the stars are falling like rain

simplystiles asked: Nasti can you write me something to make me feel better? Or show me a pretty picture. Or a nice gif. Or a nice word. Or a nice face. Really anything nice. This week's been sucky.


I’m sorry, boo :( Hope this makes you feel at least a tiny bit better.


Scott comes skidding into the room, barely avoids slamming into the next wall with his phone clasped firmly in his hand. He has this look on his face that means he wants something, and that something is most likely something Stiles won’t like.

“Dude,” Scott starts, and comes to sit down next to him on the couch. “Buddy. Bro.”

“Do you think you have Syphilis again? ‘Cause if you need me to check you know you don’t have to butter me up for it,” Stiles says as he caps his highlighter. As far as boundaries go, they maybe only have a handful left that they both swore not to cross, and seeing each other naked isn’t one.

“Aww, that’s actually sweet of you,” Scott says, smiling brightly. He pats Stiles’ shoulder in gratitude, before his face gets all serious. “I need a favour.”

“Lay it on me.”

Scott squirms a little, eyes flitting down to his phone, and not coming up to meet Stiles’ again. It’s cute how Scott still seems to have reservations about asking Stiles for something, as if there’s anything Stiles wouldn’t do for him. Yet, Scott’s moral compass is far straighter than Stiles’, so Scott stalling means it’s something he’s not entirely comfortable asking for. On the other hand, he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, so Stiles doesn’t have any qualms about it.

“Do you need me to get rid of a body?” Stiles prompts, lifts both eyebrows when Scott starts spluttering indignantly.

“No of course not.” Scott takes a deep breath. “I need this weekend off, so I wondered if maybe you could just work your magic, and blow my boss again?”

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It starts off as little things, but even the littlest things capture Stiles’ attention because they’re such a turnaround from the way things were before. There’s Scott’s hand resting on Derek’s shoulder, fine, whatever. But then there’s that same hand moving to squeeze Derek’s nape, massaging the skin at the base of his hairline. There’s Scott casually leaning into Derek’s space when they’re going over a plan or just sitting on the couch next to each other, bumping their elbows together and neither of them moving away.

When he walks into the loft to find Scott standing behind a seated Derek, one arm draped over his chest and a chin resting on his shoulder, Stiles finally snaps.

“Ok, seriously. What is going on?”

Scott looks up, casual as anything, chin still propped on Derek’s shoulder, fingers splayed out across his chest, and has the gall to look confused by Stiles’ outburst.

“Um… we’re going over the plans to rebuild the Hale house?” They’d bought the property back from the town with Derek’s not-so-secret boatloads of cash. …Well, Derek had bought it back, but Scott had been suspiciously involved in the whole process. Or maybe not suspiciously, considering.

Considering how things are now.

Stiles tries to fight a grimace, tries not to stare too hard at the draped arm. It must work because Scott’s looking back down at the plans, totally oblivious.

“Derek’s insisting on including a dungeon—”

“Not a dungeon,” Derek cuts in, eyes rolling. He seems totally relaxed under Scott’s hands. Derek never looks relaxed, and the sight just adds to Stiles’ frustration. “An isolation area for new betas. Every pack needs one.”

“Yeah, I remember when Stiles tried to chain me up on my first moon. I didn’t exactly go quietly.”

Derek snorts, head shifting a little to the side, knocking his temple against Scott’s ear.

“Yeah, well if you’d just listened to me back then—”

“If we’d listened to each other,” Scott cuts in, using his diplomatic alpha tone to the fullest, “a lot of things would’ve gone more smoothly.”

He aims a grin up toward Stiles, but the expression falls away fast. Stiles realizes his hands have clenched into fists, tries to smooth the lines of tension in his body and fails miserably.

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Happy 23rd Birthday Tyler Garcia Posey!!!  [ October 18, 1991 ]

(Source: werecorpse, via hoechlder)

sometimes, i feel you looking for the devil in me so won’t you close your eyes, when i’m lying in your heart

sometimes, i feel you looking for the devil in me
so won’t you close your eyes, when i’m lying in your heart

(Source: mermaidblues, via matildajones)




I want this fic. Does it exist?! If it doesn’t, I wonder what
could do as a basis for Sterek….hmmm

Alright, I’ll take a shot at it. Don’t judge it too harshly. It’s been a long day.


