last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 1a/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 04:16:12 UTC
Okay, so here’s the thing: Stiles has bonded with his car. The Jeep is his lady love, his winged chariot without the wings, and his faithful steed, all rolled into one package that doesn’t much resemble any of those things. He doesn’t want to talk about it--but it appears he’s talking about it. Anyway, he shares a deep, unshakable bond with the vehicle, but that doesn’t mean he understands how it works.
So when the car shudders to a halt on Red Hill Road, Stiles lays his hands on the dash and says a few choice words.
“Babe,” he says. “Don’t do this to me.”
He rests his head on the steering wheel.
“I know it seems like a good idea right now, give yourself a rest and that, but I really, really don’t want to call AAA and listen to elevator music when they put me on hold. And I don’t have cash to tip the tow truck driver, so that’ll just be awkward. But the key’s in the ignition--see?--and we’re going to try again, right, and you’re going to start up and we’ll be gold like Ponyboy. Gold like PonyboyThe Jeep doesn’t say anything. She’s
( ... )
last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 1c/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 04:20:06 UTC
“So it would seem,” Stiles says. “My car’s a bit of a lemon, but don’t tell her I told you that. I probably should open a tab at every shop in the county
( ... )
last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 2a/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 04:33:50 UTC
Stiles isn’t sure why he calls the Hales when the Jeep gets a fuel leak over Thanksgiving break, but he does.
“Laura!” he says. “It’s Stiles. With the Jeep that wouldn’t start until it did.”
“Right,” she sounds like she’s smiling. “I remember you. What’s it this time? Need Derek’s magic touch?”
“She’s leaking fuel,” Stiles says. “I don’t know how exactly, but the tank is getting emptier and I’m not driving, so.”
“Bring it by, then,” Laura says.
The tank is low, but it seems like a waste of time and money to fill it up when the entire problem is that the tank is leaking, so Stiles figures he’ll just drive out to the Hale place and get it fixed before filling the tank. That makes sense, right?
And it does make sense, until the car starts slowing on--yes--Red Hill Road. Stiles floors the gas, but it’s obvious there’s no gas coming, and eventually the Jeep slows to a stop
( ... )
last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 2b/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 04:35:09 UTC
There’s a black thing rumbling down the road towards them.
“You said I didn’t know cars, but I know that one,” Stiles says, nodding. “Camaro, right? Took my Chevy to the levy but--”
Laura turns around, then lifts a hand and waves.
“Not just any Camaro,” she says, interrupting his song. And Stiles realizes he’s a pretty terrible singer, but that’s just rude.
Derek hooks an elbow over the window and looks at them, quirks an eyebrow.
“So I was coming to you about a fuel leak, and I ran out of gas,” Stiles says. “I’m sure you understand, being the understanding person you are. Laura was kind enough to bring me enough to get me up the hill.”
“Make sure to charge him for it,” Derek says to Laura, and then his car roars--literally roars, like it’s an animal instead of a car--up the hill
( ... )
last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 2c/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 04:35:57 UTC
“Find the leak yet?” Stiles asks, twiddling his thumbs.
“Yeah,” Derek replies. “Fuel line. Just finishing up now. So you don’t really need to be here.”
“I’m just here ‘cause I got bored with the reading material in the office,” Stiles says. “Seriously, what’s with the Newsweek collection? I don’t think they’re going to be worth any money. Ever.”
“My uncle bought the subscription,” Derek says. “Then he died.”
“Oh,” Stiles says. “Sorry to hear that. About your--uncle,” Peter, Stiles recalls vaguely. “Peter.”
Derek slides out from under the car, wipes his hands on his pants and gets to his feet.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “But we never really got around to renewing the subscription.”
“Um,” Stiles says. “Okay.”
He follows Derek into the office, decidedly not looking at Derek’s ass (okay: totally, absolutely looking at Derek’s ass, because it is very shapely). Derek frowns at the computer like it’s going to bite him and then picks up the phone
( ... )
Re: last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 2c/?kukumaruJuly 14 2012, 12:09:44 UTC
Sitting at starbucks evilly giggling my arse off. This story keeps getting better. And I am so intrigued about the italicised "stiles" ... You're doing a wonderful job!
Re: last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 1a/?
anonymous
July 14 2012, 05:11:26 UTC
No worries, can do! I'm afraid I'm new to this particular meme so I'm not quite up on the etiquette (and, um, the 'fill' thing is pretty typical and I spaced on it, so now I feel ashamed). I'll get that sorted for future installments. Thanks for letting me know!
[fic] last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 3a [au, stiles/derek]
anonymous
July 14 2012, 15:34:20 UTC
Christmas is--Christmas is.
