Salutations Friends,
As promised, below you will find the reveals of who authored each of our Spring Exchange fics. Thank you to all who participated. There were a couple late dropouts- no worries, we know how life can be a cruel mistress sometimes. Therefore, a special giant thanks to Eva ( @apinkducky ) who graciously volunteered to not only pinch hit write one fic, but also coauthored a second, thus ensuring everyone received a gift and saving our (the mods) collective bacon..
So Ευχαριστώ πολύ, Dear
Without further ado (reveals and links to fics below the cut):
“Do You Wish We’d Fall in Love”: for @troubleiwant written by @dude-its-bcn-hlls
“You’re in love with my brother!” Scott accuses - completely out of the blue if you ask Stiles. There is nothing whatsoever that could even explain why this question would cross his best friend’s mind. In the middle of them being Call of Duty no less.
“No!” Stiles gets out, grabbing in chest in betrayal. “How dare you accuse me with such blatantlies.”
“You’ve been talking about him nonstop for ten minutes,” Scott counters, and honestly it’s like they’re in court. Where’s the jury? “I kept count.”
“The Pastry Trespasser” for @alocalband written by @mad-madam-m
The last thing Stiles expected when he walked into the back of the café at 5 a.m. was to see someone else already there.
He frowned at the coat already hanging on the rack by the back door and startled at the noise of someone moving around in his pantry. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t his pantry—both Danny and Isaac used it as well—but before 10 a.m., the café was his domain. And Stiles was just a wee bit possessive.
He stomped over to the pantry and opened his mouth to let the trespasser have a piece of his mind, when he caught an actual look at the trespasser and promptly swallowed his tongue.
“Love in an Elevator”: for @writerdragonfly written by @annabethlemorte
Derek spins his keys around his index finger as he jogs up the last few steps to the third floor landing. He blows out a breath as he rounds the top of the stairs, patting the banister as he does. Derek is nearly to Isaac’s apartment when he hears a loud thud and muttered curses.
“Ow, shit, god dammit!”
Derek rushes towards the small elevator at the end of the hall. He skids to a stop and gapes; wedged diagonally in the elevator doorway, is a loveseat. Derek puts his keys into his jacket pocket and calls into the elevator, “Uh, hello? Are you okay in there?”
“All My Struggles Led Me Here”: for @goldeneyedsourwolf written by @captaintinymite
Derek’s knees wobbled and his legs shook as he sat down on his bed. The tightness in his chest had long since become an old friend. At this point, he didn’t even know where his fear and loneliness ended and he began. They were so intrinsically woven into the fibers of his soul, that he didn’t think he’d ever be free of them.
He thought he could do it, thought he could manage to get through the loss of his sister. He thought he could continue to put one foot in front of the other every day the way he had been doing for six years before the police knocked on his door at three in the morning to tell him Laura, his best friend and only surviving family member was gone now, too. However, as he sat there in a crumpled heap on his living room floor, feeling her loss harder than any that came before, he felt something shatter in his chest.
“Untitled”: for @stilesinwonderland by @alocalband
“Jonathan” is not the first evil villain to try to infiltrate the pack’s ranks through smooth-talking and wide, puppy dog eyes. Nor is he the first to completely succeed as a direct result of no one listening to Stiles.
Same song, different verse. Stiles has made his peace with it. Sort of.
But he knows now, after so many years, that he needs more than just his gut instinct for anyone to believe him about this shit. He’s learned that the hard way. Feels like he’s learning it the hard way all over again every time he thinks about it, to be honest. But it’s the way things are, apparently, and so he swallows back the hurt and gets on with business.
“Pretty As a Picture”: for @dude-its-bcn-hlls written by @fighthaus
For Stiles nothing compared to the beauty of California national parks. He had visited countless national parks across the continental United States, but he still loved what California had to offer the most.
Stiles was in the process of organising an exhibition of his photographs of California. He had some truly beautiful photos, but Stiles wasn’t satisfied. He wanted some really unique shots to be the centrepiece of the exhibition.
