#if this is worded poorly sorry my bf started eating without me and i feel bad

[aahsoka]

i wasn't particularly pressed about it personally but it was such a wild thing to see like. there were 600 arguments going on on a post that was Truly not that deep and some of the takes were awful and some of them were genuinely good and relevant but by the time anyone got around to having something good to say it was because someone had tacked on some insane bullshit. and like idk yeah i personally didn't care but it's such a frustrating phenomenon with large posts in general. and if you'd been making a claim i think it would be responsible to expect or provide citations/a more thorough explanation but "i love bread" is not really a claim that i think needs defending. but of course within two reblogs here on tumblr people will ask if you hate people with epilepsy. because that's a normal and logical step from a two sentence post about carbs.

To be fair to them, they did reply to someone who was talking about disliking the Keto diet. So it was slightly more relevant but I do also still don’t think the leap to not considering epileptics at all is particularly warranted and it might be more productive to have that conversation about how it was originally developed for epileptics. I can see if maybe someone made a popular post that was like ‘i think we should legally ban Keto’ or something ….. like then it would be more important to mention that its used in a medical setting.

Everyone is just ….. having emotional reactions and not thinking out actual arguments or having genuine discussions and I think sometimes we gotta learn when someone is genuinely starting a discussion and when they are just doing something in the heat of the moment, and whether or not the effect is negative enough to warrant a reaction. Personally I struggle with emotional regulation so like I try to avoid things that make me mad or vent that frustration without directly confronting people lmfao. I think it’s worth it to ….. make your own posts, vent to friends, block people liberally etc rather than arguing with what is most often ….. a wall. Considering whether someone’s blog/post is personal or if they are trying to make an actual argument or spreading information etc

And like for example, as far as things that initially seem innocuous but can have negative implications, I do think instances of accidental or unconscious racism is worth being pointed out. And theres certainly a way to go ‘did this person have malicious intent?’ ‘is it worth even talking to them in the first place?’; and while I think effect often outweighs intent when it comes to systemic problems…. its worth your own first reaction (if you are going to interact instead of just blocking) to be polite and informative and if they dont return that energy then you can go. ok fuck you lol .

And yea it’s a worthwhile discussion to talk about keto and its relationship to epilepsy especially because it was taken from a medically prescribed diet that needs to be carefully monitored and mutated into a grifty fad diet to lose weight. As well as a discussion of its actual medical history and effectiveness in treating epilepsy (like I believe it doesn’t always help all patients— which is why it being monitored by doctors is important). But really thats something that needs to be a new post with intent to talk about ….. Keto and epilepsy.

and maybe this person doesnt deserve to be called out on my blog lol but like I try to just vague post abt things that bother me at least . I may delete it lol I always delete things when I get over it. Which is why I dislike replying on posts lol

anyways. thanks for sharing my frustration

I’m gonna enjoy some hainanese chicken and rice now lol

[novkat21]

[1/2] Prompt//Sterek :: Stiles gets whammied with a Lack of Inhibitions/Truth spell, and all he wants to do (much to everyone's surprise) is be clingy with Derek. (Bonus: Stiles is lonely + insecure & has a bit of a breakdown about it because lying is not a thing he can do, and Derek, who's already getting feels because of this whole situation, just goes all, *i know you, now, and shall be the most overprotective, cuddly, always here for you bf, bc that's obvi what you need*, but, of course...)

[2/2] Prompt//Sterek :: (Bonus cont’d) But, of course, is a sourwolf, I lack the necessary communication skills about it, so, when the spell’s broken, and Stiles is sure that he’s just totally pissed Der off, miscommunication/pining/angst ensues when Der starts, like, stalking him all serial-killer eyebrows and scowl (he’s just uncomfortable in crowds, okay? and Stiles’ house smells like gunpowder, and he doesn’t know… how… to do this) Bonus-bonus: Stiles, unwittingly, makes Der smile more.

Also on AO3.

~

A bright light shines down, temporarily blinding Stiles as he blinks awake. He shifts and feels a painful kink in his neck as he slides slightly on a cold, hard surface.

“Stiles.” The young man glances toward the voice to find Deaton standing over him with a look of concern. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a bus.” He groans as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “What happened?”

“That girl you thought was a witch in bio? Turns out she was,” Scott tells him, standing on the other side of the examination table. “You called her out once everyone left the room and she waved her hand all weird at you and you fell unconscious.”

“It was definitely a spell of some sort, but we’ve been waiting for you to wake up to figure out what,” Deaton explains. “Do you feel any different? Any wooziness or strange desires?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No.”

Deaton makes a sound of acknowledgement. “Well, since you’ve been unconscious for some time, we don’t really know what she did to you. If anything strange happens, let me know.”

Stiles nods and hops off the table. “Thanks, doc.” He walks with Scott out to his Jeep and pauses by the driver’s door. “She didn’t do anything to anyone else, did she?”

“Nope. Just you, man,” Scott says. “Then she booked it out of the room and I haven’t seen her since.”

“I told you there was something off with her.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that now.”

“Just believe me more often and stuff like this won’t happen.”

“I do believe you, Stiles. It’s just… I mean, she wasn’t doing anything bad, so I don’t think we should’ve cornered her like that.”

“Well, you weren’t going to do anything!” Stiles slams his mouth shut as Scott gives him a look, but then he’s talking again, unable to stop himself. “I just mean that you obviously weren’t going to talk to her and I was getting these bad vibes, which you kept brushing off when I told you about them. I knew you didn’t believe me and someone had to do something!”