"Stiles, it’s five-thirty in the morning. Could you please turn that down?” Scott asks, leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom and rubbing his eyes.

"Sh, it’s about to get to the good stuff," Stiles whispers, waving a hand at his best friend. "Go back to sleep, Scotty."

There’s a yawn and then a sigh. “It’s too late. I’m already awake. What’s he wearing this time?”

"I wish I could answer that with nothing, but I can’t. He’s wearing clothes and it’s such a shame,” Stiles murmurs. Scott joins him on the couch and they fall into silence.

"I’d wear your rain boots and bring your umbrellas with you today folks. It’s going to be a stormy day," the hot weatherman tells the world. Stiles can’t help but smile. God, he lives for this. Derek the weatherman goes on to explain the direction of the storm, he cracks a couple of too-early-for-those-wide-(and beautiful)-smiles, and then he passes the screen back to his news anchor.

Scott yawns again. “Stiles?”

"Yeah buddy?" Stiles asks, tearing his eyes away from the screen long enough to look at his best friend.

"Try to keep the volume down tomorrow morning. This is the second time this week, and he’s only ever on the screen for thirty seconds," Scott says.

"I’ll try. I’m sorry. I get so caught up in the excitement—"

"Every morning?" Scott asks.

Stiles gives him a sheepish look. “Dude, I can’t help it. He’s so hot and funny and cute and yesterday he told a joke while they were live and the anchor, Kate, was so pissed but it was really funny. Do you want to hear it?”

Scott shakes his head. He leans forward to clap a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Not yet. Let me make us some coffee and toast. You can tell me all about it after that, okay?”

Stiles beams. “Sounds good.”

He’s never been a morning person until he saw Derek Hale, the hot weatherman. He made some adjustments after that. It’d actually turned out for the best, because he got some quality studying time in while the rest of the apartment he shared with Scott, Isaac, and Jackson was quiet.

Scott is the only one who knows about his insane crush on Derek. Obviously. He’s not stupid enough to tell Jackson that he has a superficial crush on the weatherman. That sounds ridiculous, and Jackson would tease him endlessly about it.

"Stiles?" Scott prompts after a moment.


"I asked if you’re excited for our party tonight," Scott says while he puts some bread into the toaster.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, sure, I guess. It’s a weird concept to me that Jackson has other friends.”

Scott laughs and shrugs. “I’m sure most of them are actually Danny’s friends who just tolerate Jackson.”

Stiles snort and agrees. “Yeah, that makes way more sense. We should have Jackson’s expensive peanut butter for our toast this morning.”

"And have him throw another temper tantrum when he wakes up? No thanks. Besides, Isaac wants us to calm down on provoking Jackson. Apparently it’s been getting in the way of his studying and well…"

"You like Isaac and don’t want him to be sad. I get it. I’ll try my best dude, but no promises." Stiles flips open his textbook. You know, if his dad knew that the hot weatherman was making Stiles a better student, Stiles is sure that his dad would arrest Derek Hale just to thank him and invite him over for dinner.


"Our apartment is packed!" Scott shouts later that evening. Stiles bobs his head in agreement, before he points at Isaac. Without words, Scott knows exactly what Stiles is thinking. Scott turns to look and then he’s shaking his head at Stiles. "No way dude, I’m not interrupting that."

"Isaac’s talking to Allison, Scott. You guys just broke up and you like him. If you don’t swoop now, Isaac might get lost in Allison-land. You might lose your chance, dude. Go for it!” Stiles says, loudly so Scott can hear his pep talk over the damn music.

Scott looks at the two of them like a lost puppy. “You think?”

"I know,” Stiles says, urging Scott to go with a wave of his hand. He grins when Scott heads over to them.

Someone bumps his arm and then says, “That was great advice you gave your friend there.”

Stiles turns, proud of himself and ready to bask in the compliment, when he finds himself standing face-to-face with hot weatherman Derek Hale. You know, the guy he gets up at five a.m. to see every morning and then he hangs around his television for most of the morning to see whenever he comes back on the screen. Yeah, that guy? He’s standing right there and he spoke to Stiles.

"I—thanks," Stiles says, feeling his face flush. God, he hates how loud it is in here. He puts out his hand, rather awkwardly, and shakes Derek’s. "Stiles. Stiles Stilinski."

