what's right!"
"It's not entirely true," he mumbles. He wishes he wasn't responsible for a lot of suffering.
"And how much control did you have over that, huh? It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."
He's enveloped in a warm embrace once more and the words are whispered with so much conviction.
"I wish-" He can't finish the thought out loud. He wishes he could believe him, and that even though they are so different, they could work.
"You're so beautiful," his love whispers. "So sexy."
"You're just drawn to danger," he protests, weakly. God it's so hard to stay strong when engulfed in his scent, their touch borderline electric.
The answering chuckle is fond. "Maybe a little. But I know you secretly long for peace and quiet."
Before he can joke about how unlikely he could have that if they'd be together, they hear Isaac's voice, coming from the living room. "What the hell?"
"What?" Allison replies testily.
"Is there a reason you're basically ripping the couch apart?"
"Don't be ridiculous, I’m not ripping it apart!" Allison says. "I'm just… I can't believe I lost it again. I was so sure it was here!"
"Lost what? An earring?" asks Isaac.
"No! My favorite dagger! I can't find it."
"Oh, that. I'm pretty sure it's with my cashmere scarf on the dresser..."
"Right!" Allison exclaims and they hear her walking towards the door.
"Dammit," Scarf says before tightening a little more around him.
It scares the crap out of Dagger. "Stop, you'll get cut!" he says, panicking. "I couldn't live with myself if I cut you!"
"You would never," Scarf says with confidence. "This is not over, do you understand?"
"Okay. Okay. I love you." He didn't mean to say it, not like that, but it's true and he feels better now that he confessed.
"I love you, too. So much."
As the bedroom door opens, Dagger enjoys every second of Scarf's embrace before they are pulled apart.
The End
(yes, I just wrote a slashy fic involving Allison dagger & Isaac's scarf… crack ship enough? ;))
Female: various female characters icons
OTP: Stiles/Derek: Taekwondo!instructor AU fic
Working title: The one where Derek is a Taekwondo instructor (and his life is very hard)
Pairing/Characters: Stiles/Derek, Sheriff Stilinski
Rating: PG
Words: 1276
Notes: unbetaed for now, and I never took Taekwondo classes (and my karate and self-defense classes were an eternity ago) so please tell me if I made horrible errors 0_0
Derek is in his office placing an order with tkdshop when he hears voices coming from the dojang. Tuesday afternoon are generally quiet, and he isn't expecting anyone since most the students are in school and the adults come later. Derek is holding the place by himself until Laura comes back for the evening classes, so he walks out to investigate.
"I'm not so sure about this," a man says and Derek knows that voice.
It's indeed Sheriff Stilinski, who's looking up at the portraits of the black belts who trained with them over the years. There are several dozens of them, and great fighters at that, which is a point of pride for the Hale Dojang. Stilinski is out of uniform, dressed in sweat pants and a BHPD T-shirt. By his side - back to Derek - there's another guy with dark hair, a lot more slender, who sighs dramatically.
"Come on, Dad! We've had this discussion before."
It's the Sheriff's kid, then.
"I know, but…"
The son talks right over Stilinski. "We discussed, you agreed, -"
The Sheriff interrupts him at his turn. "That's not how I remember it going!"
"Hey, we had a deal. Suck it," come the reply and Derek is surprised that the Sheriff lets his son talk to him that way. Sounds like a real brat
"It's nice to see you, Sheriff," Derek says as he approaches, drawing his visitors' attention.
The Sheriff breaks into a smile and they shake hands. "Derek! Great to see you too, it's been a while."
Meanwhile the son has turned and Derek reevaluates his age to late teens, though it's hard to say, could be a few years more or less. He's cute, though, and just forming the thought makes Derek uncomfortable, even though it's unlikely that the Sheriff will realize he's just ogled his underage son.
"How can I help you today, Sir?"
"My son -" the Sheriff starts but he gets interrupted once again by the kid, who slinks to his side, grinning at Derek with his hand extended.
"Stiles, my name is Stiles. Hi," he says, determined to catch Derek eyes.
Derek shakes hands with him and curses inwardly because another glance shows that Stiles isn't cute, he's gorgeous.