Scott’s jaw drops and he takes a step back. “What the hell, Stiles?”

“I have no idea where that came from and I’m not sorry. Shit!”

“Look, I’m just gonna walk home.”

Stiles flails and grabs Scott’s arm. “No, Scott, just… Get in the car. I’ll drive you. Please.”

Scott looks at him for a long moment before he nods. “Okay.”

Stiles sighs and lets go, moving away as he watches Scott climb into the vehicle. He slowly walks around to the driver’s side, trying to figure out what could’ve caused him to say that. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that it was all the truth, not one word a lie.

What the hell is going on?

♡

Stiles stares at the computer screen as he scrolls through endless search results on his web browser, getting more frustrated by the second. A sudden cold breeze has him looking up as Derek steps inside and he notices that his tension and negative feelings wash away.

“Hey,” Derek greets, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Scott told me what happened. Are you okay?”

“No,” Stiles says automatically, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been researching for hours, but I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“You still don’t feel any different?”

“Aside from spewing out the truth and just wanting a hug from you, no.” Stiles’ eyes widen the second the words are out and tears his gaze away from Derek, who looks genuinely surprised.

“It sounds to me like a truth spell.”

Stiles focuses back on his computer. “Yeah, I figured that out. But everything I’m finding says it can only be given verbally or touch. Like a drink or an embrace.” He pauses and closes his eyes, feeling heat rush up his cheeks. “But Scott says that she didn’t do either of those. Just waved her hand and I was out.”

“She must be powerful,” Derek replies casually. “Perhaps she’s an immortal.”

Stiles glances over at the werewolf. “Those exist?”

Derek poorly hides a smile, looking utterly amused. “Most fairytale and bedtime story creatures exist. You’ve only seen a handful.”

“Great.”

“Seems you’ve got everything under control here, so I’ll just head out.”

Stiles jumps to his feet. “Wait!” Derek pauses and glances back at him, raising a brow when Stiles’ hands clench into fists at his sides. “Do you have to go?”

Derek turns completely around to look at him, both eyebrows high on his forehead. “What?”

Stiles bites his lip, then blurts out, “I want you to stay.”

“Stay…the night?”

“Yes.” Stiles clamps down on the inside of his cheek painfully, hating the spell more and more.

Derek is quiet for a long moment before he gestures to the door. “I guess I’d better join you for dinner, then.”

Stiles sputters then slowly nods and leads him down to the kitchen. His father looks up at them as he opens the pizza box. He hands them each a paper plate, lips pulled up in a grin.

“Figured since you were taking so long up there you’d be bringing a friend with ya,” his father says as he takes a seat. “How are you doing, Derek?”

Derek sits down on one of the empty chairs after placing two pieces on his plate. “I’m good, thanks.”

Stiles moves the last chair close to Derek and peers over at him after feeling his gaze. Concern flickers in his hazel eyes and Stiles looks back down at his food as he sits. “Thanks for dinner, dad. But next time, you’re not getting any pepperoni or meat lovers. I seriously don’t know what I’d do if you died of a heart attack from too much meat.”

“I’m fine, kiddo. One cheat day won’t kill me.”

“You don’t know that. No one does.” Stiles pokes at his food, jaw clenched. He feels Derek bump their knees together and glances over at the werewolf. Derek’s smiling at him. It’s small, but it’s there, even as he starts eating.

The rest of dinner is quiet, Derek and the sheriff making small talk while they finish off the pizza. Once it’s over, Stiles’ father goes into the other room and turns on some TV, leaving Derek and Stiles alone in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Derek asks.

“Just…” Stiles presses his fist against his mouth, trying to hold back the words aching to come out.

“Stiles.”

At the soft tone, Stiles smacks both hands on the table in frustration. “All I want you to do is stay the night and cuddle with me. And when you leave in the morning, I want to go with you. I would follow you anywhere, Derek. I constantly want to be by your side and hold your hand and snuggle with you and—”

“Okay, okay.” Derek places one hand over Stiles’ as the boy slowly gets worked up. “I can stay tonight. I’m sure your father won’t mind.”

“Yeah, only because I’m eighteen now. If it was six months ago, he would’ve had his shotgun aimed at your head at this point.”

They both chuckle in the quiet room. Stiles glances at his hand, Derek’s still resting over it. His gaze flickers to Derek to find the man already staring at him.

“Stiles,” Derek whispers, gaze swiveling to his lips. The space between them gets smaller as they lean in closer to each other.

A throat clears from the kitchen entrance and they jerk away, Stiles flailing his arms and nearly falling off his chair.

“Don’t you two have a pack night at the loft tonight?” his father asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh shit! I totally forgot!” Stiles exclaims, jumping from his seat. He looks at Derek anxiously. “Can you drive?”

Derek smiles as he gets to his feet. “Of course.” He meets the sheriff’s gaze and inclines his head. “You alright if he stays the night?”

The sheriff shrugs a shoulder. “He’s done it before without my consent so there’s no point in stopping him. I trust you.”

The tips of Derek’s ears turn red, his tone humble. “Thank you, sir.”

“We’ve talked about this. It’s John.”

“Right. Sorry.” Derek puts his hand on the small of Stiles back and walks out to the Camaro with him. They both climb in and Derek heads to the loft.

“Sorry about the, uh, the almost-kiss back there,” Stiles mumbles as he stares out the window. “I was just saying stuff I couldn’t stop from saying—nor wanted to stop from saying. And then you were looking at me and then our hands and—”

“Stiles, it’s fine,” Derek says gently. “I know you’re not able to hold anything back with your words right now, but I don’t mind.”