"Derek Hale," he says as though Stiles has no clue.

"Nice to meet you," Stiles says. Derek’s expression tells him he didn’t quite hear him but he’s smiling anyway. "Who do you know here?"

Derek’s eyebrows come together and then he realizes what Stiles asks. He moves in a bit closer. “I’m friends with Jackson. Well, actually, Isaac really. But we were all on the same lacrosse team together last semester.”

Stiles has a hard time keeping his mouth shut. This is one of those times…except nothing’s coming out. Derek and Stiles could’ve met way before tonight if his friends had told him anything about their lives. Granted, Stiles usually never cared about their lacrosse games. He’d gotten enough of the lacrosse bench in high school. But they played with Derek Hale? That’s just cruel to leave Stiles in the dark like that.

"Who do you know?" Derek asks, loudly.

Someone turns the music down - Stiles does a quick glance around to see Boyd shyly walking away. Boyd’s the best, seriously. Stiles smiles at Derek now. “I live here with Isaac and Jackson, actually.”

"Wait, you’re—not Scott, right?"

"No, that’s Scott," Stiles points him out.

"Oh good, that’s what I thought. Isaac has had the biggest thing for him for a while now. Not that he’ll ever admit it. But it’s always Scott this, Scott that.” Derek takes a sip from his red cup and then lets himself glance around the party.

Wow, this is so weird.

"So you’re that weatherman, huh?" Stiles blurts because his brain can’t function like a normal person. Not that he’s ever really complained about it. Until now. His brain could shut up.

Derek nods. “The one and only. Well, unless Kate gets me fired.”

"That bitch," Stiles breathes, but loud enough for Derek to hear and laugh. "She’s so obnoxious. I mute her whenever she comes on."

"You…you watch the news, huh?" Derek asks, looking highly amused. Maybe even a little smug.

"Yep. Gotta keep up on current news and…weather," Stiles stumbles to say.

Derek lets out a laugh again and then says,”You just said you mute Kate, so…”

"You make the weather interesting," Stiles admits and then he rolls his eyes. "Whatever, shut up."

"Derek!" a blonde girl comes rushing up. Stiles recognizes her as Erica, Boyd’s girlfriend. She wraps her arms around him and kisses Derek’s cheek. "I didn’t see you. When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," Derek tells her. He glances at Stiles, which makes him want to stay. But he can’t. There’s no way that Derek wants him to hang around. He rubs his neck before he casually turns away as Derek’s voice about seeing Boyd fades.

He pushes his bedroom door open and shuts it by leaning against it.  Stiles closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. What is his life? “Ugh.”

"I know. This party is terrible,” Lydia’s voice comes from his bed.

His eyes pop open. “Lydia, what are you doing in my bedroom? Your boyfriend’s room is just down the hall.”

"Exactly. He’s too arrogant to think that I’d ever come into your room for solitude.” Lydia pats the bed beside her. “Why are you upset?”

Stiles plops down beside her and then frowns. “Derek Hale is at my party. Or the party. It’s not really mine if all of my friends came for other people from this apartment, I guess.”

"And?" Lydia prompts.

And he’s super gorgeous and was just talking to me.” Stiles groans and covers his face with his hands. “I have no idea if it was going well or not, but then Boyd’s girlfriend came up and totally distracted him. He’s so much prettier in person. Fuck. I want to cry he’s so hot.”

Lydia pats his arm gently and simply says, “Stiles, I love you.”


But, you’re never going to get a guy - or girl, for that matter - wallowing in undeserved self-pity. Stop hiding and go out there and get the guy.” Lydia huffs a little when Stiles shakes his head. “No, Stilinski. I mean it. You get your ass off this bed, you go out there and make a complete fool out of yourself, and if he’s not interested in you, then you can come back in here and wallow in deserved self-pity.”

"You want me to make a complete fool of myself?" Stiles asks, peeking at her through his fingers.

"Yes. Because if he doesn’t stay with you at your worst, he doesn’t deserve you. Now, go.”

Stiles gets up, because when Lydia tells you to do something you fucking do it. But he pauses to glance back at her. “Has Jackson seen you at your worst?”

