#my-moodboard

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Bingo Anyone?

I'll start.

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Never Judge a Cook by Their Baking Skills

Written for @sterekvalentineweek​ theme Velvet.

Summary: Expectations are a dangerous thing—especially when it pertains to Stiles and Derek.

The food.

It was the one thing Stiles couldn't talk about enough. People always asked him, "What's it like—marrying a pastry chef?" And he never answered with, "Breakfast in bed," or "He makes all of our meals," or his personal favorite people expected, "I gained ten pounds!" No, Stiles couldn't mention Derek's cooking enough.

Because it sucked ass.

Cakes, crisps, cookies, brownies, macaroons, cupcakes, donuts and truffles, Derek perfected. His pastry skills were top-notch, best-in-the-biz-grade weapons he whipped out whenever he needed to impress people. Derek's cooking skills, though.

Those were shit.

Derek was not the chef of the family, for as much as everyone believed he was. No, that position belonged to Stiles—skinny, defenseless, Stiles. The generally-chaotic, disorganized mess of a man with little attention span and even littler sense of time.

Yet when he was in the kitchen, Stiles became a man of legend.

From breakfast to lunch and dinner, Stiles cooked all of the Stilinski-Hale family's meals. Trashy takeout wasn't an option—no matter how fast their metabolisms were.

"Your body is a temple," Stiles would remind his husband whenever it came to sampling the heathen's creations. He limited them to one new recipe a month to sample until perfection. Anything beyond this was just filling their tanks with sluggish junk food—even if Derek happened to make a somewhat-healthy confection.

Stiles was the chef. It was not a well-known fact that the man served his husband of four years breakfast in bed every Valentine's Day since their initial canoodling. Derek liked to keep it that way, so Stiles entertained his love.

When he griddled that day's meals in nothing but red velvet batter, Derek couldn't complain. Red velvet pancakes, waffles or macaroons were better than the burnt monstrosity Derek would've made otherwise.

The subtle teasing reminder that Derek couldn't actually cook only came once a year, so the pastry chef endured.

Plus, Stiles always managed to make it up to him by being extra affectionate on Valentine's Day, so.

It was a win-win.

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@averysterekwinter Wednesday's mood board. Enjoy!

It took literal years, but Stiles managed to coax Derek into embracing the small part of himself that he thought died in the fire.

The small part of Derek that was a hopeless romantic. The part that insisted on cuddling together under mountains of blankets and pillows whenever possible. That thought candlelit dinners and spring picnics in the preserve and body massages were necessary—not just a nice bonus—for any relationship to thrive.

So, after years of reassurances and more years of stilted practicing, Stiles and Derek finally reached the point in their relationship where Derek could ask for things or do things for Stiles and not worry about Stiles laughing at him for the thought even crossing Derek's mind in the first place.

They reached the point where—when Beacon Hills had the first major power outage of the year, and in the middle of winter no less—Derek could optimistically suggest making their bedroom into a massive blanket fort, breaking out their collection of massage oils and lotions, and spending the night in with a couple glasses of wine by fake candlelight without feeling insecure.

And Stiles would preen at how far Derek has come since their lives stopped being a terrible soap opera, and praise his valued optimism, and assure Derek one more time about how much Stiles loved him. That he thinks an intimate night in while the power problem gets sorted out sounds fantastic.

And later, when the fake candles were turned off and the real ones snuffed out, laying in their blanket fort comfortable and sated and soothed, Stiles would tell Derek one more time that he loved this side of him. And Derek would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after giving Stiles the sweetest, softest kiss ever shared between them.

A/N: I do not own any picture in the above mood board, I am only responsible for putting them together and editing them. All images belong to their respective owners.

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@averysterekwinter Monday’s mood board. Enjoy!

As golden leaves littered the forest floor, Stiles Stilinski lost his humanity.

Well, some of his humanity, anyways.