Stiles peers over at the werewolf questioningly. “Really?”

Derek glances at him with a small smile. “Really. Let’s go have some fun with the rest of the pack. You won’t even have to worry about the truth spell.”

Nodding, Stiles gets out once Derek parks and follows him up to his living space. The pack is already inside the loft—Scott let them in with his key—and turning on a movie, a variety of snack foods scattered across the coffee table.

“Hey, you finally made it!” Erica shouts with a grin. “And you came together! Took you guys long enough.”

Stiles halts in the middle of the room, Derek right beside him. “What?”

“We all know you have a thing for Derek,” Jackson says before he takes a sip of his soda. “It’s kind of obvious.”

Stiles feels the blood drain from his face even as the words spill out of his mouth, “Yeah, I know. I’m not very subtle in that regard.”

The pack all stares at him for a moment in shocked silence.

“You what?” Lydia asks as Jackson busts out laughing.

“I have a crush on Derek and I’m not subtle about it. At all.” Derek looks at him with bewilderment and concern. Too late to turn back, Stiles tosses his hands in the air, a blush quickly rising up his cheeks. “I don’t know why you’re all surprised! I’m sure you could smell the arousal and shit.”

“Yeah, it reeks!” Jackson says once he calms down.

“Shut up, Jackson,” Malia snaps. “Can’t you see he’s upset?”

“He shouldn’t have said anything, then.”

“I can’t stop myself, you asshole!” Stiles yells. “Look, all I want to do is watch a movie with you all and cuddle up with Derek on the couch and forget this ever happened.” Jackson cracks up again, toppling off the loveseat. Lydia rolls her eyes and gives Stiles a sympathetic look. Tears of embarrassment fill his eyes as Stiles looks away from the group.

“Stiles,” Derek says softly, a hand on his shoulder.

A part of Stiles wants to shrug it off and run out, but the other part—the part that’s being controlled by the spell—has him leaning into the touch. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“Dude, it’s pack night,” Scott states, sounding almost accusatory. “You can’t just spend it with Derek.”

“I want to because I’m…I’m lonely. I mean, you all have someone and I…I have no one. Derek and I get along really well and I’ve been pining after him for a while. I can’t help it. I’ve tried to ignore my crush, to get over it, but I just can’t. And I feel less lonely when he’s around and…” A tear slips down Stiles’ cheek and then he finally breaks away, dashing up the spiral staircase. He hears Derek, Lydia, Erica, and Isaac yell after him, but ignores them all as he hides in the first bathroom he sees, locking the door behind him. He sits on the lid of the toilet and lets the tears fall, gripping his hair tightly.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “Why did this have to happen to me?”

He stays in there for a while as he breaks down, trying to ignore the fact that the pack can hear everything. He slumps to the floor and curls up into a ball, his mind in an endless self-loathing loop.

After what feels like forever, a knock sounds on the door. Stiles lifts his head, wishing for a brief moment that he were a werewolf so he would know who was on the other side.

“Stiles, open the door,” Derek’s voice carries through the wood, soft and gentle. Stiles pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, refusing to say a word. “Everyone’s gone. It’s just you and me. Come out.” Sighing, he gets to his feet and reluctantly opens the door, wiping at his eyes. Arms wrap around him and pull him against a hard chest, which he nearly melts against. “Did you still want to watch a movie with me tonight?”

Stiles nods, letting the feeling of warmth and comfort wash over him. “Please.”

“Alright, you can pick the movie.” Stiles smiles and holds Derek’s hand as the werewolf leads him downstairs. He wanders over to the movie selection and picks one out, putting it in the DVD player. He curls up on the couch next to Derek, snuggling closer when he feels the man wrap an arm around him. He stays quiet the rest of the night, not feeling the need to comment on anything for once.

♡

The morning light streams in through the large window in the loft, pulling Stiles from his sleep. He blinks a few times as memories of yesterday come back. He sits up and finds he’s alone on the couch with a light blanket over him, the TV shut off, all the lights off and the front door locked.

He swallows thickly and tosses the blanket aside, standing up with a stretch. Glancing around for his keys, he pauses, remembering that Derek drove them here. He lets out a heavy sigh and fixes his laces before he unlocks the door and heads out. He walks down the steps, the metal thunking loudly under his feet. He reaches the sidewalk and starts to head in the direction of his house when Derek runs up to him. He stops and stares at the shirtless man before him, sweat glistening off his skin, hair damp and pushed back.

“You’re up early,” Derek greets.

“Sun woke me up,” Stiles replies. “Damn, you look hot.”

“Uh, thanks. Where are you going?”

Stiles blinks and finally tears his gaze away from Derek’s chest. “Home.”

Derek’s expression immediately changes from friendly and kind to concerned in a split second. “On foot? That’s thirty minutes away and it’s not exactly warm outside today. Why didn’t you just wait for me?”

Stiles shrugs and scuffs his shoe on the pavement. “I didn’t think you wanted me around anymore since I woke up alone.”

“I went for a run. I didn’t think you’d be up by the time I got back.”

“Well, I was. And I felt kinda stupid for even staying over.”

Derek takes a step closer, one hand reaching out but halting in midair before he pulls it back to his side. “Don’t feel stupid. I was the stupid one for leaving you alone. Come on, I’ll make it up with some breakfast.”

Stiles grins and follows him back up to the loft. He sits down on the couch and watches Derek move around the kitchen. He wraps his arms around his bent legs and rests his chin on his knees.