Lydia meets his eyes. “Jackson met me at my worst and loved me anyway. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, Stiles, but he’s one of the best guys I know. Underneath all of his crap, he cares.”

"I hope so. He still doesn’t deserve you," Stiles tells her. "He makes you happy though?"

"Most days," Lydia replies. "And on the days he doesn’t, we work at it. It’s not always going to be rainbows and butterflies, but the best things aren’t always easy."

Stiles only nods and studies her for a moment longer before he leaves his bedroom. He scans the party and finds Derek standing in the corner talking to Boyd. Well, at least they’re standing together. Stiles doesn’t see much talking going on.

He makes his way over, and passes by Jackson. He pauses only to say, “Your girlfriend’s in my bedroom. You might want to make her happy.”

"What did you do?” Jackson growls.

"She gave me a pep talk, dude." Stiles nods towards Derek. "To talk to your hot friend."

Jackson eyes him down before he accepts the answer and turns to find Lydia. Stiles walks up to Derek and Boyd and gives them a pathetic wave.


"Hey," Derek says, with a quick smile. "You’re back."

"Miss me?" Stiles teases, before he can think about it.

"Of course. I thought to myself, I can’t live without this guy I just met three minutes ago. It was terribly hard.”

Stiles grins, teasingly pushing Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t be mean.”

"Hey, you’re the one who left me mid-conversation. What do you have to say for yourself?" Derek asks, eyes dancing with amusement.

"I needed another drink," Stiles answers. They both know it’s not true, but Derek doesn’t call him out on not having a drink in his hand. Stiles glances at Boyd. "Hey Boyd. How are you?"

"Invisible," Boyd mutters, but it’s said without anger. He nods once before he says, "Boys." Then he’s walking away.


"Don’t worry. Boyd’s like that. He’s not big on socializing anyway," Derek assures him.

"I know. But still." Stiles shrugs and moves closer to Derek, taking the place where Boyd had stood. "I thought you and Erica would like to catch up."

"You know her?" Derek asks.

"Vaguely. I know Boyd better. I know Erica as the hot blonde who makes out with Boyd at any opportunity," Stiles jokes.

Derek laughs.”So you know Erica then.”

"How have we had so many mutual friends and never met before?" Stiles asks, searching Derek’s face.

"No clue, but it’s a damn shame."

Stiles doesn’t bother fighting the smile.


Stiles, I have an exam at nine!” Scott complains, as he comes out Isaac’s bedroom a few weeks later. Fuck, it’s been an amazing few weeks.

Stiles snorts. “Good, then you can get in some extra studying time. Now shut up. Derek’s about to come on.”

"I—" Scott gives up apparently. He grabs his backpack from the hallway and joins Stiles on the couch."When are you going to ask Derek out?"

"Um, never. We’re just friends, dude."

"I don’t—"

"Shut up. He’s on!"

Derek’s smiling at the camera. God, it’s too early to be that cheerful. Stiles has no idea that he’s wearing the same smile.

"Before I tell you the weather, I would like to say good morning to a very special person. He claims not to be a big fan of mine, but I have it from good authority that he gets up every morning to watch the weather. So Stiles, if you’re watching this - I hope you have a great morning. Call me later. I think we should go on a date.

"Wha—wh—holy fuck,” Stiles breathes. “He said my name.”

"Can he do that?" Scott asks, looking at Stiles as though he has two heads.

"I don’t know. But he just did it. He…dude. I have a date. With Derek Hale, the weatherman.”

"The hot weatherman,” Isaac’s voice comes from behind them. They both turn to look at him. Isaac’s only paying attention to Scott though. “I woke up and you were…gone.”

Scott blushes. “Sorry dude. Stiles woke me up with the TV. It wasn’t my intention to leave you.”

"That’s okay," Isaac says, looking relieved that Scott hadn’t left on purpose. He sits down in the chair closest to Scott’s end of the couch. "So, Stilinski, what are you going to do?"

"What should I do?" Stiles asks, glancing back at the screen. Kate’s face is moving, but he can’t hear anything. Seriously, he has no idea how she keeps her job. Her voice is beyond annoying.

"I think you should call him and accept the date," Scott says.

"Me too."

"But…I don’t have his number," Stiles admits. "We’ve been Facebooking, but I don’t want to accept over Facebook."

