marianne-zemo

[marianne-zemo]

The thing about Steter is that it is so, so, so vital to me that Peter is madly, deeply, undeniably smitten and enamored with Stiles.

Stiles is the clever one. The snarky and sarcastic little shit who can keep up with him and keep Peter's interest. The only tolerable one. The one he comes back for. The one he'd kill for. His.

I don't need to read about Peter falling in love with Stiles. I need him to already be there. He's been there since the parking garage.

I need Peter Hale irrevocably, undeniably in love with Stiles.

[marianne-zemo]

@takaraphoenix

Professor!Peter & Student!Stiles

[marianne-zemo]

Oh, the Steter is so gonna carry me through 3A, isn't it? Me and @kimmycup finally started 3A on our shared watch and just 03x02 Chaos Rising gave me so much life.

The fact that Peter and Stiles were left alone in the loft and though Peter acted exasperated at Stiles' rambling, he was so clearly listening closely to what Stiles was saying, because he actually filtered out the important bits, picked up the things Stiles stumbled over and immediately launched into action.

On the 'we dismiss Stiles when his instincts tell him something is up, even though Stiles' instincts have literally not once been wrong' show, we really get to see Peter following those instincts and help Stiles figure out what exactly is going on.

And when they figure it out and call Scott? There was no need for them to pose like that, so close their arms are literally touching? I am obsessed with the circling shot of them facing each other and making the phone call. Also obsessed with the way they practically finished each other's sentences when explaining it all to Scott.

Damn, this ship really has shot up to my number one spot in this fandom. They're so good they make me feel feral.

[marianne-zemo]

Anyone have the gif’s of the Chilean goalkeeper Christiane Endler lifting two of her teammates with ease.

I need them for um reasons lol

[marianne-zemo]

this morning NASA abandoned their mars rover Opportunity (aka Oppy) because it (she) got hit by a storm on Mars and it knocked her camera and wheels out and her last words to the team were “my battery is low and it is getting cold”. I know she’s a machine but I’m devastated. Oppy is the one who discovered water on Mars. RIP oppy ily space baby

[marianne-zemo]

You have been visited by the twocumber. May you receive twofold luck in the coming days

[marianne-zemo]

Everyone is fighting a tough battle so reblog to give previous a sword 🗡️

[marianne-zemo]

Sterek AU where Stiles writes really terrible/wonderful erotica for a living and he usually writes in a super public place, like a coffee shop or a library or something. Somewhere he can see Derek. Like maybe Derek is the librarian. And all of the love interests in his books are based on Derek, so he’s basically writing RPF featuring himself and the hot guy with the crazy green eyes and the scruffy face.

The brooding black sheep of London society in a period romance? Derek.

The hero of the federation who turns out to have shit people skills in an erotic sci-fi book? Derek.

The ranch hand with the shady past who the main character is initially intimidated by but ends up inviting into the main house for pie and frickle frackle when he finds out the ranch hand is actually pretty nice and really good at his job and totally compassionate towards the horses and also really hot standing in the rain in a thin, white tank top and a cowboy hat and Wranglers? Derek.

Stiles is writing all these crazy fantasies about himself and Derek but, whenever he has the chance to actually talk to Derek, he makes a total ass of himself. He’s not smooth at all. Seriously, he’s the absolutl worst. It’s so much easier to write romances than it is to initiate them in real life. But maybe one day he sees Derek, sitting at the circulation desk or whatever, reading one of Stiles’s books. He wonders if Derek likes it, so he asks, but it comes out like he’s making fun of Derek for reading smutty romances and Derek doesn’t respond well because [insert nomme de plume here] is his very favorite author. Sure, maybe the books are smutty and sometimes a little corny, but they’re good. The writing is fantastic and sometimes people want to read about real love instead of silly made up nonsense. Why, [insert nomme de plume here] wrote a high fantasy romance that was so well thought out and the world building was wonderful and believable and Derek maybe likes it better than the Game of Thrones books. The main character (that Stiles based on himself) is one of Derek’s favorite literary characters ever!