“You’re really attractive when you’re in the kitchen like that,” he blurts.

Derek glances back at him with an amused grin. “In the kitchen cooking?” Stiles nods as heat rushes up his neck and cheeks, Derek’s chuckle echoing in the space around them.

♡

“So I was thinking we could go talk to Deaton today, see if he has anything that could help you,” Derek says after they finish eating.

“I’ve never trusted the guy,” Stiles replies. “But if you think he’ll be able to help, sure.”

“He’s our best chance right now since the internet gave you nothing.”

Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. “Research is a lot harder than you think, dude.”

Derek shakes his head as he grabs his keys and walks with Stiles out to the Camaro. “Then why do you always insist on doing it for us?”

“I don’t really do it for anyone but you. And because I like you.”

Derek hums, both getting in the car. “I don’t think you need to keep reminding me of that. I already know.”

Stiles scowls at him as he buckles his seatbelt, Derek peeling out of the parking lot. “You think I like repeating myself? It just keeps happening. I just really really like you.”

Derek lets out a soft sigh, but doesn’t say anything as he keeps driving. Stiles turns his attention out the window, watching all the colors blur as they pass through the city. The rest of the drive is quiet save for the purring of the Camaro’s engine. They pull up in front of the vet’s clinic and walk inside.

“Derek, Stiles,” Deaton greets as he looks up from some papers on the front counter. “How can I help you?”

“It was a truth spell,” Stiles tells him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What the witch did to me. I have no control over what I’m saying.”

“Ah, then it must’ve been a powerful one. Most truth spells I know of have to be given orally or by touch.”

“I know. We already figured that out.”

“We just need help finding a cure, if possible,” Derek says.

Deaton looks contemplative for a moment. “I think I may have something. One moment.”

Stiles glances over at Derek as the doctor goes into the back. Derek’s expression is closed off, staring straight ahead. “I wish I hadn’t gotten hit by this spell so it hadn’t ruined anything between us.”

Derek turns to him after a moment. “You didn’t ruin anything, Stiles.”

“But you’re mad at me.”

“No, I’m not,” Derek mutters, eyes softening slightly. “You don’t have any control—”

“Would you stop saying that? I already know I don’t have control! I don’t need a stupid reminder!”

Derek’s jaw clenches, gaze darkening, and Stiles internally curses. Deaton comes out of the back with a small book in his hand at that moment, saving Stiles from saying anything else. They both turn to him and move closer to the counter.

Deaton opens up the book to a random page, then points at the truth spell section. “I have an appointment coming in any minute so I don’t have time to read anything right now. But take a look at this and see if you can find anything. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Stiles grumbles as he takes the book and walks out of the clinic.

He gets in the Camaro and immediately starts sifting through book. He keeps his focus on it as Derek slides behind the wheel and drives. Stiles skims through the unique drawings and languages that have been written into the parchment, some of them so old they’re too faded to be legible.

He glances up when he feels Derek’s eyes on him and finds that they’ve arrived at the loft. “Why didn’t you drop me off at my place?”

“I’m going to help you research,” Derek says simply. Stiles closes the book, gets out and heads up the stairs. He hears Derek leave the vehicle and follow after him. “Stiles.”

“Don’t worry about it, Derek. We’ll get this figured out so I can get out of your hair. I know I’m just annoying you by now.”

He stops by the loft’s door and waits for Derek, who appears a second later, brow pulled down in his infamous scowl. Stiles rolls his eyes and walks past him into the living area, plopping down on the couch.

The book is abruptly yanked out of his hands and Stiles stares up at Derek. “What the hell?”

“I’ll look through this, you go get your laptop,” Derek tells him as he sits down on the recliner, opening the book.

“I couldn’t find anything on the internet! That’s why we went to Deaton, remember?!”

“You can research these images and words. Unless you understand them?” Derek’s gaze flickers to him questioningly and Stiles sighs, getting up and grabbing his laptop. He situates himself back on the couch and turns the device on.

A few hours later, Derek heaves a heavy sigh and closes the book as Stiles leans back against the plush cushions.

“That was pointless,” Stiles mutters.

Derek stands up and looks at him. “How are you feeling? Need to spout off any random information?”

Stiles scowls at him, then sits upright and closes his laptop. “Thanks for the help, but I want to go home. Can you give me a ride?” Stiles doesn’t notice the look of dismay on Derek’s face as he picks up the book. When he turns back to the werewolf, a scowl is set in place and Derek gestures him to the front door.

Derek drops Stiles off at his house without another word and he goes up to his room, setting both the laptop and book on the desk. He falls down on his bed and screams into his pillow, letting out all the frustration that had been building up the past two days. He rolls his head over and stares at the clock as the minutes slowly go by.

Stiles pulls his phone out of his pocket and glares at it before going to his messages and pulling up his conversation with Derek. He sits up and looks down at the screen, biting his lip. His lack of control from the spell has him typing out a text and sending it before he throws himself backward.

“I hate this spell,” he mumbles while he glares up at the ceiling.

“What do you want Stiles?” Stiles flails as Derek climbs through the window and stands beside it, hands in his pockets.

“I want you.” Stiles curses and punches the mattress as he looks away. “Look, I just want you to stay nearby and hang out and maybe cuddle because I can’t get you off my mind.”

A sigh. “I can’t do that.”

Stiles looks over at him with wide eyes. “What?”

Derek’s shoulders are hunched over, gaze on the floor. “I can’t stick around. Not right now.”