"Derek Hale," he grumbles (it takes a lot of self restraint not stare at that mouth, Jesus). He drops Stiles' hand as soon as it's polite to focus on the Sheriff again.
"Stiles gave me an ultimatum," he says, looking more amused than crossed. "Either I start running with him or I choose my own sport. So here I am."
That's great news. Derek appreciates the Sheriff a lot, who's been nothing but kind to their family since his mom opened the dojang in Beacon Hills 30 years ago. Stilinski regularly sends them teens that are flirting with delinquency instead of having them sentenced to community service or juvie. Some of those kids earned their place on the wall, too, like the inseparable trio of Isaac, Erica and Boyd, who became Derek's close friends in the last six years. Not everyone can be put on the straight and narrow path by discipline and anger redirection, though, but the Sheriff never blamed the Hales for it.
Derek raises an eyebrow, amused at how smug the Sheriff looks at having outsmarted his kid. "I hope you don't think that Taekwondo classes are easier than running."
"Oh, I am aware that my old bones will suffer here," the Sheriff says. "But at least it won't be utterly boring and soul-sucking."
"Hey," Stiles protests. "Running is very good to keep in shape, old man! I'm sure Derek agrees."
"Sure, I run seven miles every day myself," he says with a nod, and Stiles grins as if he won a point. "But it is utterly boring and soul-sucking," Derek can't help to add, just to nag.
"Hey!" Stiles exclaims, then narrows his eyes at Derek while the Sheriff laughs. "I have no idea where or when you run, but it must not be in the good places. There are fantastic trails in the preserve."
"That's true," Derek concedes. "But most days I use the treadmill since I have to keep an eye on this place," he says with a gesture towards the equipment in the fitness corner.
Stiles huffs with amusement. "And this explains that. Treadmills are machines of the devil, and never a substitute to nice outdoor trails. Though frankly, I'm sure I'd enjoy the scenery quite a bit in here, too," Stiles adds with an obvious once over of Derek's person, followed by a wink.
Derek is shocked at the boldness, and he quickly looks at the Sheriff who has drifted away to look at the pictures on the wall some more.
"Is that Erica Reyes?" the Sheriff asks. "Wow, I almost didn't recognize her."
Even if he seems oblivious of it, Derek momentarily panics at the Sheriff's jailbait son hitting on him. The little prick laughs at Derek's discomfort and claps his shoulder, lingering a second too long before walking towards his dad, which flusters Derek even more.
"Oh, yeah, Erica is a real badass. She comes here?" Stiles asks. Derek wonders how come he knows her; it's probably because she just started giving after-school classes at the Beacon Hills High School.
"Yes. She passed her third dan last week, in fact. She's teaching tonight, I'm sure she'd love seeing you again, Sheriff."
"About that… As you are aware I don't have that steady a schedule, if emergencies pop up. How flexible with attendance are the lessons here?"
"Don't worry, we'll make it work," Derek says. "To have good results in fitness, I recommend seventy-five minutes classes at least twice a week. Three times if it's doable for you."
"That's fantastic," Stiles says, nodding. "You know what? I think this is rekindling my thirst for the martial arts."
Derek stomach drops. If Stiles was legal and not the Sheriff's son, having him register for classes and the prospect of seeing him regularly would be the most exciting thing to happen in his life in a while. Things being what they are, though, it feels like trouble with a capital T is about to enter his life.
"I never allowed you to take classes for reasons that I think are still valid," the Sheriff says.
"And you therefore foiled my dream to become a ninja, I know. Thanks, Dad. But excuse you, I'm a lot more graceful and less accident prone that I was in sixth grade. This might be the way to expand my horizons, with the bonus that I'll spend more time doing fun things with you," he tells his father.
The Sheriff's answering smile and the big hug he draws Stiles into is heartwarming. On the other hand, after a second Stiles looks up over the Sheriff's shoulder and winks, again, while waggling his eyebrows at Derek. It clearly advertises that he intends to have "fun" with Derek, too.
Yep. He's screwed.
(The end for now…)
RIP: Allison: sigtags
BTW, it's ok to take something if you like it! :)
This entry was originally posted here on DW, where it has
comments. Comment here or there