aurevell

[aurevell]

Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - Round 1 Side 1

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

#every time i see this poll a different side is winning

[aurevell]

#100DaysofTeenWolf Day 46: Favorite pack   

[aurevell]

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by the amazing @outtoshatter <3 <3

Have a snip from my sterek collabang fic, Nicotine & Low-Life Dreams. AKA, what I affectionately call my mafia AU.

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When his start date at The Cherry Pit swings around, Stiles isn't sure he's ready. He's worked as a waiter before, but never at a strip club before. It's not like there's menus or anything. Right? Dread gnaws at him. He didn't sign any paperwork, no one told him how much he'd be making. He's walking in completely blind.

Well, not completely. The Hales won't hurt him, not unless he gives them a reason to. They're reasonable, even Peter.

It's this certainty that motivates him to get out of his rundown Jeep and enter the club for the second time. This time, when he approaches the bar, Derek is waiting for him with a manila folder and a glass of amber liquid.

"Hi," Stiles says, feeling underdressed. He's wearing jeans, his ratty Converse, and a band hoodie. Derek, of course, is wearing a black suit and tie. "I didn't - Um, what's this?"

"Paperwork," Derek says, handing Stiles the folder. "Your tax forms, your application, compensation. The usual."

Stiles flips through it. "Do I need to sign anything, or...?"

Derek gestures at an empty barstool. Stiles hops up, putting his feet on the rung. Derek pulls a pen out of his suit jacket and offers it to him. Stiles reaches for it, but can't help but flick his eyes down to where Derek's holster is showing. Their fingers brush, and Stiles yanks his hand back.

"Thanks," he squeaks out. "I'll just, uh, get started."

"Take your time," Derek says. He takes a sip of his whiskey, and Stiles does his best to concentrate on reviewing the documents in the folder.

Derek hadn't lied: it's all is standard issue employment shit. Stiles is pleasantly surprised to find he has dental. He's never had dental before. The application with pretty much everything already filled out for him is a little creepy, but it's not exactly surprising. Of course the Hales know where he lives.

When he sees the pay rate, Stiles frowns. "This is minimum wage," he says, tapping on the rate. "I told Peter -"

"Have you ever worked at a club before?" When Stiles shakes his head, Derek asks, "Have you ever been a bartender before?"

"Not, like, professionally -"

"So no," Derek says calmly. "How can I justify paying you 'well above' minimum wage if you have no prior experience?"

Stiles grits his teeth. "This isn't fair. I told you guys that I needed more than the minimum."

Derek sets his glass down. "You're working here two days a week. I've arranged for you to have health insurance, dental, vision. That feels pretty fucking fair to me."

Fuck. It is fair. Stiles is currently uninsured and that's fine for now, but with his luck a random car accident will take his ass out. Or he'll get shot, since that seems to run in the family. He runs a hand through his hair. Derek watches him calmly. He's backed into a corner, and Derek knows it.

"If I do a good job then..." he trails off, humiliated at having to beg a gangster for a future pay raise.

"Relax," Derek says, laughing a little. "It's for appearances. We get audited for possible money laundering every fucking year. The longer you're here, the bigger that number" - he taps the pathetically low rate - "will get."

"Fine," Stiles mutters. He signs the papers and slides them over to Derek. Maybe he should have gotten a job at the grocery store. It'd probably be better for him, long-term.

"Are you done bitching?" Derek takes another swallow of whiskey and sets the glass down. "I have shit to do."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah, I bet."

Derek taps his claws against the bar top. An admonishment.

"Sorry," Stiles says, ducking his head. He really needs to get his mouth under control. Sassing mobsters isn't good for his health, surely.

"All a part of your charm," Derek says. Stiles blinks because what the fuck, but Derek doesn't elaborate. "I'll be out for most of the night. Wait here, Boyd will be in soon."