“Why not? Is it because of everything I’ve said?” Stiles gets to his feet and takes a step toward the werewolf. “Because if you’re worried I don’t want this—you—you’re wrong. I do. I haven’t been able to lie at all. Everything I’ve said is true.”

“Stiles, you haven’t wanted to say a word of what’s come out of your mouth in the past twenty-four hours. I know it’s all true, but…it’s not fair to you.”

“What, you want me to lie instead? I can’t really do that!”

“I know that. But you can’t really stay away from me either and I don’t want you to do something because of the spell when you’re really not ready for it.”

Stiles flails again, his throat tightening, eyes burning. “I don’t want you to leave because I’m lonely and you’re the only one who’s been willing and able to spend time with me nowadays!” Derek leans back, looking as though he’s been hit in the face. “Scott’s always busy with Malia, Lydia has Jackson, Isaac, Boyd and Erica are always hanging out, but none of them even think of asking how I’m doing! You’re the only one, Derek!

“And you’re right, I haven’t wanted to say anything. Mainly because I didn’t think you’d care, just like the rest of the pack. I’ve wanted to keep it all inside because I’ve been terrified of what it would do to us, to our friendship, and I haven’t wanted to ruin that. Also, have you seen me? I’m not much to look at.” Stiles takes a deep breath then wipes at the tears running down his cheeks, turning away. “You know what? Just go. I don’t want you here anymore.”

“Stiles, I—”

“I said go!” Stiles crumples to the floor after hearing the rustle of Derek’s clothes slowly fade and disappear out the window, sobs wracking his body. His father finds him an hour later, curled up in the same spot, and just holds him.

“Not tonight, Scotty,” Stiles mutters into the phone as he walks up to his front door.

“Dude, it’s pack night,” Scott argues. “You’ve never missed one!”

“I don’t want to go and I’m not going to. Sorry.”

“Why not? Is it because of the spell? Is it still bothering you?”

Stiles walks inside his house, closing and locking the door behind him. “It doesn’t matter the reason. I’m not going. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he ends the call and wanders up to his room. He sits down at his desk, drags his backpack closer, and starts researching for his English paper.

Time passes quickly and the next thing he knows, someone’s tapping on his window. Glancing over, he sees the sun has set, his monitor casting an eerie glow in his room. The tapping sounds again and Stiles sighs, getting up and unlocking it. Derek peeks his head in, handing him a paper.

Stiles scowls, but takes the paper and skims over it. “You want me to research a centaur?”

“It attacked some of your peers last night. Malia saw it—briefly—before it disappeared,” Derek explains.

“Weird. They were usually pretty domestic.” Stiles walks back to his desk and sets the paper down, fingers flying over the keyboard. He listens to Derek climb into the room, but keeps his gaze on the screen in front of him.

Silence falls between them and, by the sound of Derek’s shuffling, it’s getting awkward for him.

“You made this centaur up,” Stiles states a few minutes later.

“What?” Derek sounds surprised, halting all movement.

Stiles spins his chair and glares at Derek. “You made it up. Centaurs have been extinct for over two hundred years and the last known one was in New Zealand. There’s no spells to create one or bring one back from the dead. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. So what are you really doing here, Derek?”

Derek’s brow pulls down into a scowl. “Forget it.”

“I did piss you off, didn’t I?” Stiles whispers before he’s jumping out of his chair as Derek turns to leave. “That spell ruined everything we had, didn’t it? You were just pretending to be nice the entire time.” Stiles scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, that’ll make it easier to get over you.”

“Stiles, shut up!” Derek snap, whirling around and slamming Stiles against the wall. Stiles opens his mouth to yell at him when the werewolf’s tongue slips inside, their lips smashing together, teeth clacking. Stiles’ brain immediately shuts down, shock washing over him, before he’s kissing Derek back. His fingers slide into Derek’s hair, the other hand gripping his shoulder as he lets the other man take control. The kiss is rough and impatient and urgent, but Stiles can feel the longing behind it.

They break apart for air, faces flushed as they stare into each other’s eyes.

“So, I, um, didn’t make you mad?” Stiles asks softly.

“You could never make me mad, Stiles,” Derek replies, voice just as quiet. “I was only upset because you obviously didn’t like blurting all that out. I wanted you to be able to say it on your own terms.”

“But what about you not…you know…saying you couldn’t?”

Derek sighs and rests his forehead against Stiles’, closing his eyes. “I didn’t believe it, honestly. I could hear the steadiness of your heart, but I just…I never thought you could fall for me.”

“Why not?” Stiles places both hands on either side of Derek’s face, looking him in the eye. “Derek, you are the most selfless person I have ever known. You have the biggest heart. Anyone would be blind to not see that. That truth spell was a pain in the ass, but it helped me—us—in the end, right?”

A blinding smile shines on Derek’s face. “Right.”

Stiles smiles back and pulls Derek into another kiss, this one slow and gentle, both of them pouring all of their feelings into it. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, holding onto him tightly, silently thanking the witch who started it all.

[codename-bewareofthefangirl]

Can I request AoKawa? Where Ahomine uhm shows his bf to the rest of the gom for the first time? Fluff and comedy please, especially their reactions and faces? Also, totally off topic but I think Kasamatsu and Iwaizumi would get along well, whadaya think? Thank you!!!

YES DEAR! YESYOU CAN ASK IT! THANK YOU FOR IT! *composed herself again* I’ve had a lot offun writing this! Just a few things in case you haven’t read my hc: Kagami goesto the same university as Oikawa and Aomine, but he’s in a different room; he’sthe main reason they didn’t starved to death the first months. Kise is the onewho introduced Aomine and Oikawa to each other; the rest doesn’t know him.

