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crash-fics ¡ 6 years
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Steter  Hogwarts drabbles: 
Peter was a Herbology teacher at Hogwarts and Stiles had just taken up a temp job. Filling in for when: teachers get turned to dust, obliviated, blown up, revealed to be a malevolent imposters (even though the castle has super wards and protective magic?...), carried off by centaurs never to be seen again, you know standard magic school stuff.
Stiles slapped his cheeks and bounced up and down on the balls of feet, trying to psych himself up to face the notorious ‘Big Bad Wolf’. That week he was filling in for the 3rd year potions teacher, whose skin had literally been melted off, and needed to secure some fresh ingredients for the next days practical class. The big bad wolf in question was one Professor Peter Hale, Head of the Herbology department and by all accounts a BAMF. Stiles had initially been sceptical, as in his experience, herbology specialists were generally mellow folks who spent their free time sampling the greenery and eating too many cauldron cakes. His scepticism was broken by numerous firsthand experiences from fellow teachers and students.
‘Peter Hale is flawless.’
‘I heard he has 2 Order of merlins and a solid gold Firebolt.’
‘His chest hair is insured for 10,000 Galleons.’
‘I hear he does broom commercials.. In Japan.’
‘I heard he was a hit wizard for the ministry but he was too good at his job so they retired him.’
‘One time, he met Gwenog Jones and she told him he was pretty.’
‘One time, he punched me in the face. It was awesome.’
Stiles shook those thoughts from his head and strode purposefully through one of the outer courtyards, to the detached building that served as Professor Hales office/ greenhouse/ strictly off limits to students unless you want to be eaten by malicious plants, or,  by the sharp toothed professor himself.
He found the outer door open so forewent the courtesy of knocking. His curiosity had not killed him yet  so naturally he poked around the office instead of politely waiting for Hale to return. The office (if you could call it that) was light and airy, especially when compared to the dank cold stone office in which he himself resided. The walls were lined mainly with bookshelves; housing interesting artefacts, plants and thousands of texts. Looking up he saw an open mezzanine level which was dedicated to a number of plants  bathing in the light offered by the skylight which seemed to dominate this and the next room that was partially visible to him through the foliage. Some of his nervousness was put at ease by the comforting atmosphere. That would be his excuse in any case for approaching one of the plants and all but shoving his face in it to get a sniff at the unusual scent.
He was promptly yanked backwards and a smooth voice resonated in his ear.
‘There are better avenues to satisfy your masochistic desires than having your face torn off by a carnivorous plant.’
Stiles, not known for his grace, shrieked and flailed wildly. The man who stood behind him smirked as he dodged an offending limb.
Stiles clutched at his chest. ‘Dude wear a bell and  ..oh my god,  could that plant literally have torn off my face..?!”
He started pinching at his cheeks as if to assure himself that they were intact.
Professor Hale visibly flinched at being called ‘dude, his amusement faded from his face to be replaced by a sneer. He crossed his arms and waited expectantly.
Stiles came to his senses. “Oh, ah, right. I’m Stiles, I’m taking Potions until Blaise’s skin grows back, but you know how vain he is so that could be a while, like honestly have you seen the potions  in his daily routine?”
Hale stuck out a hand impatiently in the middle of Stiles blathering. The younger man had only just been able to stop himself from reaching out to jovially shake it, realizing just in time that the outstretched hand was waiting on the list Stiles held.
“Ah right.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as he handed over the parchment. “Here’s the list of ingredients I was told I’d need for tomorrows class.”
The sneer Hale held sharpened and he raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Teaching potions and you can’t even correctly identify chamomile over something that could eat you face? Tsk tsk.”
‘Huh?! Chamomile?!!’
 Ignoring Stiles comedic double taking, the Herbology professor hmmed thoughtfully over the  list he held.
‘It will take a while to get the correct measurements. You’re welcome to wait here provided you don’t attempt to touch anything else.”
  Stiles pouted as he briefly met the mans gaze over the parchment, promptly shifting his gaze elsewhere.
“ And Stiles, don’t believe everything you’re told.” He throws over his shoulder whilst carelessly waving his wand to conjure up a  pot of tea and  two cups.
Stiles closed his agape mouth as Hale sauntered off, he wasn’t able to come up with a witty quip while the other man was still in earshot so he settled with muttering ‘..show off..’ under his breath.
