This is a hodge-podge collection of shit I reblog. Fandoms galore. Sometimes the tags are entertaining. Sometimes maybe not so much.

Real talk time, I will be flailing over my ships about 99% of the time, so just be prepared for that. You have been warned.



prayer circle that derek and stiles are at least in the same room this episode jesus christ


at the same time pls and thank you werewolf jesus


Android AU - In the world where technology has no limitations, Derek has one of the most boring jobs. He works in an android factory and every single day is the same. Every day he runs tens of androids through a basic check-up before sending them to be sold. If any of them show any signs of malfunction, he disassembles them and moves to the next one. Simple as that. Or is it? What if an android has a mind of his own? Is being too human a malfunction?

write this write this NOW


(Source: prettiestcaptain)



the hales always have a table of pies at the beacon hills winter craft fair. and every year stiles buys one for his dad. and uses that time to ogle derek hale and sample his jams

and derek marvels at one one man can get that much jam on his…


Sterek AU (part one): Where Stiles and Derek knew each other before the fire, and when Derek returns seven years later Stiles realizes that Derek never really forgot about him quite at all.


Stiles is slouched down in the hospital seat of the waiting room when he first meets Derek, long legs and knobby knees sprawled out in front of him, chin tucked into his neck as his father talks with the doctors in the other room.

He doesn’t even notice Derek come in.

“Hey there.”

The voice is kind, sounds older than Stiles’ own too-young and cracking voice, and Stiles drags his eyes away from the scuffs in his shoes.

The boy is older than Stiles, a teenager with dark hair and pale green eyes and sharp angles in his face. When he smiles it looks easy, fits his mouth like it’s something so often to appear.

Stiles jolts up in his seat, shoves the back of his hand into his sleep-tinged eyes, red and swollen from crying.

The boy chuckles, crouches down in front of Stiles so that they’re at level height. His eyes are more than just green, kind of yellow but not really, maybe a bit blue if Stiles squints.

“I’m Derek,” he says.

Derek has funny ears.

“What’s your name?” he cocks his head to the side, a soft smile lingering on his mouth.

Stiles sniffs through his nose, chews on his mouth. “Stiles,” he replies.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles.”

He offers Stiles a stick of gum. “Want one?”

Derek has big hands, teenager hands, not at all like Stiles’ eight-year-old hands, hands that are always twitching by his sides and touching things that shouldn’t be touched.

“I’m not allowed to have sweets,” Stiles blurts out.

Derek’s mouth tugs in amusement. He says, “I won’t tell, if…”

Stiles snatches the candy from Derek’s hand, twists his neck around with wide eyes to make sure that no one is looking. He stuffs the gum in his mouth and watches as Derek rises to his feet.

“I’ll see you around, maybe?” Derek says, playfully rubs a hand over Stiles’ buzz cut. “My cousin’s in the hospital.” He sounds sad, despite the casual way in which he holds himself.

Stiles doesn’t want to talk about his mom.

“Oh, by the way,” Derek turns by the doorway, hand splayed loosely against the frame as he peers over his shoulder at Stiles. “That’s sugar free gum.”


The Derek that is standing in the woods is nothing like the Derek that Stiles remembers him to be. He’s wearing a leather jacket with sleeves that hang around his fingers; his boots stomp heavily upon the forest floor when he approaches Scott and Stiles.

“This is private property,” he tells them, in a voice that Stiles never remembers coming from those lips. He stares at Derek in some gaping form of horror and shock, as Derek stares back with stony eyes and a mouth set firm.

It’s all Stiles can do to croak out some stuttered apology, rub a hand anxiously over his scalp and duck his face away, heart pounding in his lungs and making his hand shake in his pocket.

Scott stuffs his inhaler into his jacket as Derek’s feet crunch down leaves and branches that snap in the echoing expanse of the quiet forest.

Stiles can’t even watch his retreating form.

“That’s Derek Hale,” he breathes out. And the words spoken aloud makes everything come crashing down around him, the smell of hospital halls and late night homework and Derek’s patient voice guiding him through too-hard mathematical questions, seven times six is forty-two.

The stick of spearmint gum in Stiles’ pocket burns like an imprint against his palm.


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(Source: monroesimon)


#requesting au of stiles taking selfies #and he’s doing it for a full 10 minutes before he realises derek’s standing in the doorway #'uh what it's this new haircut it's taking some getting used to' #and derek’s like o rly that’s what you were doing suure #and then takes the phone out of stiles hand and scrolls through them smirking before handing it back #and stiles is like ‘just because you look like the love child of clooney’s and hugh jackman doesn’t mean the rest of us are that lucky’ a… #but he looks at his phone again after derek leaves and there’s one of the photos #sitting in the sent items #to derek’s number #and stiles is all ohh #and that’s the story of how stiles and derek started sexting (x)

ily niamh

"Who’s a sexy bitch, you’re a sexy bitch, aw yeah,” Stiles laughed, flicking through his new photos before turning his camera back on and tilting his head to the side and looking up at the lens through his eyelashes, before flipping it back around to look at his newest creation. “Sometimes I have no idea why you’re single,” he sighed, letting out a little snort of laughter.

"Pretty sure the duckface is the next logic—woah, Derek!" Stiles fumbled with his phone, dropping it into his lap when he saw Derek leaning against his doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing across his features. "Hi," he laughed nervously, sliding his phone between his thighs. "Sorry, the new hair’s kinda taking some getting used to."

Derek took a step forward, and raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure it is.”

He walked towards Stiles and took the phone from him, his thumb sliding up the inseam of Stiles’ jeans and his mouth kicked up at the corner when he heard Stiles’ breath catch and his heartbeat flutter in his chest. He scrolled through the album, his smile growing wider before tapping a few buttons and handing it back to Stiles, who was scowling at him, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Just so you know, not everyone can look like the magical love child of Hugh Jackman and George Clooney," he called out to Derek’s retreating back. "Some of us just aren’t that lucky and ha…" he trailed off when he saw a new message from Derek and wait, did Derek just send one of Stiles’ selfies to himself?

His heartbeat pounding, Stiles clicked on the text with shaky fingers and—

sourwolf: at least now your hair’s the perfect length to hold on to



(Source: blackbeaar)

bro bro brobrobro: captain-snark: Stiles and Derek getting together and it’s all flirty...


Stiles and Derek getting together and it’s all flirty and awkward and them acting like blushing teenagers and one day they’re hanging out, eating breakfast and Stiles suddenly asks “top or bottom?”

And Derek just says “bottom” a little rushed and confused and then sees that…