Fic: Even a lie is a psychic fact || PG-13 || pre-Stiles/Derek
Has anyone else recently gotten a popup about something malicious on their computer in relation to Google docs or something else in Chrome? I got a warning while I was writing and I'm doing a scan but I'm wondering if it's not something Google changed that one of my programs is calling "malicious" but isn't actually. I'm not worried, just annoyed that the scan I'm doing is slowing things down when I'm trying to DO things.
I actually have a few songs saved from this month on Spotify so here's one for poops and chuckles.
ALSO ALSO ALSO. HAS EVERYONE SEEN THIS?!
It looks terrible and awful and I'm going to watch every last second of it! The lead dude is Canadian and was in The Borgias as Cesare, and Arielle Kebbel is in it as an assassin. I didn't read the books this is based on but it's by the same author of True Blood and I couldn't make it halfway through the first of that series so I'll stick with the show. Since it's on NBC I don't imagine things will be getting so weird as to include a meat tree, if the series makes it that far.
It looks cheesy bad and like the kind of show I'll fall in love with so I'm pumped!
I'm trying something different to try to get Gracie to stop peeing in the bathroom. I've scrubbed the carpet and sprayed stuff that's supposed to deter her but so far no dice. She goes for about a week or so and then BAM, pee. I moved her water dish to the area she's been going in which is an inconvenience for me because it's right in front of the sink. But I'd rather upset a water dish than step in pee so I'll take it. I recently-ish read that cats prefer their water to be separate from their food because instinctually they know their water could be contaminated by dead prey. There might be more to it than that but it's what I've heard. Hopefully, she won't want to piss where she drinks, either!
Even a lie is a psychic fact
PG-13, Pre-Stiles/Derek, 1630-ish words
college student!Stiles, unrequited crushes, OMC, OFC
Written for a challenge at card_writing for gameofcards. I wrote it for the AO3 tag challenge for which I chose "All right all right all right" and "Congrats on the sex you two"
College was where Stiles blossomed into manhood.
At least, that's what all of his friends constantly reminded him after a hazy night of too many drinks and too much weed. He typed out that fleeting thought on a Snapchat, got distracted by an episode of Law & Order: SVU, and then hit "My Story" and sent a picture of himself grinning with the flower crown filter slapped on it.
The next morning he woke to a pack roast on his behalf and one hell of a hangover.
"Told you not to dip into Alf's stash, Stiles," Kiefer sing-songed as she walked through the living room, carrying tea and toast on the tray she usually reserved for guests she did tarot card readings for.
"Get out of my head," Stiles murmured into the back of their ratty couch, keeping his eyes squeezed tightly against the morning sun. He could hear Alf snoring softly on the floor beside him.
"When will you learn you can't out-smoke a werewolf?" she asked with a light laugh that reminded Stiles of fairy bells. He didn't know what fairy bells actually sounded like, or if fairies even liked bells, but he imagined they'd sound like Kiefer's laugh.
"Maybe after the next time," Stiles mumbled back. Behind his eyelids the light faded as he heard her pull the curtain to stop the sun from shining directly into his eyes. When he opened them she was putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of him.
"For you," she said to his unasked question. "You'll want to be clear-headed when Derek arrives."
Stiles shook his head lightly and the room wobbled in front of his eyes until he put one foot flat on the floor. "Derek's not driving in tonight." Kiefer rolled her eyes and Stiles sighed. "Sorry, oh great and wonderful Kiefer. All hail the amazing all-seeing lady with unicorn hair."
"It's mermaid turquoise, Stiles. Mermaid." Stiles stuck his tongue out at her but sat up and took a few sips of the tea she prepared for him. He could taste the herbs she used to brew her signature tea but moreover felt them as they triggered familiar sensations on his tongue and palette, soothing his head and calming the ache in his bones.