The tea set in front of him appeared to be floating on nothingness. “ Shit!” Stiles fumbled for his school mandated wand as he came to the conclusion that Professor Hale was indeed enough of an asshole to make the levitation charm extra temporary. He retrieved his wand just in time to catch the china as it began a perilous descent towards the rustic hardwood floor.
 ‘Pheww,’ he wiped his forehead in relief as he guided the set safely to a nearby desk.
‘Asshole.’ He griped, setting a derisive gaze on the glorified stick he was forced to carry whilst working on school grounds. Stiles preferred a less archaic magical conduit, something that couldn’t be torn away by a spell, something wearable that he could have on him without having to fumble through layers of robes. It only took seconds for someone to cast a spell that could end in death and in those seconds reaching for a wand was time no one could afford. Stiles had developed himself (with the help of his old school friend Danny and an amenable dwarf who had a stockpile of magical ores, cores and sundry materials) a modified glove/ bracer that could comfortably be worn at all times. Due to it’s position it had ready access to his magic and could be activated immediately. He felt naked without it and though spilt tea wasn’t life or death, Stiles definitely felt it was possible to die of embarrassment and quite frankly he did not want to give Hale the satisfaction.
 Well that had been an interesting encounter and Stiles nerves were appropriately frayed. This whole situation made Stiles feel he was entirely deserving of helping himself to Peter's chamomile. Smugly and spitefully he plucked some flowers and a few young leaves crushing them slightly before setting them to brew in his freshly poured cup. 
 …………….
After successfully securing all of Stiles ingredients Peter returned.  He was not at all surprised to find a drooling Stiles completely lax and clearly unconscious, half fallen out of his chair. He tutted in disappointment but was clearly amused as he approached the desk where the younger man was now slowly sliding to the floor. 
 Stepping over lithe legs he inspected the tea cup, sure enough it contained the “chamomile”, which was in fact a magically spliced Valerian, Poppy and Aconite hybrid.
 Peter had developed it as a method to treat anxiety in Werewolves. His early research had shown that members of the lycanthrope community were twice as likely as regular humans or wizards to suffer from mental health issues in their lifetimes and comparatively were also twice as unlikely to seek professional assistance. Creating a treatment that takes into account the metabolisation and regeneration rates of werewolves was one step in the right direction. The main issue to still be addressed though was the societal stigma towards lycanthropes and mental health sufferers.
 The plants less desirable effects (digestive discomfort and well, horrible death inducing poisons) had been removed but still, what worked as a sedative for werewolves, caused immediate unconsciousness  in anyone else.
 Peter sighed at his melancholic thoughts and drew his gaze towards the young substitute teacher. His eyes crinkled in amusement at the undignified position he found him in. He laughed softly but brought the splayed legs together and hefted Stiles up to settle more comfortably on a transfigured couch.
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crash-fics ¡ 8 years
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When people turn one half of my gay ships female:
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crash-fics ¡ 8 years
Conversation
Person : So what's your hobby?
Me : Reading.
Person : Really? What do you like to read?
Me : *intense gay smutty fanfictions*
Me : ...
Me : Just some books... ya know.. like..umm...books.
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Author: Stop shipping it, your OTP isn’t  can-
Me: 
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person: “I have this idea for a [insert otp] fic but I don’t know if I should–”
me: 
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Conversation
Person: who's your OTP?
Me: ...From what fandom?
Person: ...
Me: ...Are you only expecting 1 answer? Or am I naming all 27 of them?
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Do you know of any stories where Stiles develops some kind of psychic powers? (i.e: Telekinesis)
We do know. Cause of our psychic powers obvs. - Anastasia
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Colored Smoke by Elivira
(1/1 I 1.445 I General I No Pairing)
The Nogitsune is gone, but a little something got left behind.
(The one where Stiles can read emotion, Scott is a ball or worry, and Lydia is the only person Stiles can stand to be around.)
Bridger by skeleteen
(1/1 I 3,062 I General I Sterek)
All the medicine gives him nosebleeds. He hates the nosebleeds, but the alternative to not taking the colourful pills is a one way ticket into a looney bin.
Or, the one where everyone presents an ability around the ages four to five. Most get stuff like night vision or indestructible nails, but Stiles is a bridger, and bridgers are legally required to subdue their powers. Stiles has never been good at following the rules.
tell me no lies (and i’ll try to forgive) by KatsatheGraceling
(1/1 I 3,178 I Teen I Sterek)
Laura laughed, a bright and happy sound. “Derek, look,” she pointed to a large sign in a shop’s window that proudly proclaimed ‘Psychic Readings’. The siblings were walking around a small town just on the outskirts of New York, relaxing and trying to enjoy the day.
