Seasons according to the North
IT IS THAT DAY IN MARCH TODAY
welcome to that day in march
IT IS THAT DAY TODAY
reading published m/m fiction, and trying to figure out, ‘okay, that’s draco, i’m pretty sure that’s harry, but who’s this other guy supposed to be?’
So, Malia left Eichen House with the sword. Was that a different sword than the one Kira’s mom had? Or did Malia actually go find Scott?
Derek considers himself a pretty stoic person. He’s rolled with the punches that life’s given him, and has only tried to curl up and die a few times, which, considering everything, is pretty damn impressive, if you ask him.
But there’s a special place in hell for trickster spirits, and Derek is going to do his best to ensure that the trickster spirit gets set there as soon as fucking possible.
Because no one can be expected to just deal with the fact they’ve suddenly got telepathy.
"Erm," Scott says, "How strong is it, exactly?"
Derek glares. “Strong.” He’s trying to respect personal boundaries here, but he has no idea how to stop the constant influx of thoughts. “How do any of you ever defeat evil in between all the sex fantasies you’re constantly having?”
Scott briefly covers his face with his hand, Kira turns pink, Allison grits her jaw, Isaac smirks a little, and Lydia cocks her head to the side. “Wait, do you hear thoughts or see them? This is a pretty unique opportunity to compare thought patterns…”
Derek shuts his eyes and breathes in deeply. It doesn’t help; the constant barrage of thoughts just intensifies when he’s not distracted by sight. “Can we just find the creature and…”
"What, punch it til it cries uncle and gives you your sanity back?" Isaac interrupts. "I don’t think your usual methods are going to work this time."
Derek would be offended, but mostly he’s trying his best to ignore the ode to Allison’s short skirts that Isaac seems to be composing in his head.
"I’m willing to entertain any plan that means I don’t have to hear anyone else’s thoughts," Derek says. "So ideas. On the table. Now."
It was admittedly a poor choice of words, though he will give them all credit for including the table in their gutter-thoughts. Derek is really going to have to find acquaintances that aren’t horny teenagers, because this is mortifying on several levels.
Apparently none of them are currently getting laid, and yeah. The hormones are working overtime.
Derek sympathizes, he really does, but mostly what he wants is to not have front-row tickets to five different fantasy sequences. None of which, he might add, involve him in any way, though Scott is surprisingly popular.
Not that he’s cranky about not starring in people’s fantasies. That would be immature and also ridiculous, and Derek isn’t one to get upset about being left out.
"You know you just pink-elephanted sex, right?" Lydia stage whispers to him when no one provides any viable suggestions for intimidating or cajoling trickster spirits.
"Really? I hadn’t noticed," Derek says grumpily.
The entirety of Sterek interaction this season thus far.
Nah, this doesn’t even count. Stiles isn’t even in the room. It’s like something is wearing Stiles. Like a suit. Like a Stiles suit.
Chess is Stiles’ game. It’s not the game of a Japanese Fox.
i still love that shot so much omg. have you seen. have you seen how tiny darcy is compared to thor. have you seen how tiny everyone is compared to thor