Scott had to save his life, and Stiles got that, but what Stiles didn't get was how he miraculously got the amber-gold fluffy fur of a fox instead of scary wolfy features like the rest of the pack.

Derek's words from all those years ago echoed in his head. "Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are."

Stiles got that, too—since he was cunning eighty percent of the time and shifty the other twenty—so he tried not to be offended when he didn't get an invite that winter to the solstice party a neighboring pack was throwing. Scott assured him it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with how wolves and foxes didn't get along.

Stiles got a grimace in return when he brought up how Kira was going.

Alas, Stiles resigned himself to staying in, watching Friends reruns and eating pizza alone instead of running with the wolves in his new fox skin.

Halfway through eating his feelings on the couch, Derek returned to the loft. When questioned why he came back early, he merely replied, "It was too quiet."

Stiles then resigned himself to listening to the golden-eyed werewolf try to teach Stiles how to control his full-shift better. It wasn't a hardship—especially when Derek rewarded his boyfriend's successes with lasting kisses that left Stiles's lips tingling for more.

A/N: I do not own any picture in the above mood board, I am only responsible for putting them together and editing them. All images belong to their respective owners.

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Summary: Derek met Stiles once upon a full moon and hated his scent. Every subsequent year, Derek caught himself marking a shift in the human's scent. And every year, Derek's feelings about it become more apparent.

Or: Five times Derek noticed Stiles's scent and one time he loved it.

Rating: T

Archive Warning: None

Relationship: Derek/Stiles

Characters: Derek, Stiles

Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Future, 5+1 Things, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Scents & Smells, Stiles Stilinski's Scent, Sterek Valentine Week 2023            

Language: English

Words: 2.2K

Written for @sterekvalentineweek​ theme Scent.

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@averysterekwinter Saturday's mood board and my last Very Sterek Winter 2022 post. It's a bit longer than the others, but I hope it's enjoyed regardless!

Stiles was infamous for being the worst omega in Beacon Hills. He was loud, brash, and talked too much for his own good. He was too tall, too bony, and even his scent wasn't appealing or alluringly sweet like most omegas. Instead, his natural pheromones mixed tart and savory tones into a sharp Odeur à la Stilinski.

No sane alpha would touch Stiles with a ten foot pole, which he loathed—but who wanted to be chained to a knothead anyways?

The argument didn't stand against the only judge Beacon Hills had had in half a century, Gerard Argent, who was pro-pairing unmated alphas and omegas after their twenty-first birthday in an archaic, over-ritualized mating run.

And guess who made the list this year.

~*~

Derek wasn't proud. Which, in hindsight, is probably why he's been forced to participate in this year's run—for the third unsuccessful year in a row.

Laura started to feel sorry for him. Cora thought he should start acting more "alpha-like" around town so he could nab someone's interest and be able to bow out of this idiotic and outdated tradition. It was how she didn't have to participate in this year's mating run, since the Lahey kid accepted her request to court him last week.

When he suggested only living in Beacon Hills from spring to autumn, Talia growled to him about their family, their roots, and how Derek should refuse to back down from challenges thrown out by bigots like Gerard Argent.

So, not even a week after his twenty-fourth birthday, Derek found himself hiding in one of the few alcoves littered across the preserve. It provided shelter from the light snowfall and wind chill, left Derek alone for the mandatory twelve hours he had to be in the woods for, and still had firewood in it from last ye—

Fire crackled in Derek's ears, which—weird—shouldn't have been happening, since no one ever found this place before. He made sure it was drenched in his albeit weak scent, but...

Some omega he'd never seen before seemed undeterred by Derek's claim on the cave, since he curled up in the deepest part of it with Derek's firewood burning brightly between them, hands outstretched towards the flames to warm his fingers.

Derek cleared his throat. Despite being an alpha he didn't put a lot of force behind it. Just enough to make his presence known—though the omega surely already heard his heartbeat and was ignoring him.

Surprisingly, the omega jumped with a "geh" tumbling from parted lips as he snapped to attention. Eyes landing on Derek, the omega exhaled, "Dude. Wear a bell," before turning back to the fire.