About theKasamatsu thing: YES! I have this absolute love for the idea of a double dateIwaOi + KiKasa (IwaOi is my Canon OTP, AoKawa my Crossover OTP) where Iwaizumiand Kasamatsu bond over how childish and annoying their boyfriends can be,exchanging tips and suggestion to how tame them. (Kasamatsu is still shockedIwaizumi has survived Oikawa from childhood)

Oikawa and The Rainbow Guys

Oikawa and Aomine were strolling in a park not too far from their apartment, bashing in the afternoon sun and comforted by the laughter of children around them. Oikawa was fully covered with different layers of clothes even if it was only October, while the second only wore a light blue jacket over his black hoodie with short sleeves.

“Aren’t you happy we are on a date?” Aomine rolled his eyes, huffing and giving a side-glance to his boyfriend.

Oikawa blinked, wrapped in his warm scarf, and tilted his head confused since he hadn’t complained yet. He was truly happy about the date. Usually, it was always him the one who dragged Aomine outside, after hours of pouting and whining; so, when that early afternoon, the boy had asked him to go out together, Oikawa had risked exploding from the excitement. Yet, that day there was something strange about Aomine’s behavior, but he couldn’t exactly spot what.

“We’re going to play basketball,” Oikawa decided to tease him a bit, with a grin.

“The best kind of date,” Aomine argued, smirking and flicking his forehead.

“I play volleyball,” Oikawa pointed out and the other rolled his eyes again. As if he didn’t know: he humbly thought that there was nothing hotter than his boyfriend setting or serving, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“Still a good date.”

“Well…” Oikawa purred, brushing casually with the head against his shoulder, “It doesn’t feel really date-y like right now…” he alluded childishly, showing him the best puppy eyes he had.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Aomine growled trying to be annoyed, but his grin betrayed him. Without Oikawa adding anything else, he just grabbed the brunette’s hand and interlaced their fingers.

“Better?” he hummed quietly, looking ahead with the tan skin of his cheeks slightly reddish.

Oikawa giggled, hiding till the nose in the muffler.

“Better,” he agreed satisfied, giving him a fond glance.

Ah, that was it. Aomine was strangely more kind and compliant than usual. Not that he had ever treated Oikawa poorly, but he had rough manners and a blunt personality. And he was like a cat: lazy, unpredictable and spoiled in his own way.

Without Oikawa realizing it, they had arrived at the street basketball court. And, thinking back about it, maybe he should have paid more attention. Because what he was expecting was an afternoon spent goofing around with Aomine, trying to learn how to play, and then end up kissing his boyfriend laying on the court. Well, he was mistaking.

The court was already occupied and, with his great horror, he recognized a giant with flaming red hair and another well-known sparkling blond head. He tried to stop on the spot, his brain quickly realizing what was going to happen, but Aomine mercilessly dragged him inside.

“Dai-chan wai-“ he whispered terrified. He wasn’t ready at all. That coward of a…

“Oi guys!” Aomine shouted to have the attention of the group of rainbow guys there reunited, “Here's my boyfriend. We’re going to play with you,” he announced, raising their linked hands.

… idiot boyfriend.

Oikawa observed horrified the reactions of that group.

Kagami slammed a hand against his forehead, sighing deeply and shaking his head. He really couldn’t believe Aomine had just done something like that.

A green-haired boy froze in the middle of a shoot, goggling at them dumbfounded, and the ball comically bounced on his head.

The violet-haired one with the arms full of food stopped eating, with a candy popping out from his mouth, and blinked at them, caught by surprise.

A redhead stumbled to his feet and looked up at Oikawa with creepy, inquiring eyes.

A cute girl with pink hair started crying, covering her mouth with both hands.

Fuck.

And in the middle of everything, Kise burst into a loud laughter.

“Ki-chan!”  Oikawa yelled at him, on the verge of a hysterical crisis, and the blonde ran towards him with his arms wide open.

“Oikawacchi!” he greeted the brunette cheerfully, jumping on him for a wild hug. Oikawa left Aomine’s hand and caught him, staggering a bit. “How are you?” he asked, bubbling.

“My idiot boyfriend has just introduced me to his former teammates, practically his second family, in the worst way possible. How do you think I am?” he replied in a hiss with a stifled, nervous smile; he was doing his best to not cause a scene or panic publicly.

Kise laughed again, letting him go but still keeping an arm around his shoulder.

“Sorry Oikawacchi!” he chirped grinning, “I didn’t manage to stop him!” he explained giggling, but Oikawa’s glare froze his blood.

“You knew it?” he asked with a dangerously sweet tone, and Kise gulped realizing his mistake, “You’re going to pay for this, Ki-chan, you're going to pay” Oikawa added with a sugarcoated smile that promised hell.

Before that the terrified blonde, he had recently discovered how dangerous Oikawa could be, could answer, Aomine, annoyed, shoved Kise away with a small kick in the back.

“Hands off,” he muttered narrowing his eyes and, on any other occasion Oikawa would have beamed, loving to see his boyfriend getting protective of him, but not now. Now he only wanted to punch Aomine square in the face.

“Hands off, my ass!” he hissed, staring angrily at him, “You didn’t even say my name, you stupid basketball head! Brute! That’s not how you introduce your boyfriend!” he protested with red cheeks, crossing his arms.