Spring was Stiles’ favourite time to photograph. He loved when everything was saturated with colour and life, when the wild flowers were in full bloom and everything was lush and green. Naturally the one day Stiles decided to go out, rain was coming down in a constant drizzle.
“I’m Glad It Was You”: for @annabethlemorte written by @bistiles & @captaintinymite
The digital clock on the bedside table glared at Stiles, the time glowing like a pair of accusing eyes in the darkness of his bedroom. It was as though his clock was judging his sleeping habits. Hell, he was judging them himself, because thanks to those angry, red-blocked numbers showing it was past three am, he knew that he would strongly regret what he was doing in the morning. Lack of sleep was a bitch to deal with. Still, he had to finish reading this book, if he wanted to make a breakthrough on his research. He adjusted the reading light by his desk, and to a moment to stretch his back, before returning his thoughts to the book.
“Untitled”: for @mad-madam-m written by @derekdeservesbetter
It all started when Stiles walked into the weekly pack meeting an hour late with dried vomit on his shoulder and tiny tears in his work shirt. Scott asked him what the hell happened and Stiles went into his day at work where there was a call in from a landlord about an abandoned baby which turned out to be a werewolf. He spoke about how he couldn’t find the parents and after a phone call with Deaton he had driven down to a lake house where there was a werewolf couple that take in orphaned wolves.
Derek spent the rest of the evening wondering if he would have gone to an orphanage if Laura didn’t come to pick him up from detention that day. His thoughts spiraled from there, wondering if there were kids or teenagers that are living on the streets. Most police officers probably don’t even know about the supernatural and there are probably kids or teenagers living with humans and are most likely scared to show their true selves. Kids probably would have been kicked out on full moons where they have no control and human families or orphanages don’t understand.
“Untitled”: for @captaintinymite written by @troubleiwant
Stiles angles the can just right and presses the trigger, shooting a glorious stream of white fluff into an arc across the locker he knows belongs to that asshole, Hale. He steps back to examine his handiwork, and grins. It looks exactly like cum shooting out of the huge dick he’d drawn across Boyd and Lahey’s lockers with shaving cream.
At the other end of the locker room, Jackson and Danny are using their own cans to draw an unflattering stick figure holding a basketball and drooling. There are about eight empties littered on the floor, their contents disgorged onto the mirrors, lockers, showers and floor. It’s amazing.
“Hunka Hale’s Burning Love”: for @bistiles written by @apinkducky & @captaintinymite
“Looking good, Hale,” Isaac cackled as Derek walked into BHFD No. 3 only to see his fellow firefighter holding the department’s charity calendar for 2016. “Way to keep it wet.” He pointed to the stream of water splashing all over him as it poured from the truck. “Going to be most popular month for the sixth year in a row, definitely,” he said and winked at him.
It was a running joke within the department that, despite his grumpy demeanor, the ladies (and some men) of Beacon Hills snatched up copies of the calendar like crazy. He’d be annoyed by it if the proceeds didn’t benefit the local food pantries.
“There Are Wolves In the World”: for @fighthaus written by @apinkducky
“And you think that having this vigilante running free in our lands, scaring our people, stealing and setting fires on properties, is a thing that should be allowed, then?”
Stiles was tense like a bow, his shoulders so strained he could break any moment. His nostrils flared with anger, his lips drawn in a tight line but, thankfully, he bowed his head and let his eyes fall on the table. “No, your grace. Those are crimes and crimes are punishable. But there are people in our land that suffer, and until now only rich—”
“So now you are telling me how to rule my land?”
“Untitled”: for @derekdeservesbetter written by @bistiles
There were many things that Derek considered mistakes in his life. Paige was a mistake, even if it hadn’t been an intentional one. Kate was a mistake: a huge, tragic mistake that he would have to carry around for the rest of his days. Jennifer was a mistake, of colossal proportions that had cost people’s lives.
As it was, Derek had a long list of mistakes hanging around his neck, weighing him down. But the one relationship he didn’t expected to regret was with Stiles.
Thank you again to our participants. I hope your gifts were everything you wanted and more.
