Jeemaro to settle all your feels.
“Hey Stiles, can we drive down to-” Jeep stopped mid-sentence, almost stumbling on the steps as they walked out of the house. Parked on the other side of the road was a black Toyota. Sleek and brand new. Derek was leaning up against it, hands in his pockets, eyes settled on Stiles’ body that was walking a few steps behind Jeep.
“Is that… Does Derek have a new car?”
“Huh?” Stiles looked up from his cellphone, he was probably texting Lydia or Scott about something, Jeep wasn’t paying much attention because that was a brand new car Derek was leaning against. The tires… wow… those were… they barely had any wear and tear. And the windshield was so clean and sparkly.
“Yeah I guess he does. Weird.”
“Yeah it’s definitely… weird.” Jeep tilted his head as he gazed at the Toyota.
“Hey Derek where’s the-“
Stiles’ sentence was lost as Jeep was thrown up against the side of his house. Stiles’ brow arched as he watched Camaro push into Jeep’s personal space as the blue haired human car shrunk against the wall with Camaro’s hands on either side of him, keeping him in place.
R.I.P. [Jeemaro Drabble]
Torah wanted me to Jeemaro. Be careful what you wish for Torah… *evil grin*
Blue hair reflected back at him in the glass that his bandaged hands were pressed against, the curtain shielded his eyes from what was on the other side but he couldn’t tear himself away.
It was cold… everything was cold. He had been frozen there for hours since Derek called. He and Stiles had rushed there as quickly as they could manage, taking every shortcut they could find.
There had been an accident and now all they could do was wait.
UGH ARRA ILU THANK YOU.
Torah wanted me to draw her something for reasons unknown, so I doodled fox!Stiles and wolf!Derek on my whiteboard. I know it’s terrible and Derek looks like a bear, I tried to tell Torah how absolutely horrendous my inability to art is but she wouldn’t listen. Here you go, you freak <3
AHH LOOK AT LITTLE FOX STILES AND GRUMPY WOLF DEREK. wat r u talkin about this is adorable. THANK YOU ARRA!
Stiles was never going to open his mouth again. “Do the research yourself for once Derek! I’m not your personal walking talking Google!”
Now he regretted saying that because for the past week… that’s exactly what Derek had been doing. His own research, without once consulting Stiles. It had gotten to the point where Stiles putting post-it notes with giant black x’s on certain books to aid their alpha in his search for monster of the week because he refused to speak to Stiles and he knew how hopeless the pack was without his skills. He even printed off his own research and snuck it into Scott’s bookbag, knowing the beta would find it, play it off as his own research to Derek despite the fact that Stiles’ scent was all over it.
All he wanted was to be included again. He missed being the go-to guy for problem and most of all, he longed to have Derek lingering in the shadows of his room when he came home - and that was concerning.
ugh this is mY FAVORITE POST ON TUMBLR OKAY.
“Better?”
damnit Torah you need to stop drawing couches (part 1, 2, 3, 4)
Stiles was in the middle of a Fast and the Furious marathon - because when did they get to six? He hadn’t even been aware of their conception until he saw the over-the-top trailer - when Derek had shown up.
They said the customer hello, Derek leaned down to kiss Stiles chastely on the lips, eyes flickering over to the television before he snagged a book from the shelf. Stiles takes a moment to laugh at how domestic they’ve become but it’s interrupted when Derek settles himself on the floor in front of the couch rather than forcing Stiles out of his stretched claim over the couch to join him.
Stiles was surprised, and a little perturbed, that Derek was still taking the couch ban seriously. It had been two weeks since they’d cuddled outside of bed because of this stupid couch ban and it was frustrating. As much as they annoyed each other, as much as Derek’s body (wolf or human) was heavy and hot, as much as this was a tiny ass couch and at least three of Stiles limbs always fell asleep… this revenge scheme really blew up in his face because now it was Stiles that was suffering from Derek’s lack of couch privileges.