Stiles tried living in an on-campus dorm his first two years of college. In his first year, he went through three roommates before the Residence Life department stopped assigning people to live with him. His second year saw him nearly get arrested at the end of March, so close to making it through the term. His roommate that year barely talked to him once he started noticing the weirdness that surrounded Stiles.
Liam falling through their shared room window at 3 a.m., beaten and bloody, sent Stiles' increasingly-jumpy roommate down the hall to get the advisor. It took nearly 20 fast food ketchup packages and a lot of fake laughter on Stiles' part to convince the irritated upperclassmen that his friend was just playing a prank and man, he got Stiles' roommate good, right?
The roommate spent most of their remaining days of the term sleeping in the lounge at night or in their room during the day but he woke often, in fits and spurts, and Stiles found random bulbs of garlic stuffed in his boots, jacket pockets and sock drawer until he returned to Beacon Hills for the summer.
Stiles decided it would be easier for him and his future roommates' sanity to live off-campus for the remainder of his college career and enlisted Deaton's help to find some kind of supernatural bulletin board. A creepy classified section. An inter-species Craigslist. Well, a weirder inter-species Craigslist.
Deaton consulted some sources and found Stiles a living situation he could handle without worrying about sending his roommates into a mental break. It was nearly the end of his second year living with a psychic who liked to dabble in some witchcraft and a werewolf from a southern Californian werewolf who was baked more often than not.
And Derek, who'd become somewhat of an unofficial fourth roommate. Derek's family had a cabin in the woods, quite literally, about halfway between Beacon Hills and Stiles' college. When he wasn't consulting with Scott and acting as his second he was at Stiles' apartment. "Linking the pack," he explained one night when he stayed over and Stiles was kicking his ass at Call of Duty about a month into his new living situation.
Something in his tone told Stiles he was full of shit and it had nothing to do with the pack as a whole but Derek himself. Stiles couldn't bring himself to care, though. Not when Derek was so relaxed and open around him and his roommates didn't care he was a werewolf and for the first time Stiles felt like he was having a "normal" college experience.
And when Stiles felt a flare of warmth within himself, something he recognized from the once-bright flame he carried for Lydia so long ago. It made his heart skip a beat to realize and Derek looked at him sharply, forcing Stiles to fumble with his controller and his player died a bloody death.
Stiles tamped down on his feelings, resolutely focusing on school and the pack while he ignored everything else, lest he give his brain a chance to think and imagine and hope and then ache from the inevitable fall. Derek didn't notice any differently and since he was away from the pack he was able to keep it under wraps, walking a thin line between giving in to full-blown attraction and breaking down in hysterical laughter.
"You know I'm psychic, right?" Kiefer asked one night after Derek left to return to his literal cabin in the woods. She walked into the kitchen once he left and saw Stiles doing a cycle of calm breathing with his forehead leaned against the closed door.
"You already know my answer to that, right?" Stiles replied sarcastically against the flat surface, then gave her the finger jokingly behind his back.
Kiefer chuckled but when Stiles turned around he could tell she was going to say something. He shook his head and breezed past her into his room, closed his door and left it unsaid.
It'd been almost two years--two years--and Stiles could do this. He could totally make it to the end of term, graduate, go back to Beacon Hills and... well, Stiles knew there was a big freaking problem with that but that was then and this was now and right now... wow his mouth tasted like cotton.
He drank the rest of Kiefer's tea, choked down the toast even though he wasn't 100% sure it would stay down, and quickly got up to get ready, careful not to tread on Alf who was still fast asleep. By the time he emerged from the bathroom Derek walked through the apartment door.
"Kiefer saw you coming, you were projecting," Stiles teased in greeting.
"Maybe she was poking," Derek replied, loud enough for Kiefer to hear him in her bedroom. "I thought I felt a bony finger where it didn't belong."
Kiefer poked her head out of her room and groaned. "Seriously, Hale? Too freaking easy!"
"Just like you," Derek shot back with a grin. Kiefer stuck her tongue out at him.