"I have it," Isaac says. He hops up. "I’ll grab my phone and be right back."

"Thanks dude!" Stiles calls out.He turns to Scott, "Did we tape that?"

"I don’t know, but I’m sure it’ll be on the internet. Doesn’t the station usual put up the morning’s news on the website around eleven?" Scott asks.

"Right, yeah."

"Here," Isaac says. He hands Stiles his phone.

"Thanks man. I should…hang on."

Stiles rushes into his bedroom and shuts the door. He dials Derek’s number and waits.

God these rings are insanely long.


"Hey, Derek, it’s uh, it’s Stiles."

"So you were watching"

"Yeah, I was watching."


"Yes." Stiles belly flops onto his bed. "What idiot says no to the hot weatherman and a date?"

"You’d be surprised. I remember you talked about a restaurant called Fran’s. Would that be a suitable place for a first date?” Derek asks.

"I’d go anywhere with you," Stiles answers.

Derek laughs. "That’s a bit serious for a first date. Maybe save those lines for our second."

"I like the sounds of that. Are you going to get in trouble for asking me on camera?" Stiles asks, concerned.

"Nawh, I cleared it with my boss." Derek pauses before he adds, "I should go but I hope you have a great morning, Stiles. I’ll call you later and we can sort out the details of our date?"

"That’d be great," Stiles says, hoping he sounds casual. "Have a great morning yourself, hot stuff."

There’s a laugh and then a click. He rushes out of his bedroom.

"It’s official! I have a date!" Stiles shouts. "I have a date!"

Scott and Isaac cheer.

Ten seconds later does Jackson’s bedroom door swing open. Jackson has a sheet wrapped around his waist. “What is all the noise about? Do you idiots have any idea what time it is?”

"I have a date!" Stiles blurts before he realizes that’s probably a mistake.

"With who? Your hand?" Jackson sneers.

"No, with Derek Hale, the hot weatherman.”

Jackson studies Stiles for a second and then nods. “Derek’s a good guy. Not bad, Stilinski.”

Stiles has no idea how to prcoess that, so he simply asks, “Feel like breakfast?”

"Sure." Jackson turns to look back into his room. "Lyd, do you want breakfast?"


That’s how Stiles, Scott, Isaac, Jackson, and Lydia end up in the kitchen making breakfast together at six o’clock in the morning. Jackson asks what Stiles and Derek plan to do on their date and Lydia gives him a knowing look. No one said that Stiles thought he had it all figured out.

"Think he’ll pay?" Isaac asks, sounding a little worried.

"I think it’s custom if you ask for the date, you pay," Scott chimes in. Isaac looks relieved.

"Sometimes it’s nice to spoil someone though," Jackson tells them.

Lydia smiles at him, and suddenly, Stiles sees it. He sees the way they look at each other, as though the only light comes from that person, and wonders—hopes, rather—if he and Derek might ever look at each other the same way one day.

"You know, Derek made a complete fool out of himself on TV this morning," Lydia points out. "That could’ve backed fired on him."

"But it didn’t," Stiles counters.

"No, it didn’t." Lydia winks as Stiles’ phone buzzes.

DEREK: important update from your very own beacon hills weatherman
DEREK: on your date, it will become about 114% hotter than usual
DEREK: please be aware of this sudden heat wave and be advised to take precautions in order to ensure safety of your body
DEREK: these precautions include lube and condoms, if you choose to take clothes off as your cooling down method

Stiles bursts into laughter at the table, and then shakes his head when the others ask him what happened. He meets Lydia’s eyes and murmurs, “This one’s a keeper.”


I’m tired, so I apologize if there any mistakes. And also, sorry for highjacking this post.

argentswolfsbane silverdancer ymalcal tombydand cggardner worststalkerever bcnhills bealen myhorizonofslytherin221b aylakazam dartagnansword sexxlinski burnoutthenight screwitanddoitanyway booksaremylover theheartofmaria

I’m just tagging y’all because I think you guys have been liking/reblogging my little ficlets the most (I think. I’m tired, I don’t know) so yeah. Here’s more Sterek, aha. Sorry if I missed anyone, and sorry if some of you didn’t want to be tagged. <3

(Source: mysnarkyself)

Anonymous asked: can you recommend any good connor/oliver fics??