This is what happens over Christmas: Christmas happens, for one, but that’s just the holiday, and that goes pretty well. Presents, etceteras, etceteras. Stiles meets up with Scott and Allison and they exchange gag gifts and stories about school. Scott and Allison went to college together, picked schools together--Stiles envies them, a bit, because they still know everything about one another, which means Stiles is constantly playing catch up. And he gets it, he really does--you lose touch with people from high school when you go away to college, live elsewhere, even when you’re texting them and whatnot. Luckily he catches up with things easier than Scott would, so Stiles figures it’s kind of for the best. Also because Stiles would find making out with Allison or Scott really weird. Not that they aren’t attractive people (untangle those negatives, if you please), but Scott has been Stiles best friend practically since they were in diapers, and so Stiles knows far too much about him, and Scott and Allison
( ... )
[fill] last lovesong of what might be called a lemon 3b/? [au, stiles/derek]
anonymous
July 14 2012, 15:36:16 UTC
“Cramping my style,” Derek echoes. He’s doing--something, with the engine and his hands. He has nice hands. Stiles knows what they say about men who are good with their hands. Things. They say things. Sexy things
( ... )
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So when the car shudders to a halt on Red Hill Road, Stiles lays his hands on the dash and says a few choice words.
“Babe,” he says. “Don’t do this to me.”
He rests his head on the steering wheel.
“I know it seems like a good idea right now, give yourself a rest and that, but I really, really don’t want to call AAA and listen to elevator music when they put me on hold. And I don’t have cash to tip the tow truck driver, so that’ll just be awkward. But the key’s in the ignition--see?--and we’re going to try again, right, and you’re going to start up and we’ll be gold like Ponyboy. Gold like PonyboyThe Jeep doesn’t say anything. She’s ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
“Laura!” he says. “It’s Stiles. With the Jeep that wouldn’t start until it did.”
“Right,” she sounds like she’s smiling. “I remember you. What’s it this time? Need Derek’s magic touch?”
“She’s leaking fuel,” Stiles says. “I don’t know how exactly, but the tank is getting emptier and I’m not driving, so.”
“Bring it by, then,” Laura says.
The tank is low, but it seems like a waste of time and money to fill it up when the entire problem is that the tank is leaking, so Stiles figures he’ll just drive out to the Hale place and get it fixed before filling the tank. That makes sense, right?
And it does make sense, until the car starts slowing on--yes--Red Hill Road. Stiles floors the gas, but it’s obvious there’s no gas coming, and eventually the Jeep slows to a stop ( ... )
Reply
“You said I didn’t know cars, but I know that one,” Stiles says, nodding. “Camaro, right? Took my Chevy to the levy but--”
Laura turns around, then lifts a hand and waves.
“Not just any Camaro,” she says, interrupting his song. And Stiles realizes he’s a pretty terrible singer, but that’s just rude.
Derek hooks an elbow over the window and looks at them, quirks an eyebrow.
“So I was coming to you about a fuel leak, and I ran out of gas,” Stiles says. “I’m sure you understand, being the understanding person you are. Laura was kind enough to bring me enough to get me up the hill.”
“Make sure to charge him for it,” Derek says to Laura, and then his car roars--literally roars, like it’s an animal instead of a car--up the hill ( ... )
Reply
“Yeah,” Derek replies. “Fuel line. Just finishing up now. So you don’t really need to be here.”
“I’m just here ‘cause I got bored with the reading material in the office,” Stiles says. “Seriously, what’s with the Newsweek collection? I don’t think they’re going to be worth any money. Ever.”
“My uncle bought the subscription,” Derek says. “Then he died.”
“Oh,” Stiles says. “Sorry to hear that. About your--uncle,” Peter, Stiles recalls vaguely. “Peter.”
Derek slides out from under the car, wipes his hands on his pants and gets to his feet.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “But we never really got around to renewing the subscription.”
“Um,” Stiles says. “Okay.”
He follows Derek into the office, decidedly not looking at Derek’s ass (okay: totally, absolutely looking at Derek’s ass, because it is very shapely). Derek frowns at the computer like it’s going to bite him and then picks up the phone ( ... )
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Could you please do that in the future?
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This is what happens over Christmas: Christmas happens, for one, but that’s just the holiday, and that goes pretty well. Presents, etceteras, etceteras. Stiles meets up with Scott and Allison and they exchange gag gifts and stories about school. Scott and Allison went to college together, picked schools together--Stiles envies them, a bit, because they still know everything about one another, which means Stiles is constantly playing catch up. And he gets it, he really does--you lose touch with people from high school when you go away to college, live elsewhere, even when you’re texting them and whatnot. Luckily he catches up with things easier than Scott would, so Stiles figures it’s kind of for the best. Also because Stiles would find making out with Allison or Scott really weird. Not that they aren’t attractive people (untangle those negatives, if you please), but Scott has been Stiles best friend practically since they were in diapers, and so Stiles knows far too much about him, and Scott and Allison ( ... )
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