he looks chuffed x
The Sterek Haven October Graphics Challenge: favourite episode + text
3.11 Alpha Pact + (x)
Can we have a poll to decide Derek’s career? I vote deputy since it would suit his, um, character. This wonderful fic is mostly responsible for burning the image into my mind.
Any day now, I’m going to draw something unrelated to this fandom and it will be the first step in either my ruination or recovery.
so this is very late and also a human high school au WHOOPS
“I know you hate this,” Erica says, offering Derek a beer as she flops down onto the couch at his side. “But you’re abandoning me to go on your weird family vacation into the mountains of nowhere next week, and you promised you’d make up for missing my birthday.”
Derek sighs. “When I said that, I was thinking that I’d get you a nicer gift than usual. Or take you for pizza a couple times.”
“And you can still do both of those things,” she says diplomatically, “but mostly I wanted you to take me to a party.”
Glancing around the living room filled with familiar faces from the high school, Derek frowns. “But did it have to be this party?”
("Sorry you had to wait," Stiles had said, dropping his crosse into the umbrella stand by the front door. He’d stuck close to Derek’s back as they trudged up the stairs towards his bedroom, and a jolt had run up Derek’s arm when their hands brushed as they came to the second floor landing. "Coach usually ends practice early on Thursdays."
"It’s not a big deal," Derek had said. "It was interesting to watch."
"You looked like you were getting kinda into it."
"I’ll take any excuse to cheer for Jackson getting his ass kicked."
Stiles had hummed. “You know,” he had said, “I never see you at any of our victory parties.”
"Our?" Derek had said, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t you spend most of your time on the bench?"
"Oh-ho," Stiles had whistled and leaned over to give his shoulder a shove before collapsing back onto the bed, propped up on his elbows with his legs splayed wide. "He swings hard and strikes low! Those are big words coming from a part-time athlete, Mr. Center Point Power Forward. Whatever the hell they call you basketball douchebags."
Derek had snorted. “At least I play.”
Stiles had run his tongue over his teeth, eyes dragging from the worn tips of Derek’s sneakers up to his slowly reddening ears. “Alright, Hale, if that’s how it’s gonna be— You come to the rest of my games, and the next goal I score is all yours.”
He had smirked, and Derek had ached with wanting him.)
its my first pic since…don’t know 5 or now 6 months :( still not sure if I’ll start draw as often as I did before, although I hope I will. :)
ALSO I finally push myself and put this on SOCIETY6
I love how in some fics Stiles just goes away for years, without a word to anyone.
Like the sheriff wouldn’t burn down the world to find him.