Oh my god i’ll never stop drawing couches if it means i get Arra fic. X3
● ヮ ●
*rolls up sleeves* Time for Part 4 of the Couch Sega. (one, two, three)
Stiles hand reached automatically into the bowl of popcorn seated on the cushion next to him. His eyes remained fixed on the words of the text before him as he brought the snack up to his face, munching loudly on the buttery treat. His eyes raced across the page, absorbing everything he could for his History text tomorrow. It was hard to keep up with the syllabus between pack meetings and nearly being killed, flayed, or kidnapped every weekend - the intent of those kidnapping him remained questionable.
As he reached over to the bowl once again, he heard a faint whine behind him, that of a dog rather than a person.
“No, you know you’re banned from the couch,” Stiles called over the back of the couch, not looking up from the pages, “and for good reason too. I never get any work done when we’re both on a couch. It’s like a curse. A gypsy curse… you haven’t pissed any vagrants off have you, Der?”
The wolf growled lowly from behind the sofa where Stiles had banished him to. He was loyal though, hadn’t moved from the spot to where Stiles could see him, not once. And this was the first time he’d made any noise. He was proud of the patience he was exhibiting for once.
“You’re stuck there for another five pages. Almost done.”
IT HAD BABIES.
“Stiles, it’s just a spider.” Derek sighed, brow rising as he stared down over his boyfriend’s shoulder at the small arachnid on the floor.
“No! It’s not A spider. It’s several! It reproduced and they’re crawling everywhere! You have the worst bug problem! I hate your house!”
Derek rolled his eyes, turning away and frowning as he heard a crunch beneath his foot.
Stiles gasped, eyes growing wide as he swung around on his heel. “What have you done?”
The alpha lifted his foot, revealing a small, baby spider to be flat and dead.
“Isaac Jr. No!” Stiles cried, dropping to his knees with his hands spread dramatically toward the spider he could not save.
Derek furrowed his brows, “Stiles you just said-“
“Sleep well young spider-prince, sleep well.”
“Why is it named after Isaac?”
OMFG ARRA
“Sti-“
“No! Nope! Don’t even say a word! And i don’t care if you’re The Alpha or whatever! I’m getting out of here with at least half of my dignity!”*Waits for whatever story arra will come up with*
#LAUGHS CAUSE THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY WAIT FOR ARRA TO FIC
*FLAILING AND SCREAMING* Your wait was worth it, and also very endearing <3 BTW… this fic is NSFW because Torah needs more for her NSFW tag xD
Yup. It was official. Stiles hated his life.
Mainly because every time he went out running with wolves he ended up in an awkward - no, awkward isn’t quite strong enough - painfully compromising situation with Derek. Once they’d been shoved into a closet together. Yes the innuendo of that was perfect in every way wasn’t it?
Now. Now they were in a box. More specifically a crate that Derek had hauled him into but it was in box form all the same. They’d been stalking an incubus near the area and followed it into an abandoned warehouse. That happened to be filled with rather deceptively large crates - that were inconveniently small once you were inside them. Stiles knew that. Because he was inside one with Derek two centimetres from his face.
And that is where Stiles had been. For the past twenty minutes.
It’s really rainy where i am right now.
“Why are we out here?”
“Come on, you roll around in the muddy grass before you crawl in my window-“
“‘It’s cold and wet.”
“-every single time-“
“You’re going to catch a cold.”
“-it’s like you have your own personal-“
“I’m not making you chicken noodle-“
“-mud puddle.”
“-soup.”
Stiles and Derek stared at each other as the rain continued to fall around them, filling their disjointed conversation with background static. The water puddling at Stiles’ feet was joyfully kicked up as Derek sullenly stared at his boyfriend from underneath his umbrella.
“Just… get under the umbrella at least.” Derek sighed, hoping that for once Stiles would be a reasonable and sensible person. Chances were slim.
Stiles grinned as he jumped backwards, distancing himself from his alpha and letting the water splash around his rubber boots. “Make me.”
Derek furrowed his brows. Now the chances of that… he could deal with.