"What important business are you-- uh. Are you..." Kiefer trailed off as her eyes drifted off and lost focus for a long moment. Stiles knew she was seeing something and by the time he reached her side she was shaking her head as if to clear it.
"You okay?" Stiles asked as Derek reached their side. Kiefer looked up at Stiles but wouldn't meet his eyes when she nodded. Stiles narrowed his gaze. "What?"
"Nothing," she replied. Too quickly.
"What is it?" Derek asked.
"Uh, it's personal? About... you guys?" Kiefer said slowly, still avoiding their stares.
"Don't tell me I'm gonna die before I graduate," Stiles groaned, only half-joking. Derek's body jerked at that and he glared at Stiles.
"Don't say that," he reprimanded Stiles.
"It's a fact, Derek. I'm gonna die someday, I just thought it would be after I finished this very long and expensive degree. My dad's gonna have to pay that off, and--"
"Stiles, stop," Derek insisted. "Kiefer, just tell us."
"I uh. It's weird. I mean, not weird but it's weird to see it," Kiefer babbled until she looked up and saw Stiles and Derek both staring at her with a mix of expressions between impatience (Derek) and fear (Stiles). "Congrats on the sex?"
Derek and Stiles were silent for a second before they started talking at the same time, peppering Kiefer with questions.
"What?"
"Wait--you saw... you saw that?"
"But how? Where? When"
"What?"
"All right, all right, all right!"
Stiles, Derek, and Kiefer all slowly looked over at the couch and saw Alf sitting up on the floor and giving them the thumbs up.
"Stiles--" Derek started but Stiles was already a step ahead of him.
"Yeah, let's go."
Alf stood up and joined Kiefer as they watched Stiles and Derek leave the apartment quickly, closing the door soundly behind them.
"Dude, thank you," Alf said once Derek and Stiles were out of earshot down the hall. "I figured one of them would've given in by now, damn. Props to you."
"For what?" Kiefer asked innocently.
Alf squinted at her. "Didn't you, y'know, make that up?"
Kiefer shrugged and smiled. "Guess you'll never know, wolfboy."
She turned to go back to her bedroom while Alf scrunched up his face, trying to find a lie in her words. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. "Hey Kief? Does this mean you basically get free porn? Kiefer? ... Is it hot?"
I actually have a few songs saved from this month on Spotify so here's one for poops and chuckles.
Click to viewALSO ALSO ALSO. HAS EVERYONE SEEN THIS?!
It looks terrible and awful and I'm going to watch every last second of it! The lead dude is Canadian and was in The Borgias as Cesare, and Arielle Kebbel is in it as an assassin. I didn't read the books this is based on but it's by the same author of True Blood and I couldn't make it halfway through the first of that series so I'll stick with the show. Since it's on NBC I don't imagine things will be getting so weird as to include a meat tree, if the series makes it that far.
It looks cheesy bad and like the kind of show I'll fall in love with so I'm pumped!
I'm trying something different to try to get Gracie to stop peeing in the bathroom. I've scrubbed the carpet and sprayed stuff that's supposed to deter her but so far no dice. She goes for about a week or so and then BAM, pee. I moved her water dish to the area she's been going in which is an inconvenience for me because it's right in front of the sink. But I'd rather upset a water dish than step in pee so I'll take it. I recently-ish read that cats prefer their water to be separate from their food because instinctually they know their water could be contaminated by dead prey. There might be more to it than that but it's what I've heard. Hopefully, she won't want to piss where she drinks, either!
Even a lie is a psychic fact
PG-13, Pre-Stiles/Derek, 1630-ish words
college student!Stiles, unrequited crushes, OMC, OFC
Written for a challenge at card_writing for gameofcards. I wrote it for the AO3 tag challenge for which I chose "All right all right all right" and "Congrats on the sex you two"
College was where Stiles blossomed into manhood.
At least, that's what all of his friends constantly reminded him after a hazy night of too many drinks and too much weed. He typed out that fleeting thought on a Snapchat, got distracted by an episode of Law & Order: SVU, and then hit "My Story" and sent a picture of himself grinning with the flower crown filter slapped on it.