Aomine scratched his nape, averting his eyes embarrassed. Damn, he knew Oikawa was going to complain, but it hadn’t been easy for him either. However, he had wanted them to see the real Oikawa, the one he fell for. He knew that if he had told Oikawa about the meeting, he would have prepared himself and built again his charming, polite, composed and perfect façade for the occasion; he would have probably studied them beforehand to be sure to give what he thought it was his best impression. And Aomine couldn’t stand his fake smiles anymore, especially after they had started officially dating. His childish or excited ones were far better.

“Ah yes…” the tanned boy mumbled, noticing how all his friends had started to gather around them, “He’s-”

“Oikawa Tooru, volleyball player. Setter and captain. He had played with Kitagawa Daichi and then Aoba Jousai. Considered the best setter of the Miyagi Prefecture. Currently playing in his university team and training for the Japan Youth Team. Nicknamed The Grand King,” Akashi interrupted him, giving an extremely detailed explanation of who he was.

Oikawa paralyzed, looking at the redhead stunned. Was he a stalker or what?

“Is it normal?” he whispered worriedly at Aomine.

The boy sighed, rubbing his temples. That was exactly why he didn’t want to bring Oikawa with him. Obviously, his former captain didn’t give a damn about that.

“I’m Akashi Seijuurou, former captain of the Generation of Miracles. The Emperor. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Akashi introduced himself, stretching his hand to Oikawa with a polite smile, “I usually keep track of my friends’ life, however, I had unfortunately missed the most recent…even,” he added, far too interested in the boy.

Something in his tone or his choice of words, ticked off Oikawa’s pride. Straightening a bit and showing his intimidating, captain’ smile, he shook it confidently.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied smoothly with matching politeness, their eyes both shined dangerously in a way Aomine definitely didn’t like. Emperor and King? Not the best match. Well, at least Oikawa beamed realizing he was taller than Akashi: he was up to the (undefined) challenge.

“Tooru-kun!” the girl who he had seen crying, suddenly throw himself onto Oikawa, who let himself be hugged, without knowing how to react, “I’m so happy to finally know you! Dai-chan always talked on and on about you, but refused to let me meet you! He didn’t send me a photo either! To think he had conquered a good-looking and talented guy like you! Thank you for putting up with him, I know he’s a bother but he’s kind. Deep down,” she complained with an adorable pout, dividing himself from him and showing a bright smile.

“I’m Momoi Satsuki, Dai-chan’s childhood friend.” At her words, finally Oikawa relaxed a bit. Alright, she knew her name and Aomine had talked about her too, so some pieces of the puzzle started getting in their place. A childhood friend, currently living in another city and frequenting an elite university, former manager with freaking skills about analyzing and predicting players’ development, the strategist of the team. Everything was under control. For a moment, Oikawa had feared she was some ex-girlfriend or something similar.

“It’s a pleasure, Momoi-chan!” he chirped happily, glad to finally know a person who held such a special place in his boyfriend’s heart. To be honest, he had wanted to meet all of them from the start, but not like that, okay? Not unprepared, not without having organized what to say and how to introduce himself in the best way, not while wearing his alien t-shirt. What if they didn’t like him and persuaded Aomine he wasn’t worthy? He loved being a drama queen, but he would have liked to avoid Romeo and Juliet’s kind of love story.  

“Talked on and on?” Oikawa then mused at Aomine, raising an eyebrow, and the boy coughed embarrassed, “So sappy!” the brunet mocked him playfully, but feeling a sparkly bubble in his chest. Well, Aomine wasn’t the gossiping or talkative guy: knowing he had talked about him with Momoi was important for Oikawa.

“I didn’t know you were this sappy too, Aomine-kun.” A quiet, sudden voice rose from beside Oikawa, scaring the hell out him.

He screeched, practically jumping into his boyfriend’s arms and Aomine chuckled amusedly at his exaggerated reaction. He was waiting for that from the start.

“Ah, sorry. I’m Kuroko Tetsuya,” The faint, calm guy who had appeared literally from nowhere introduced himself politely, “I’m happy to meet you in person.”

When did he arrive? Was he already there? What the hell?

Oikawa, embarrassed, elbowed Aomine, who was still laughing, and composed himself, shaking Kuroko’s hand with a polite smile. While he was doing that, a sudden thought crossed his mind and he turned to look at Kagami, dumbfounded.

“Tiger-chan! Is he your boyfriend? The ghost player?” he asked excitedly, with starry eyes. Finally!

Aomine scoffed, Kise laughed at hearing “Tiger-chan” and even Kuroko arched his eyebrow with a glint of amusement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kagami huffed scratching his head, “Happy to see you Oikawa. Again,” he greeted him without enthusiasm. He had seen him only five hours ago when the brunette had busted into his room asking again how to cook curry rice because Aomine was outside and he was hungry. No need to add that, in the end, Kagami had cooked for him.

The guy ignored his exasperation and looked curiously at Kuroko, who returned the stare with the same interest. They only knew each other thanks to the respective boyfriend and friend and wanted to confirm with their own eyes if the other was as amazing as they described it.

“I’m happy that you seem normal, at least,” Oikawa exhaled gladly after some seconds, “Except for the ghost thing.”

“Sorry, they can be overwhelming,” Kuroko nodded, understanding where he came from. As if he wasn’t as crazy as them.

“Ehm, ehm,” the green-haired guy coughed to have Oikawa’s attention and offered his hand, “Midorima Shintarou,” he introduced himself briefly.

“Ah, Oikawa Tooru,” The brunette repeated, tilting slightly his head to the right; if he wasn’t mistaken, Midorima was something like a perfect shooter or…

“I’ve happened to see you playing on TV,” Midorima added, fixing his glass, “You’ve really an amazing aim to serve like that,” he complimented him, stiff and awkward.