So Stiles ends up feeling thoroughly chastised and ashamed, having apparently lost an argument about his own books when he wasn’t even arguing. But it’s weird that Derek is a fan, right? How could Derek have possibly missed that he’s the inspiration for literally every single love interest Stiles has written since he started coming to the library to write? It’s not like it’s even subtle. But then he realizes that Derek is seeing these characters through Stiles’s eyes and that that’s not the way Derek sees himself.

He sets out to try to woo Derek, but it’s slow and going terribly, so he writes a book instead that, really, is their actual real life. The main setting is a library and everything. Just the names are changed. He writes the whole thing in a frenzied state, like finishing it in two weeks and sending it off to his editor. He pushes them to publish it as quickly as possible. Still, it takes a while. A matter of months probably. He still attempts to woo Derek in the meantime and he thinks maybe Derek is a little bit interested. At least Derek doesn’t seem to hate him? There’s real progress being made, glacial as it may seem.

The book comes out. He doesn’t know if Derek buys the books right away or waits for the price to go down or whatever, so he leaves the ball in Derek’s court and nothing happens. Nothing continues happening and happening and happening until finally Stiles breaks. He asks if Derek’s read the latest book by [insert nomme de plume here] and Derek is like, “What, the one about the library? Yeah. It was okay. I mean, not his best work, but I liked it…”

And Stiles would figure, that’s it. That’s Derek rejecting him. He should just give up and find somewhere else to write from now on. But he… he kind of wants to hear it said, you know? Nothing’s as final as the words ‘get lost’. So he says, “The dedication at the beginning was kind of strange, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Derek would say. “It was something about his real life librarian, who he wished would make the book come true with him, right?”

“Yeah. That was it. You know, you seem kind of like [insert character name here]. I wonder if the author meant you.”

Derek would scoff because, seriously? No way.

“No, really, I think the librarian seems an awful lot like you. You wouldn’t have happened to, I dunno, notice anyone who comes here to write all the time?��� Stiles would ask, getting crankier by the minute.

“Lots of people write here, Stiles. I’m not the inspiration for [insert character name here]. I think I would be able to tell.”

And, seriously, Stiles is so frustrated. Derek isn’t even turning him down; he straight up missed the crazy huge clues. He read about about himself and Stiles that wasn’t even AU and didn’t connect the dots. “You were, too, just like you were the inspiration for [cowboy], [duke], [starship captain], and [warrior]. I know because I effing wrote them, Derek,” he’d say, positively glaring because he’s so frustrated.

Derek’s confused face is cute, though. He’d be like, “What? I don’t…”

“I’m [insert nomme de plume here] and, seriously, I can’t believe I went to the trouble of writing a book one hundred percent about you and me and you didn’t even notice. Wow. I thought you said I was a good writer, Derek? Why didn’t you notice?”

And then Derek would be super weirded out because, like, he just found out he’s a apparently a character in a whole lot of gay romance books. But he’s always liked Stiles, who’s such a weird and wonderful dude and attractive, and he’s been half in love with [insert nomme de plume here] this whole time and his favorite characters are always the ones apparently based on Stiles. So, the being weirded out thing doesn’t last for long.

Then they have their own romance novel ending. But maybe not until after acting out that scene in the stacks from chapter eight; the one where the Derek character and the Stiles character totally do the do up against the bookshelves. (and then they relive scenes from all the other books, too. Derek turns out to be really stupid hot in a cowboy hat and nothing else…)

[marianne-zemo]

one of the most challenging skills i've had to learn as an adult is the art of figuring out whether i'm proportionally annoyed with someone or just tired and overstimulated and looking for reasons to be pissed off

[marianne-zemo]

When the first bottle appeared, Stiles almost didn't notice. He was grabbing his backpack and running out the door of the loft, shouting his goodbyes to an amused Derek and Peter, who didn't bother to remind him he didn't need to shout. It wasn't until Stiles was halfway home that it occurred to him that werewolves can't get drunk. But Peter is weird, maybe he just likes the flavor and happened to leave it at Derek's place. Odd but quickly forgotten. 

Stiles noticed the second bottle weeks later. The loft was finally finished being renovated and there were two bottles on some shelves that Derek had installed behind the kitchen island. The first bottle was still there, the second beside it but again Stiles didn't have time to ask. He was too busy trying to convince Erica to team up with him so they could take over the monopoly board. 