Raising his eyebrows, Derek replied, "Defeats the purpose of hiding, doesn't it."

The omega blinked, brown eyes amber by the bonfire. Looking around the cave with a confused expression, Derek realized how fake the concern was when the omega sarcastically stated, "I didn't see your name on anything."

It was Derek's turn to blink. "This place reeks of me. That should be claim enough, since no one would dare cross an alpha's territory." Looking at a blank expression, Derek amended, "Well. No one sane."

The boy shook his head. "This place doesn't smell like you. In fact," the omega stood, revealing a tall stature, "you don't even smell like anything, let alone an alpha."

It was one of Derek's many alpha-faults. He had been told by many family members how his scent wasn't weak, per se, but his woodsy, burning-maple scent often got overridden by more prominent fragrances others carried. It probably blended into the surrounding forest perfectly, no doubt masking Derek's presence as well, but...

Still.

The only thing that stroked his bruised ego was when the omega gulped and straightened after Derek flashed his red irises. "I assure you," he warned, "I am."

Despite fear clinging to the boy, his chin held high as he stated, "The cave's still mine."

"No," Derek sighed, shoulders resigned as he slowly walked across the stone floor, "it's ours."

The omega—Stiles, he revealed later—appreciated Derek's lack of arrogance as the man popped a squat next to the fire, off to the side to allow Stiles an escape route if he wanted one.

Derek respected the honest opinions—and there were plenty of those—Stiles had, since the alpha rarely received such blunt comments due to people typically cowering in fear around him.

Overall, the twelve hours didn't seem so long when Derek had someone to spend them with.

~*~

The following New Year's Eve, neither man had to spend the day hiding in snow-clad woods. Instead, they spent the evening curled around their own fireplace, encasing their newly-shared living room in a soft, yellow-and-red glow.

A/N: I do not own any picture in the above mood board, I am only responsible for putting them together and editing them. All images belong to their respective owners.

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@averysterekwinter Tuesday's mood board. Enjoy!

Being stuck in Derek's body was awesome.

Well, as awesome as it could be, since his alpha powers evidently transferred over to Stiles's body during the witchy mind-swap. Voodoo magic didn't want to separate the two halves of Derek, apparently. But Derek's body didn't have a fidgeting or ADHD problem, so being relieved from that for the day is nice.

Regardless of the lack of wolfy powers, Stiles gained a few inches in the height department, a lot in the muscle department, and another inch in a different department—information Stiles filed away for future use. He also cataloged as many of Derek's expressions as he could by practicing them in the loft's bathroom mirror.

Smiling looked good on Derek, and Stiles was sad to say he never saw enough of it.

Making a mental note to make the sourwolf grin more often, Stiles relished in the twenty-four hour curse.

~*~

Being stuck in Stiles's body was horrendous.

Trying to explain to the sheriff that, no, Derek would not make it home to dinner tonight because he wasn't Stiles was a headache and a half. And don't even get him started on being closer to the ground and only having his alpha powers to rely on in a fight. They were actually a hindrance in this body, since Stiles's lack of control was fleeting on a good day.

Going to the bathroom felt like he was somehow violating the teen's privacy, despite Stiles no doubt doing the exact same thing intentionally.

And if one more pack member commented on how weird it was to see Stiles wearing serious expressions all the time, Derek was going to lose it. The only plus side was that by tomorrow, Derek would be back in his own body.

Small mercies, and all that.

A/N: I do not own any picture in the above mood board, I am only responsible for putting them together and editing them. All images belong to their respective owners.

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Sterek Big Bang 2023 is underway people, this is not a drill!

You can find beautiful artwork by myself and @kitera-matar on the latest masterpiece written by @anxioussquirrel​​ on AO3!

Event hosted by @sterekbigbang​​ - wonderful working with everyone involved and the collection will be added to daily until everyone’s works have been posted!