The next morning he woke to a pack roast on his behalf and one hell of a hangover.
"Told you not to dip into Alf's stash, Stiles," Kiefer sing-songed as she walked through the living room, carrying tea and toast on the tray she usually reserved for guests she did tarot card readings for.
"Get out of my head," Stiles murmured into the back of their ratty couch, keeping his eyes squeezed tightly against the morning sun. He could hear Alf snoring softly on the floor beside him.
"When will you learn you can't out-smoke a werewolf?" she asked with a light laugh that reminded Stiles of fairy bells. He didn't know what fairy bells actually sounded like, or if fairies even liked bells, but he imagined they'd sound like Kiefer's laugh.
"Maybe after the next time," Stiles mumbled back. Behind his eyelids the light faded as he heard her pull the curtain to stop the sun from shining directly into his eyes. When he opened them she was putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of him.
"For you," she said to his unasked question. "You'll want to be clear-headed when Derek arrives."
Stiles shook his head lightly and the room wobbled in front of his eyes until he put one foot flat on the floor. "Derek's not driving in tonight." Kiefer rolled her eyes and Stiles sighed. "Sorry, oh great and wonderful Kiefer. All hail the amazing all-seeing lady with unicorn hair."
"It's mermaid turquoise, Stiles. Mermaid." Stiles stuck his tongue out at her but sat up and took a few sips of the tea she prepared for him. He could taste the herbs she used to brew her signature tea but moreover felt them as they triggered familiar sensations on his tongue and palette, soothing his head and calming the ache in his bones.
Stiles tried living in an on-campus dorm his first two years of college. In his first year, he went through three roommates before the Residence Life department stopped assigning people to live with him. His second year saw him nearly get arrested at the end of March, so close to making it through the term. His roommate that year barely talked to him once he started noticing the weirdness that surrounded Stiles.
Liam falling through their shared room window at 3 a.m., beaten and bloody, sent Stiles' increasingly-jumpy roommate down the hall to get the advisor. It took nearly 20 fast food ketchup packages and a lot of fake laughter on Stiles' part to convince the irritated upperclassmen that his friend was just playing a prank and man, he got Stiles' roommate good, right?
The roommate spent most of their remaining days of the term sleeping in the lounge at night or in their room during the day but he woke often, in fits and spurts, and Stiles found random bulbs of garlic stuffed in his boots, jacket pockets and sock drawer until he returned to Beacon Hills for the summer.
Stiles decided it would be easier for him and his future roommates' sanity to live off-campus for the remainder of his college career and enlisted Deaton's help to find some kind of supernatural bulletin board. A creepy classified section. An inter-species Craigslist. Well, a weirder inter-species Craigslist.
Deaton consulted some sources and found Stiles a living situation he could handle without worrying about sending his roommates into a mental break. It was nearly the end of his second year living with a psychic who liked to dabble in some witchcraft and a werewolf from a southern Californian werewolf who was baked more often than not.
And Derek, who'd become somewhat of an unofficial fourth roommate. Derek's family had a cabin in the woods, quite literally, about halfway between Beacon Hills and Stiles' college. When he wasn't consulting with Scott and acting as his second he was at Stiles' apartment. "Linking the pack," he explained one night when he stayed over and Stiles was kicking his ass at Call of Duty about a month into his new living situation.
Something in his tone told Stiles he was full of shit and it had nothing to do with the pack as a whole but Derek himself. Stiles couldn't bring himself to care, though. Not when Derek was so relaxed and open around him and his roommates didn't care he was a werewolf and for the first time Stiles felt like he was having a "normal" college experience.
And when Stiles felt a flare of warmth within himself, something he recognized from the once-bright flame he carried for Lydia so long ago. It made his heart skip a beat to realize and Derek looked at him sharply, forcing Stiles to fumble with his controller and his player died a bloody death.