By the third bottle Stiles was not the only one noticing. Isaac had asked and gotten a shrug. Erica had inspected the bottles and confirmed they were human alcohol so there was no way Derek was getting drunk. Boyd pointed out that Derek wasn't drinking them anyway, all of the bottles were sealed. The pack continued to puzzle over the bottles together, while a very amused Peter refused to contribute and Derek refused to answer questions. 

Bottles four, five and six were added without any answers. There was no pattern to when they arrived, no pattern to the brands or sizes, even the shapes of the bottles were different. Most of the pack had given up, more interested in the other changes in the loft (new furniture, with lots of pillows and flannel blankets, a chess set on the table, the shelves full of books both old and new, and the smaller shelf full of movies) but Stiles was aware of every new bottle. 

It was after bottle eight that Stiles finally cracked and asked. 

"What's the deal with the whiskey?" 

Derek looked up from his book to study Stiles, who was studying the shelves of alcohol. It was just the two of them today, Stiles doing some kind of research while Derek simply enjoyed the younger man's presence. 

"I don't know what you mean," Derek said mildly, dropping his eyes to his book when Stiles turned back towards him. 

"Oh, come on, Derek. You don't drink! I mean, you can if you want, but it won't do anything and not a single bottle has been opened. So what's up?" 

"It's nothing," Derek sighed, and if Stiles didn't know the werewolf, he would have thought nothing more. 

But Stiles did know Derek and unless he was very mistaken Derek was blushing! It was faint but Derek's cheeks were pinkening as were the tip of his ears. 

"It's something," Stiles slowly smiled. "You just wont to tell me!" Stiles shifted how he was sitting, scooting closer to Derek. "C'mon Der, what is it?" 

Stiles leaned in and Derek closed his eyes taking a breath. 

"It's...." Derek said more but it was mumbled and Stiles wasn't sure what it was. 

"What?" Stiles asked again, leaving even closer. 

"It's the color of your eyes. The whiskey." Derek finally blurted, his cheeks warm and pink. 

"Huh?" Stiles mouth fell open as he sat stunned. 

"Well almost. None of them are quite right but whenever I see amber whiskey I think of your eyes and I always end up buying a bottle," Derek kept his eyes on his lap as he explained. 

"My eyes," Stiles repeated. 

"Yeah," Derek glanced up. "In the sunlight your eyes aren't just brown, theyre like warm amber whiskey." 

"So you bought eight bottles??" Stiles almost shrieked, his brain finally catching up with what was happening. "Because it reminded you of my eyes?! Alcohol is expensive!" 

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," Derek looked away, his shoulders dropping in defeat. "It's so weird and probably creepy. I'm sorry I'll take them down tonight-" 

"Derek!" Stiles interrupted and Derek looked up startled. Stiles was smiling and before Derek could realize it was happening Stiles was kissing him. 

It was warm and Stiles smelled amazing. Derek had initially froze but he quickly melted into the kiss, pulling Stiles closer. One of Stiles' hands rested on Derek's chest but the other slid up to cradle the back of Derek's head, fingers threading through the werewolf's hair. After pulling Stiles against him Derek's hands had slid down to rest on Stiles' hips. 

When Stiles pulled back, he stayed close, studying Derek's face, a faint smile on his lips. 

"So... Not weird then?" Derek asked a little sheepishly. 

"Oh totally weird dude but also probably the most romantic this anyone has ever done for me," Stiles grinned as Derek rolled his eyes. 

"We just kissed and you're calling me dude?" Derek complaint lightly and Stiles laughed, his eyes crinkling. 

"Seems like it, Sourwolf." 

Still laughing Stiles leaned in to kiss Derek again and Derek was more than happy to let him.

~This was inspired by a line from the song 'Heather on the Hill' by Nathan Evans: "She's as warm as amber whiskey"

[marianne-zemo]

Pining is like porn for me. Imagine Stiles who is like…ridonkulously in love with Derek, but he’s too afraid to tell him. 

Stiles working up the nerve to go through with it when Derek signs up on Tinder or some other dating site. He thinks, okay, maybe now is good, Derek is looking for someone, I could be Someone. 

But then, Derek starts dating, and Stiles is devastated. He gets withdrawn and morose and spends less time around people, particularly Derek. Derek notices of course.