“We should get our fortunes told,” Laura said.
Derek huffed. “And let them scam us? No way.”
Laura pouted at him playfully, but they continued walking around the shops downtown.
It was only two years later that Laura was taken from him, too. Derek always wondered what the fortune teller would have said to them, if it would have made the least bit of difference. If she would still be alive.
He supposed that curiosity is what made him walk into “Claudia’s Clairvoyance and Medium Readings” years later.
Clarity by transgallavich
(6/? I 3,784 I Not Rated I Sterek)
Derek is in love with Stiles. Stiles can read his mind.
another pretty vein (just dies) by pprfaith
(1/1 I 5,166 I Not Rated I No Pairing)
In which Stiles sees it all coming and nothing really changes anyway. Except when it does.
Your Face is Like a Melody (It Won’t Leave My Head) by toyfeels
(1/1 I 8,386 I Teen I Sterek)
“Since age three, Stiles has been dreaming of Derek. When he was younger, he would always babble about Derek and draw pictures of them together, etc. but everyone just assumed that Derek was his imaginary friend. Stiles himself didn’t realize that Derek was a real person until he heard about the Hale fire but by that time, Derek and Laura had moved to New York. ”
A Blast From The Future by Alexdoesthings
(1/1 I 9,136 I Teen I Sterek)
Stiles can see the future, which can be a real bonus when your best friend is a werewolf with a knack for attracting trouble, but he is haunted visions of death and destruction. With the town and everyone he loves in grave danger, Stiles has to find a way to stop this new threat. When the visions tell him the only solution is Derek’s blood sacrificed at the right moment he is suddenly tasked with the job of keeping the alpha alive but things get complicated when the two build a connection far deeper than friendship. Now Stiles must choose between the lives of the many or the life of the one person he has grown to love more than any other.
Threat Assessment by Blue_Five
(1/1 I 9.196 I Mature I Sterek)
As a civilian consultant with the Psi Division, Stiles worked with a different Judge everyday. Then he met Judge Derek Hale.
Agents against the dark by RadioStatic
(8/8 I 23,088 I Explicit I Sterek)
Stiles is part of a special police division devoted to the Supernatural. He’s been partnered with Derek for two years. There’s a serial killer on the loose that’s going after Werewolves. They need to stop it.Besides catching killers and protecting those that need it, Stiles can’t help falling in love slowly with his partner despite the fact that he’s married to a terrible woman.Slow building Sterek.
As Cryptic as the Moon by Formaldehyde_Eyes
(8/8 I 30,404 I Explicit I Sterek)
“So,” Stiles started, everything about him unsure with how to explain it. “I sometimes have these dreams. About wolves.”
Burning House by witchgrassi
(1/1 I 46,281 I Not Rated I Sterek)
For as long as he can remember, Stiles has been dreaming of the burning house in the woods. At first he thought that they were just nightmares, but as he grew up he realized that they were actually visions of the future for the Hale family and that he was the only one who would be able to save them.
Opportunity Knocks by WhereDestiniesMeet17 (orphan_account)
(15/15 I 52,719 I Explicit I Steter)
At that moment, something moved across the yard. His heart kicked up, fear making him flail and latch back onto the fence. He sucked in a deep breath and repeated to himself, don’t freak out, don’t freak out. It’s just a shadow. It isn’t a murderer or house owner looking to kill you. Just turn and look and you’ll see it’s nothing but a trick of the eye.
Stiles turned his head ever so slightly more to the side, ignoring how Scott held up his hand to show the splinter wedged in his palm. His eyes cast back to the shadow, and yep, his first instinct was correct. There was definitely someone in the fucking yard with them.
-
Or, the one where Stiles dives head first into a supernatural shit storm and drags everyone he knows down with him. And he takes up with Peter Hale of all people.
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crash-fics ¡ 8 years
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sanctuary - chapter 18
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SANCTUARY MASTER POST HERE. 
It’s after dinner and Stiles is sitting on the living room floor. He’s leaning back against Peter, bracketed by his legs. Peter, in turn, is leaning against the couch, idly making twists out of Stiles’s hair, sliding his thumb against the back of his neck to draw away the tiny tendrils of pain that bother him, and making him eat grapes against his will. They’re really nice grapes, but Stiles is still full from dinner. He suspects a Hale conspiracy to fatten him up.
Right on cue James stretches out on the couch and rattles a box of choc chip cookies in his face.