Stiles tamped down on his feelings, resolutely focusing on school and the pack while he ignored everything else, lest he give his brain a chance to think and imagine and hope and then ache from the inevitable fall. Derek didn't notice any differently and since he was away from the pack he was able to keep it under wraps, walking a thin line between giving in to full-blown attraction and breaking down in hysterical laughter.
"You know I'm psychic, right?" Kiefer asked one night after Derek left to return to his literal cabin in the woods. She walked into the kitchen once he left and saw Stiles doing a cycle of calm breathing with his forehead leaned against the closed door.
"You already know my answer to that, right?" Stiles replied sarcastically against the flat surface, then gave her the finger jokingly behind his back.
Kiefer chuckled but when Stiles turned around he could tell she was going to say something. He shook his head and breezed past her into his room, closed his door and left it unsaid.
It'd been almost two years--two years--and Stiles could do this. He could totally make it to the end of term, graduate, go back to Beacon Hills and... well, Stiles knew there was a big freaking problem with that but that was then and this was now and right now... wow his mouth tasted like cotton.
He drank the rest of Kiefer's tea, choked down the toast even though he wasn't 100% sure it would stay down, and quickly got up to get ready, careful not to tread on Alf who was still fast asleep. By the time he emerged from the bathroom Derek walked through the apartment door.
"Kiefer saw you coming, you were projecting," Stiles teased in greeting.
"Maybe she was poking," Derek replied, loud enough for Kiefer to hear him in her bedroom. "I thought I felt a bony finger where it didn't belong."
Kiefer poked her head out of her room and groaned. "Seriously, Hale? Too freaking easy!"
"Just like you," Derek shot back with a grin. Kiefer stuck her tongue out at him.
"What important business are you-- uh. Are you..." Kiefer trailed off as her eyes drifted off and lost focus for a long moment. Stiles knew she was seeing something and by the time he reached her side she was shaking her head as if to clear it.
"You okay?" Stiles asked as Derek reached their side. Kiefer looked up at Stiles but wouldn't meet his eyes when she nodded. Stiles narrowed his gaze. "What?"
"Nothing," she replied. Too quickly.
"What is it?" Derek asked.
"Uh, it's personal? About... you guys?" Kiefer said slowly, still avoiding their stares.
"Don't tell me I'm gonna die before I graduate," Stiles groaned, only half-joking. Derek's body jerked at that and he glared at Stiles.
"Don't say that," he reprimanded Stiles.
"It's a fact, Derek. I'm gonna die someday, I just thought it would be after I finished this very long and expensive degree. My dad's gonna have to pay that off, and--"
"Stiles, stop," Derek insisted. "Kiefer, just tell us."
"I uh. It's weird. I mean, not weird but it's weird to see it," Kiefer babbled until she looked up and saw Stiles and Derek both staring at her with a mix of expressions between impatience (Derek) and fear (Stiles). "Congrats on the sex?"
Derek and Stiles were silent for a second before they started talking at the same time, peppering Kiefer with questions.
"What?"
"Wait--you saw... you saw that?"
"But how? Where? When"
"What?"
"All right, all right, all right!"
Stiles, Derek, and Kiefer all slowly looked over at the couch and saw Alf sitting up on the floor and giving them the thumbs up.
"Stiles--" Derek started but Stiles was already a step ahead of him.
"Yeah, let's go."
Alf stood up and joined Kiefer as they watched Stiles and Derek leave the apartment quickly, closing the door soundly behind them.
"Dude, thank you," Alf said once Derek and Stiles were out of earshot down the hall. "I figured one of them would've given in by now, damn. Props to you."
"For what?" Kiefer asked innocently.
Alf squinted at her. "Didn't you, y'know, make that up?"
Kiefer shrugged and smiled. "Guess you'll never know, wolfboy."
She turned to go back to her bedroom while Alf scrunched up his face, trying to find a lie in her words. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. "Hey Kief? Does this mean you basically get free porn? Kiefer? ... Is it hot?"