And then there’s maybe this moment where everyone is together and Stiles is sort of overwhelmed just being near Derek in general and he goes and sits out on the McCall’s back porch for some air. 

Derek eventually finds him and sits down on the steps next to him and they sit quietly for awhile before Derek asks Stiles what’s wrong.

Stiles can’t really tell him, but he wants to because it’s eating him up inside. But Derek just gives him a look when Stiles shrugs it off and says he’s fine, it’s nothing. 

Derek bumps their knees together and all Stiles wants to do is tell him everything. So, he settles instead for the truth with some deliberate omissions.

“I…I have feelings for someone,” he says.

“Oh,” Derek says, “and they don’t?”

“I um–well I guess I don’t know? I haven’t actually told them,” Stiles admits. He glances at Derek and then quickly away, afraid he’s going to give himself away. 

“Why not?” Derek asks. Stiles is Stiles and he gives him a look in return. 

“They’re sort of involved,” Stiles says, “and also I’m way too chickenshit.” 

Derek huffs a laugh. “Are you two close?” He asks. 

Stiles thinks about it for a moment before nodding. “We’ve known each other awhile I guess.”

“How long have they been dating?” Derek asks, voice soft, curious.

“I dunno, a few weeks?” Stiles says.

“A few weeks?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s not that long but what if…” Stiles sighs. “I could tell them and they end it with this person, and what if they would have been really happy together? Why should I get to ruin that just because I didn’t ask first?” Stiles says.

Derek is looking at him and Stiles flushes because he’s pretty sure he’s been caught. But Derek is a dumb idiot. 

“How do they know each other?” He asks.

“Through–” Stiles clears his throat “–blind date.”

“So, they barely know each other?”

“Look, when you say it all like this it seems like I should just tell them, but what if it ruins everything?” Stiles is getting all worked up but Derek is sort of grinning at him. “What?!” Stiles huffs.

“You’re sweet, Stiles,” Derek tells him. It’s all fond and gross and Stiles flushes again and his heart starts pounding. 

“No way,” he argues, totally not looking at Derek. 

Stiles doesn’t tell him then. But Derek eventually finds out that it’s him Stiles was talking about and it kind of fucks him up. Because Stiles is so fucked up over him, and he’s never really had anyone that fucked up over him before. 

Stiles is wrecked and sad and it makes that selfish part of Derek sort of thrilled and elated. Maybe he’s never really thought about Stiles like that before, not really, but then suddenly he finds it impossible to see him any other way. Everything about him becomes unbearable. 

He’s always been…attracted to Stiles…in that way you are when you know someone is good looking even though you aren’t…you know…but now Derek’s heart starts pounding every time he sees Stiles, when Stiles looks at him. 

He breaks it off with the woman he’s been seeing, obviously. They really have been only seeing each other for a few weeks. It’s not a tragedy or anything. And then Derek asks Stiles out.

Stiles is sort of floored and suspicious and Derek can’t help but wonder how it took so long for him to actually realize they’ve been heading to this point the whole time. Stiles has always been this bizarre anomaly, this obnoxious, yet selfless little shit that was willing to put everything on the line for him. Derek was always sort of too guarded to see it.

Now though, they’re both so gone for each other. 

[marianne-zemo]

what if the sheriff and derek start investigating more and more, and they become friends that go to coffee together. and stiles has no idea, like he doesn’t notice at all because he’s so caught up in his own life. but then one day the doorbell rings really early in the morning and stiles answers the door half asleep and finds derek, and he’s like “what? what supernatural crisis is so important that you had to wake me up at this ungodly hour?” and derek looks confused. and then the sheriff walks past stiles and is like “he’s here for me, son. we’re going to get breakfast” and they leave together in the sheriff’s cruiser and stiles just stands there like ‘what the hell just happened?’

[marianne-zemo]

after 2 years working outdoors all day i finally got stung by an onion for the first time yesterday and i wasnt even doing anything there wasnt even a nest nearby

[marianne-zemo]

"I'm dying."

"I swear to god, Peter, you're not dying. You've died before! You've known death! This isn't it!"

Stiles wouldn't consider the way he, and the rest of humanity, deals with common colds particularly heroic, but it turns out he's a goddamn superstar. The fact he manages to stay clean, fed, and clothed while sick—with a minimum of bitching—puts him head and shoulders above a born wolf dealing with a mild case of the sniffles.