-

low pressure tags!!! @violetfairydust @whimsicalmeerkat @lucky-bishop @endwersed @hedwig221b

@aurevell @theragnarokd @raisesomehale

#mafia au!!!!! ahhhh i want to read this so bad #what is stiles getting himself into this time #👀👀👀

[aurevell]

[aurevell]

Natasha Richardson as Elizabeth James in The Parent Trap (1998)

[aurevell]

Sterek - Season 1

#sterek #art

[aurevell]

be pro-aging but wear sun screen. sun protection is not beauty industry propaganda it will save you. wear it. or else.

[aurevell]

I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be, Right in front of me, Talk some sense to me. (x)

[aurevell]

Thinking about how Derek is so hard to contact all the time, but when they were like “Stiles is missing” he immediately showed up.

Thinking about how Scott and Isaac, who see Stiles almost every day, had to go back to his room for a stronger scent. But Derek didn’t.

Thinking about how Derek got to the roof of the hospital first and was like “Stiles was here. He was anxious. He was fighting with himself”.

Thinking about how Derek was the one giving the Jeep a jump start because he knows how important the Jeep is to Stiles.

Thinking about how when he was told “I think Stiles is the one possessed” he immediately dismissed it, but figured out what happened and went straight to Scott instead of telling anyone else. And instead of trying to kill him.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

[aurevell]

no matter the struggles there is always ao3 in bed

[aurevell]

[aurevell]

Thanks to @teenwerewoofs for inspiring the fic idea! The only downside is that my turnaround time for writing is apparently 1.5 years <3

The Long Game Steter | 17k | T

“Okay, Peter, it’s you and me, bud,” he jokes. “Fine,” Peter replies at once. “Huh. That was…fast. You got no objections to walking me down the aisle, creeperwolf?” “Why not?” Peter gives a lazy shrug, like he really could not care less about this stupid joke. He lays his head back down and closes his eyes. Right back to feigning his little nap. “See you in eight years.” Mostly as a joke, Stiles arranges a marriage pact with Peter. The only thing is, he can’t stop thinking about it after.

Read on AO3

#steter #steter fic #mine #this is a fic where i expect people who've read anything i've ever written to be nodding along the whole time #like once you get past the intro it'll become 'ah yes i'm seeing all some familiar tropes and themes lmao' #like...'we're just friends i swear!' #stiles being oblivious af #also i can't believe i've only written one other fic with mild to moderate relationship sabotage #i just love this kind of premise sm and i'll write it forever

[aurevell]

#uhhh i guess?? #people are mad about the age gap again aren't they #what is it with 'dereck' and 'styles' lately

[aurevell]

[aurevell]

[aurevell]

Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - Round 1 Side 1

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

#you know what #what the hell #vote for sterek!!

[aurevell]

Homecoming

Sterek, 931 words, fluff

Summary:

Derek is back in Beacon Hills and his first stop is at Stiles' house. Stiles is simultaneously unprepared and also very prepared.

Snippet:

There was a knock at the front door, but Stiles was scrubbing a stubborn pan and wasn't ready to give up on it yet. He sighed, looked over his shoulder and spoke at a normal volume, “Hey, if you’re one of my werewolves, you can just come around back. If you’re some other supernatural threat, please have the decency to come back later, say, around 6pm? And if you’re a regular human, you can’t hear me anyway, so it doesn’t really matter but if I ignore you, you’ll go away. Unless it’s important and then–”

Stiles stopped talking abruptly when the kitchen door opened and Derek stepped in. 

“Derek,” Stiles put the pan down and stared, open mouthed. “You’re here. In my kitchen.” He reached out and shut the water off. “How are you here? Why? When…?”

“I just got back to town.”

Stiles stared for another minute before looking down at himself. He was wearing old pajama pants and his lacrosse shirt from high school, which was worn thin and had several holes in it. He also, more embarrassingly, was wearing a floral apron and yellow rubber gloves that went halfway to his elbow. “Uh…”

Derek leaned against the wall and folded his arms, a faint grin on his face. “I guess I should’ve texted first?”

Read the rest on ao3

#sterek #👀👀👀