  • Wear Your Skin Like Iron by dewinter (T, 2k) ”Don’t be a bitch. I could get arrested for this.” In the end, that’s exactly what happens.
  • honey and lemon by milominderbinder (Not Rated, 1k) Connor’s not sick, okay? Just because he has a temperature and a blocked nose and a sore throat and everyone keeps telling him he’s sick - that doesn’t mean he is. And he certainly doesn’t need looking after.
  • Tell Them This Love Hasn’t Changed Me by conwalshs [part one][part twoConnor’s first dream about his soulmate didn’t feel at all conventional, though there wasn’t much logic to be found in a theory that suggested soulmates existed, anyway. At least in Connor’s eyes, there wasn’t. 
  • Six Little Words by LuminescentLily (G, 1k) Connor tried to tell himself that it didn’t hurt, but that was a lie. The truth was, those six little words cut him deeper than any murder weapon he’d seen in their cases with Professor Keating. ”We went to boarding school together.”
  • Potentially Imaginary Pizza by notthecosmos (Not Rated, 1k) Oliver dropped his head into his hands. Not again. He had absolutely no energy left to waste on selfish assholes tonight. He begrudgingly marched to his door and whipped it open to expressively tell this selfish asshole exactly how he felt, at least that’s what he wanted to do. But one look at Connor had him messing up his words into something far less angry. And really, fuck him, because no, no one can possibly look like that all the time. It’s just not fair. 
  • Honey Trap by matchsticks (T, 2k) For all his talk about not being a doormat, it was in Oliver’s nature to be pliant. Amenable. Helpful. All Connor had to do was mention that the information they needed could possibly exonerate an innocent person, and Oliver was all for the plan. His only concern was that he didn’t know how to seduce anyone. Connor reassured him that he only needed to be himself. (Written to fulfill this prompt from someone who wishes to remain anonymous: “Connor uses Oliver to seduce someone for him, and then regrets it when the mark gets a little rough with his not-boyfriend.”)
  • It’s Called Dating by grimcognito (M, 8k) In an AU where things don’t go to hell with actual murder, and they all get happy lives, here are some drabbles and timestamps of Connor and the cute IT guy, Oliver.
  • Hot Showers And Forgiveness (With A Side of Murder) by samlikesbuttsex (M, 1k) It’s six in the morning and the last person he expected to see was standing on the other side of the door.
  • untitled by buckysawsteve (Not Rated)   Connor had always been confident, suave, cocky. But with Oliver, he was quickly finding it difficult to be any of those things. It was a façade, really and one that Oliver was definitely seeing through and as a result, was stripping him bear of his defenses.
  • Amateur Hour by grimcognito (T, 1k) After the events in episode 04, Connor goes to Oliver in a panicked desperation. He’s not expecting Oliver’s reaction.

wesglbbins asked: sterek + 12 :)


"You know, we are literally playing out the roles of teenagers at the start of a Friday the Thirteenth movie,” Stiles complains, swats another gnat. “What was the appeal of coming out here again?”

"Nature," Derek grunts, drops another log on the camp fire before dropping down beside him. "And, to behave like teenagers," he smirks, leans in to kiss Stiles’ shoulder. He slips a hand under Stiles’ shirt at the same time, and Stiles hisses at his slightly chilly touch, jerks away.

"And, now you’re literally acting out the role of the douchebag jock that can’t even be bothered to hire a motel room to take his blushing virgin—” he shakes himself, “I am not the virgin in your horror movie, Derek Hale!”

"Well, you’re certainly no virgin," Derek huffs, "But, maybe if you keep yelling loud enough Jason Voorhees will stalk out of the trees and punish you for being promiscuous and noisy."

"You like me being both those things," Stiles snarks back, shoving a stick into the fire crossly. 

Derek sighs, moves to sit away from him, and Stiles immediately feels all the colder for it. “Do you just want to go home?”

"I didn’t say that!"

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Sterek AU: Stiles Stilinski, cello prodigy and Derek Hale, world class pianist disagree on the emotional range of classical music. 

“You’re wrong. You’re so wrong.”

Stiles waves his bow at him, like he’s wagging a finger at a child, mouth spread wide in a teasing grin and it makes Derek want to strangle him. Or maybe, possibly kiss him.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Definitely strangle.

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