He mutters to himself while tossing more throw blankets into the dryer, because Peter has apparently never been cold in his life, and earlier he got the goddamn lip going over a "chilly quilt." Never mind the glistening eyes when he ran out of noodles in his chicken soup.

"Ugh, you're such a sucker, Stilinski."

Balancing warm and fluffy throws in one hand and a cup of chamomile SleepyTime™ tea in the other, Stiles makes his way back into Peter's bedroom, where the wolf has made a nest of sadness in the middle of the king-sized bed. He sets the tea on the nightstand, with Peter sniffling pathetically (he's seen these wolves shrug off broken bones, but a magically-inflicted head cold is a bridge too far???) propped up by a ridiculous number of pillows.

"Here, creeper. Drink your tea."

Peter eyes him while he sips at the tea, nose rosy and typically perfect hair mussed in all directions. He looks shiftily down at his cup for a while before speaking.

"I need body heat, I'm freezing in addition to dying."

Stiles huffs and rolls his eyes with his entire body, but still lifts the edge of the warm throw mound and crawls in.

"Don't think this means you always get to be the little spoon, you big ol' zombified baby."

[marianne-zemo]

“ i could have lost you today! do you know what that would have done to me? ” - Peter & Stiles

Stiles manages to hold his tongue until they’re safely tucked away in Peter’s apartment. Away from their enemies and allies alike. Away from the world that seems so determined to take every last bit of Stiles’ happiness and chew it into mush before spitting it out to dissolve on the concrete of the abandoned strip mall parking lot that is his life, complete with weeds struggling to survive as they spring up through the cracks and crawl across the pitted concrete.

So maybe he needs to take a few deep breaths and step back from the cache of flowing words and artful descriptions his creative writing class has tucked away in his mind.

It doesn’t matter what words he uses. He’s angry and frustrated and on edge and the way Peter is looking at him like he wants to pin him down and gobble him up is not doing anything other than make him even angrier.

“That was dangerous, Peter. Dangerous and stupid and ridiculous and if I’m saying it was stupid? Me. The undisputed king of doing stupid shit without thinking it through? You know it was fucking stupid.”

“Oh please.” Peter rolls his eyes as he saunters towards his bedroom to change out of his dirty clothes. “I’m a werewolf, darling. There is very little in this world that can even leave a scratch that doesn’t heal within a few hours.”

“Yeah and one of those things is a band of pissed off hunters who have gone rogue, no longer follow a code, and are systematically taking out smaller packs one by one.” Stiles doesn’t bother to raise his voice. One: because he’s tired. Two: because he knows that Peter can hear him no matter where he is in the apartment, even if he whispered.

He throws himself on to the couch, spreading out over it so Peter will have to either move him, sit on him, or sit in the chair off to the side when he comes back. Yes he’s being a little bit petty. But he had just watched Peter throw himself into a fight with a bunch of off the rail hunters who were hellbent on destroying anything and everything supernatural that they could. It doesn’t matter that Peter managed to not get hurt this time. It doesn’t matter that Issac and Derek had swooped in with an almost eerily synchronized move to pull the attention off of Peter.

Stiles had still seen it. He had seen the blade oozing with the twisted version of wolfsbane these particular hunters had been known for. He’d seen it centimeters away from Peter’s chest before he had been grabbed by Isaac and yanked out of the way. A millisecond later and that blade would have been in Peter’s heart. He’s going to be having nightmares about Isaac being too late for weeks. About Isaac reaching out and the blade already in Peter’s chest. About Peter on the ground bleeding and gasping and fading away because this particular wolfsbane blend is made to be quick and vicious and damn near impossible to burn out of a werewolf’s system.

Stiles is good. He can do a lot of shit. And maybe, maybe, if they were mated or bonded or had claimed each other or whatever he’d be able to save Peter even on the brink of death.

But they’re not.

He appreciates being the one to warm Peter’s bed and he knows that neither of them are with anyone else. But they’re not really even with each other so it’s only a small consolation.

Peter looms over him and Stiles peels his eyes open and glares up at him. He doesn’t let his eye rake over Peter the way he wants to. Doesn’t let himself give in to these instincts to curl around Peter and protect him.

