based on this, featuring Professor!Derek and Student!Stiles
"I’m sorry, why are we all here again?" Jackson asks, sounding put out. "Because I can think of at least five hundred things I’d rather spend my Saturday night doing than listening to Stilinski’s whining."
"Jackson, Stiles is our friend and he’s in a delicate situation. He needs our emotional support," Allison admonishes, narrowing her eyes. "But if you’d rather keep complaining, I could remind you of that time you cried for two hours because you had a splinter in your foot."
Jackson pales. “It was a big splinter,” he protests.
"I’m sure it was," Allison says sweetly. "We all just could barely see it when they pulled it out because our collective is so bad."
Everyone snickers at that, even Stiles. Lydia is at least considerate enough to try and hide her smile behind her hand, because she’s a good girlfriend like that.
"I’m kinda with Jackson on this one, though," Isaac says from where he’s perched on the table. Ugh, Stiles will have to make him scrub it down later, he eat there, Goddammit. "Why don’ you just screw the guy senseless and be done with it? You get laid, we don’t have to listen to your crying anymore, everyone goes home happy."
"Isaac, he’s Stiles professor,” Scott hisses. “He can’t just have sex with him, that’s illegal.”
Remix of Hands Too Shaky to Hold by dedougal.Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Cora Hale, Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski
Additional Tags: background Derek/Stiles, Canon compliant through 3A
Cora picked up the overflowing recycling bin, rolling her eyes at the crumpled papers on top. Derek always insisted on crumpling papers, no matter how much Cora bitched at him for it. She picked up the topmost sheet, smoothing it out to take up less room. Then she froze, staring down at her mother’s face, sketched in Derek’s fluid pencil lines.
"we’re just a bunch of teenagers. we can’t handle this."
"You’re not in a band!" Andrew shouted. "You sing terrible a capella full of puns."
"That’s not fair," said Jesse. "There’s no such thing as good a capella."
Lately I really thought about drawing some Sterek fanart. And that’s how I got this one.
The bodies and their bed were hell to paint D: and I dunno why because normally I do love to paint materials D:
I also couldn’t resist adding the small fox pillow <3 ;___;
Well, I hope you’ll like it!
Watercolours (St. Petersburgh, White Nights set)
Coloured pencils (different companies)
edited a little with photoshop
Reference for pose:
Today is Copernicus’s 541th birthday. You may remember Copernicus as the man who said “Hey, what if the Earth went around the sun?” To which the Catholic Church replied “Hey, what if we set you on fire?”
For once in his life, Derek was kind of glad there was a line for the only cash register open. Only because he was wide awake at two am and in no rush to get back to an empty apartment, and not at all because he wanted to casually ogle the cashier.
"Insomnia or pregnant wife?" the guy asked when he started scanning Derek’s items.
The cashier - Allison, his nametag said - waved a jar of pickles before placing them in a bag. “You’re buying this and ice cream after midnight. You’re either an insomniac or someone made you go for a craving run. Which I totally get. My best friend’s wife can’t get enough re-fried beans and cottage cheese.”
"Together?" Derek wrinkled his nose.
Allison nodded. “It is wicked to watch her eat. Oh, and you’re total is 34.78.”
As Derek swiped his card, Allison asked, “So, pregnant wife? Girlfriend?”
Derek smirked. “You were right the first time. Can’t sleep.” When all his bags were in hand, he said, “Goodnight, Allison.”
Allison looked down at his name tag, confused, before he sighed, “Goddammit, Scott. Not again.”
"Who got you this week?"
It was only a few days later because Derek was a weak human being. Thankfully no one was around this time to see his frankly depressing attempts at flirting.
"Who got me what?" the cashier asked.
Derek nodded towards the kid’s name tag. This time he was “Stiles.” At least last time he actually got a name.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. That’s really my name.” At Derek’s dubious look, he said, “A nickname, obviously.”
Awesome. Somehow he didn’t think, Hey, I just insulted you to your face, but do you maybe want to get coffee with me sometime? probably wouldn’t cut it. He resolved to leave quietly and find another 24-hour corner store to frequent when, instead of handing over the receipt right away, Stiles scribbled something on the back.
"Now that you have my real name," Stiles said, finally handing the paper to Derek, "I figured you should have my real number too."
I did not kill my wife. I am not a murderer.
Gone Girl (2014), dir. David Fincher