Yes, he was definitely the shooter.

“Thank you, Midorima-kun,” Oikawa replied smiling, more relaxed when talking or even just mentioning volleyball.

“So this is Mine-chin’s boyfriend?” the violet giant towered over Oikawa, who shifted uncomfortably. Why they had to be that tall? He really felt like hiding behind Aomine in that moment. He was surrounded by giants.

“Yes. Oikawa Tooru,” he replied stretching out his hand.

The boy ignored it and patted his head.

“So tiny,” he commented before placing in the brunette’s hand a packet of gummy bears, “Eat them. I’m Murasakibara Atsushi,” he said expressionlessly.

Oikawa gritted his teeth, clenching his fist around the gift and with a vein popping on his forehead, and smirked surrounded by a menacing aura.

“Dai-chan, is your friend picking a fight? Is he?” he hissed with a dangerous glint in his eyes and Aomine hurried to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him calm.

“H-he isn’t. Calm down,” he huffed, trying to conceal his amusement, but Oikawa knew him too well.

“I’m not short, it is you guys who are monsters!” he pouted at him, puffing out his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aomine smirked, proud of being taller than him, “Sure.”

Murasakibara just gave him a pitying glance.

Midorima, Kagami and Kise exchanged a guilty look. Well, he was shorter than them…

“I agree with Oikawa-kun,” Kuroko commented coldly, shooting what Oikawa thought it was a glare at Kagami, who shivered.

 “Same,” Akashi sighed, crossing his arms, and Oikawa beamed up.

“See?” The brunet taunted his boyfriend, lifting the chin, “Listen to your Captain, Dai-chan,” he singsonged mischievously.

Aomine grinned, tightening the hold around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Now you team up with him?” he purred in his low, deep voice; his hungry eyes lingered on Oikawa’s lips a second too much.

“Please, guys! Take a room!” Kise howled at them, smirking, and Kagami snorted.

Aomine rolled his eyes letting Oikawa distance himself a bit, with flushed cheeks. The brunette still managed to glare at the blonde. Oh, Kise was gonna pay for everything. However, seeing Midorima’s embarrassed expression and Momoi, Kuroko and Akashi’s definitely too curious and interested ones, he decided to postpone the kiss. It would have been like doing it in front of your cousins or brothers, no? And to be honest, those three seemed ready to take photos of the two of them like some sort of scary aunts.

“Okay, okay,” Aomine grumbled annoyed, deciding he had enough for that day, “The show is finished. You’ve met him and embarrassed us, happy? We can move on,” he growled, letting the boy go and taking off his jacket. Oikawa instinctively stared at the defined muscles of his tanned arm, blessing that black hoodie, but quickly averted his eyes when he heard Kise chuckling.

“Eh?” Momoi whined disappointed, “But I wanted to ask him a lot of things! The first encounter! How did you met, the first kiss…” she listed with heart-shaped eyes, but Aomine snorted pushing, gently, her way.

“Not now Satsuki,” he interrupted her, “We’re here to play," he reminded all of them, a sort of hunger in his tone. At his words, all the guys brightened up and returned on the court, joking with each other and discussing the teams with flames in their eyes.

“Ready?” then Aomine asked Oikawa, ignoring the pouting Momoi who went to sit on the border.

The brunette blinked and pointed a finger at himself.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Aomine stated firmly, before unzipping his boyfriend’s jacket and taking it off for him since he didn’t seem inclined to do it by himself; he also took off the scarf and the gummy bears from his hands, throwing everything on the ground beside Momoi. That got Oikawa glaring at him, but briefly, since he had a more compelling problem.

“Basketball. With the Generation of Miracles,” Oikawa articulated slowly, his brown eyes wide with surprise, “A group of monstrously talented players, half of them a whole head taller than me.”

“Yes,” His boyfriend repeated in a grunt, pinching his nose.

“I play volleyball. Setter, remember?” He shook his head, incredulous, gesturing at his body, “I can’t keep up with you guys,” he sighed dismissing his offer with a hand.

“We’ve already played together. You’re not bad for an amateur.” Aomine shrugged, without any intention to surrender. Even if he wasn’t going to admit it aloud, he liked playing with Oikawa. A different type of “like” from when he played matches or against Kagami or Kise, but still “like”. A bubbling, warm “like”.

“I know,” Oikawa scoffed proudly, aware that being complimented by Aomine regarding basketball was more worthy than any other praise, “I’m better than you playing volleyball, at least," he grinned, making him roll his eyes. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Come on! Oikawa!” Kagami yelled from the court, already a ball in his hands, but the brunette stuck out his tongue at him.

“Next time, we’re going to play volleyball,” Aomine conceded to bribe him, knowing how much Oikawa wanted it, “Or are you too scared of losing?” he challenged, lifting Oikawa’s chin with a finger. He grimaced averting his eyes.

“I don’t like don’t being good,” he admitted proudly and Aomine chuckled. Yeah, he knew Oikawa hated not being perfect at everything he did, but they we working on it. He needed to relax and enjoy himself more: dorky, clumsy Oikawa was the best. Except for volleyball player Oikawa.

“Don’t worry, idiot!” Aomine reassured him, flashing him a rare, bright and excited smile, “You’re playing with me. The only one who can beat me is me,” he reminded him playfully, before grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the other rainbow guys.

“We’re going to win for sure!”

And damn, Oikawa could only follow him love-struck. He really couldn’t resist that smile at all.