Peter doesn’t want that. Peter doesn’t want Stiles to take up that position in his life. In his bed? Sure. On his side in a fight? Definitely. By his side in life? No thank you. Peter’s made it pretty clear where Stiles stands in that regard.

He gestures for Stiles to move his legs and when Stiles refuses Peter raises his brows. “What has you in such a mood? I barely even got a scratch on me and the hunters were put in their place. Everyone wins. Except the hunters, who are dead now.”

“Barely got a scratch?” Stiles hops to his feet, rage flooding him so fast that Peter actually leans back when Stiles leans towards him. “Barely a scratch? You were, quite literally, a hairbreadth away from death, Peter. If Isaac hadn’t grabbed you when he did you wouldn’t be here now.”

“But I am. Here and unharmed.” Peter reaches out for him and Stiles bats his hands away. “It was a risk, Stiles. We all take them every time we go into a fight.”

“Not all of us take unnecessary risks, Peter. You’re the one who taught me that unnecessary risks are just that: unnecessary.” Peter crosses his arms across his chest and takes a step back from Stiles.

“Be that as it may I still don’t see what has you so upset about this whole thing. So I took an unnecessary risk. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal? The big deal is that I could have lost you today! Do you know what that would have done to me? What losing you would do to me?”

Peter stares at him for a moment, words sinking in, before he scoffs and looks off towards the windows.

“You’d survive just fine without me. I’m sure you wouldn’t even miss me for that long. There are plenty of others out there who would fall over themselves to be with you,” Peter says quietly.

“I don’t care. I don’t want any of them. I want you, Peter. I don’t care how many people out there would be willing to be with me. I didn’t choose any of them. I chose you.”

Peter’s lip curls as he lets out a growl. “Oh, please. I’m not a choice. You know it. I know it. Hell even the hunters who come to try and kill us all know that I am, at best, a convenient fuck for you.”

Stiles’ mouth is already open to snap back when the mention of hunters makes him snap it shut. The hunters had been talking amongst themselves just before Peter had leapt into the middle of them and the whole plan had gone out the window. Is that what they had been talking about? Is that what they had said?

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“Peter.” He waits until Peter drags his gaze from the windows and looks at him. “You’ve been my choice since before I even knew you were an option.”

“What?”

Well. This was either going to end in some really amazing sex and a new stage of their whatever they’ve been doing or it was going to ruin the best thing he’s ever had. But he is the undisputed king of doing stupid shit without thinking it through after all.

“You’ve been my choice since before I even knew you were an option,” he repeats. “The only reason I haven’t given in to my spark’s need to bond with you, to claim you as mine, is because you’ve never seemed to want anything more than a convenient fuck out of me.”

Peter’s eyes widen at ‘bond’ and ‘claim’ even as he winces at having the ‘convenient fuck’ part thrown back at him. He stares at Stiles and Stiles knows Peter is listening to his heartbeat and subtly scenting the air to measure the truth of Stiles’ words. Stiles learned a long time ago how to control his heartbeat and mask his scent but he had promised to never do it while the two of them were alone and fuck Peter is so blind if he can’t see all the ways Stiles bends for him where he’s steel for everyone else.

“You’ve never wanted that,” Peter finally whispers. “You’ve never—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. “No.”

“I’ve wanted it since the day you gave me a key to your apartment and told me you trusted me with it. You. Peter Hale. Trusting me with the key to your apartment. The key to your safe—”

Well shit.

Peter was blind to how far Stiles was willing to bend for him and Stiles was blind to how much Peter had already bent by him by giving Stiles his trust.

“As much as I loathe to admit it about myself,” Peter says softly as he reaches out for Stiles. “We’re both idiots when it comes to each other, aren’t we?”

Stiles collapses into Peter’s arms with a laugh. “Yeah,” he huffs as he buries his face against Peter’s neck. “But I’m your idiot. And you’re my idiot. So I guess it works out in the end.”

“I guess it does, darling. I guess it does.”

[marianne-zemo]

Love Thy Neighbour by cywscross (@cywscross​)

Steter | 22k | Teen

In which Stiles is an emancipated minor, and – after Peter Hale comes back from the dead – gains a zombie werewolf for a neighbour.