Fact: Derek Hale hates Potions.
There are a number of reasons why this is so. For one thing, Potions is really not Derek’s strong point. (There’s a reason he’s banned from using the kitchen at home.) For another, the Potions classroom is dank and dim and spending more than an hour down there at a time makes Derek’s skin crawl.
And then there’s Stiles Stilinski.
He doesn’t need an explanation.
“My name is Deputy Hale. What’s the problem, sir?”
God. Damn. Of course, Stiles would call his dad about fucking diaper rash and end up talking to the hottest deputy on the force.
Also I know I’ve got some asks that I need to get answered—sorry guys! I’ll get on it ASAP.
“Honestly, I don’t see the problem here.” Kira says as Igloo crawls up onto her shoulder. She idly feeds him a small piece of parsley. “You’re into him, he’s pretty into you. You both bond over it through cat care tips. A hot guy plus cats? That’s a jackpot. There’s no downside here.”
"Yeah, everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t actually own any cats!" Stiles yells, bordering on manic.
The one where Stiles thinks that Derek only talks to him because he thinks Stiles owns a cat. The problem is that Stiles doesn’t own a cat at all. Instead, he has a judgmental iguana and a crush on the guy living on the 4th floor. Everything is terrible. Sort of.
Stiles frowned, “…do you want to hang up?”
This time, Stiles could hear the hitch in Derek’s breath, and it was enough to give him the courage to ask, “do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?”
“what are you doing?” Derek croaked lowly. There was the sound of a door closing on the other line, followed by the creak of bed springs.
“Fucking into my hand,” Stiles blurted with a groan, his body getting hot just thinking about Derek lying on his bed back in Beacon Hills and touching himself, “thinking of you.”
It’s like cold water being splashed on him. The sense of wrong and no comes back so strong it feels almost like a punch to the gut. But Stiles ignores it because he told Derek it would work and he told Derek that he would like it and he told Derek it would be okay; Derek’s okay, Derek’s on board, so he just has to get through it and he can. He knows he can.
"Look, I get that we were fucking around, and it was cool, and then I had to go ruin the fun by getting hurt. So uh, don’t feel like you owe me anything, or that you have to like, take care of me or whatever, because you’re not my boyfriend, and you don’t have to. I don’t expect anything from you, okay?"
In which Derek is a Failwolf and kind of an asshole, but Stiles likes him that way.
It’s porn. Well, it’s sort of porn. Gay sort of porn. Definitely Not Safe For Work. Isaac pushes Stiles out of the way to frantically exit out of the browser before their manager catches them looking at porn.
Stiles thinks he has college all figured out (despite his sourwolf of a roommate), until he gets scouted to be a model for the popular werewolf skinmag, CAPTIVE.
"He’s the sheriff’s kid," Erica had told him. "Kind of went off the rails after his mom died. I heard he’s like some kind of genius, but now all he does is hang out here and smoke weed." She’d sounded kind of saddened by it, before twisting her mouth, pulling her hair back into a loose bun. "He makes fucking art when he’s on a board, though.”