Stiles grumbles at him and takes one.
Peter huffs out a silent laugh.
Cora is lying on the floor beside them, on her stomach, swinging her legs in the air as she watches the TV. Matty and one of the little girls—Stiles is a horrible person and can’t remember which twin it is—are picking beads out of a container and only half paying attention to the movie as they make some sort of complicated friendship bracelets. Stiles is already wearing two.
It should feel a little weird, not just sliding so easily into the family, the pack, but sitting here pretty much plastered to Peter, and nobody so much as blinks. Like whatever this is, it’s a natural progression of everything that’s come before. Whatever that was. It’s simultaneously the easiest and most complicated thing Stiles has ever dealt with in his life.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Peter says gently, and presses his mouth to Stiles’s temple.
Stiles closes his eyes, and warmth rises through him. Half embarrassment, probably, for having that happen in front of an audience. But half something else too. Happiness again, bubbling up from some place deep inside him.
He opens his eyes again when Derek stoops to scruff his hair on his way to the couch.
“What are we watching?” Derek asks, sliding in under James’s legs.
James shrugs. “Some teenage nonsense. I don’t know.”
Derek snags a cookie.
It’s weird. Not just the thing with Peter, but the fact that at this very moment Scott is in the basement with Talia and Laura, and Stiles has no idea what’s happening down there. All he knows is that when he asks, Peter tells him the pack bonds are still settling, and that Scott’s doing fine.
As far as Stiles knows, Scott’s mom is on night shift so she hasn’t noticed he’s not at home when he should be. It makes him think of all those times his dad worked through the night on some case or another, and Stiles had already left for school by the time he dragged himself home. Sometimes they could go days without seeing each other at all. It hadn’t felt weird at the time but now, living in a house full of people, Stiles wonders how he never noticed before that he was lonely.
He rests against Peter, and watches the TV and dozes.
Keep reading
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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When one half of your OTP cannonly gets together with another character that isn't your other half of your OTP
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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Watch 2:36
This video was my inspiration for the two douchy hipster guys in my fic The YOLO incident and it's freaking wet your pants hilarious!
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski Additional Tags: Teen Wolf, Witty Banter, Fluff and Humor, Minor Violence, POV Stiles, POV Peter Hale, Minor Angst, Hilarity, Steter - Freeform, Funny, Sassy Peter Hale, Creeper Peter Hale Summary:
Ha, these wolves think they’re so freaking smart. Stiles continues lounging, the picture of nonchalance as he hears his window slowly lift. He makes pretence of heaving a pronounced long suffering sigh. “We’ve talked about this whole knocking thing remember, what if I’d been indecent? Window etiquette’s totally gone to hell this century.” He grins pre-emptively, expecting one of Derek’s barked responses that consist mainly of ‘Shut up Stiles’ and ‘wah wah wah this is why I need you to harbour my hairy –but sexy- werewolf ass now’, they were so witty. Naturally then the dark and silky smooth retort was enough to plant Stiles face first on his floor as he yelped and flailed himself right off his bed . “Ooh well I don’t know what sort of sordid affair you have with my nephew but I would’ve thought indecency was kind of the point.” - or where Peter climbs through Stiles window one night: banter and hilarity ensues.
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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This track now available on Like A Version Nine. CD/DVD and download available at http://www.bit.ly/triplejLAV9 Unearthed alumni Kingswood are in the studio ...
Kingswood is another of my favourite Australian bands and their cover of wolf by first aid kit is just beautiful. Stiles thinks so too, especially when he knows Peter is listening and using his judgey eyebrows.
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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Self-titled album available digitally from http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/art-vs.-science/id529104653 'The Experiment' available in Australia/NZ now. Art v...
Art Vs Science is my favourite band so obviously they feature in  my fic. Were you aware though that a few songs from there first albumn were featured in season one of Teen wolf? Stop lying I bet you didn't! and thats okay because you can follow the link and imagine Stiles dancing in the shower to this amazing electro nonsense
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crash-fics ¡ 10 years
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Oh zachary levi!
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Mardi Gras!
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That outfit. That facial hair. My ovaries.
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Peter Hale in 4x08 Time of Death
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Peter might be a manipulative genius but technology has come a long way in the past 6 years and texting is hard.He presses the non existent buttons experimentally he'd liberated from the nurse. He's immediately frustrated but resists the urge to throw, crush or otherwise obliterate the insignicant scrap of metal that dares impune his ego.
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