Hi I saw your post about your cat and I'm really sorry I hope he gets better, but I wanted to ask if youre feeding him with a wet food? I know that it can really help as cats don't have a thirst drive so they wont' drink water until theyre already dehydrated, in the wild they get hydrated from eating meat, so wet food is really good for cats and they're kindeys :) I know it can be a bit more expensive but as you've been made aware vet bills are much worse
((Yep! Mr. Kitty is on a doctor recommended high protein all wet food diet until he is better. And after he is better his diet will consist of mainly wet food with some dry food to help with teeth tarter control. He has a constant supply of clean water available to him as well.
But thank you very much! And I hope he gets better as well. Only time will tell. But your thoughts and wishes are much loved!))
I was mixing up another fic with that butler fic you linked to and it was driving me crazy so I spent like half an hour digging through my bookmarks and it's not even butler au it's like caretaker I guess? and it's only mostly fluffy, theres a little sprinkle of angst, but it's really not bad but it's like a similar concept to what anon was looking for but eep i'm rambling- it's called Lonely Talents by derekstilinski if they want to try it
Thanks for the rec! Here you go, anon.
Lonely Talents by derekstilinski
Derek is a world class pianist who falls into deep depression when, after he lost all of his family in a fire years ago, the last thing that was important to him is taken from him when he breaks his hand. In comes Stiles Stilinski, new caretaker of Derek and his home. Stiles is the friend who won’t give up on him.
"And for first chair we have…is that a B? I can’t even read my own handwriting."
"Come on, Finstock, just tell us already!" Stiles yells.
"Bilinski!" Finstock reads, rolling his eyes.
It takes a moment, and Stiles whoops in happiness. “Me! I’m first chair! Yes!” He pumps his fists in the air, almost knocking his cello over. Luckily Scott catches it and Stiles gives him a grateful smile.
"You know that means you also have to represent our school in the tri-city orchestra," Finstock says, levelling Stiles with a hard look. "Which means no fooling around and making our school look bad."
"Me? Of course not," Stiles says, grinning.
"And I don’t know why you’re celebrating about being first chair, Bilinski, you’re the only celloist we have!” Finstock calls back at him, but Stiles is still too giddy to care.
Unfortunately going to tri-city practice also means getting up at 5.a.m to take the short bus with all the other first chair instruments to Beacon Valley High School where the practice is at.
Stiles is barely awake and is taking his cello out of his case when another boy stares him down. “That’s my seat,” he says.
Stiles blinks at him. “Does it have your name on it?”
"Yes, it does," and he yanks Stiles forward, rude, and Stiles turns around and sees D. Hale, 1st Chair Cello written in neat print on masking tape.
"Excuse me," Stiles says, "I am also a first chair, and I am not going to sit in a chair that’s labeled for seconds."
Their staring contest is broken when the conductor, a tall woman with dark hair, raps on the music stand in front of Stiles. “I see you have met one of our fellow tri-city orchestra members, Derek,” she says, “Thank you for welcoming him so kindly to our music room. Why don’t you guys get warmed up together?”
Stiles stares down Derek and they both grab their cellos and reluctantly run through a few scales together, but Stiles is so affronted by his arrogant attitude and smug pretty eyes that it’s clearly on from the minute they met that he is definitely Stiles’ nemesis.
Scott frowns when Stiles tells him at their own practice later while Scott polishes his trumpet for the millionth time. “I don’t understand how he can be your nemesis, Stiles, you’re not a superhero,” Scott says.
Finstock keeps the band late after school, but the percussion section is over-rowdy as usual (not everyone makes the switch from marching band season to concert band well, but Stiles just preens because it means he doesn’t have to ring a stupid triangle while marching around the football field and he can just play).
It’s late, and people have scattered to various practice rooms to practice bits of their latest song with their section, but Stiles is his section, and he’s already memorized this song and got it down pat. He can vaguely hear Finstock speaking with someone in the distance, like someone is visiting, maybe? Whatever.
Stiles drifts into a version of Smooth Criminal that he’s been working on, strumming through the first few chords, getting into the beat, when someone sits down across from him and pulls out another cello from a case. It’s Derek, watching Stiles intently, and Stiles raises his eyebrow in a challenge, not lifting his fingers from his strings for one instant.
Derek draws his bow across his own cello strings; the notes ring out an octave lower than the chords Stiles is playing, and they play in perfect harmony for a moment, but the song rushes them faster, and Stiles climbs higher with the melody, body moving in frenzied motion, but Derek keeps up perfectly, even throws in a countermelody, and Stiles blood is running hot, and his hands can barely keep up, and it feels fantastic, at first like a race to see who can finish first but then Stiles realizes with a breath that they’re working in perfect tandem, the song flowing between them, the chords thrumming hot beneath their fingers.
They finish to a scattered applause; Stiles hadn’t even realized people had come into the room.
"Well, when I brought Derek here to apologize for his rudeness this morning, I certainly didn’t expect this," the Beacon Valley High School’s conductor says, looking at them.
"Mom," Derek protests, embarrassed.
"Well, you two have quite the energy together, I hope you can apply it to the songs we are actually planning to play for the showpiece," she says.
Stiles and Derek look at each other, and then look away just as quickly, a blush threatening to form on Stiles’ cheeks.
would you consider writing more of that firefighter au because if so I am willing to marry you. I will literally do anything for firefighter fic. like if you need someone murdered I could probably take care of that for you. just you know, putting it out there...
I WOULD LOVE TO WRITE MORE OF IT. But I have zero ability to write a coherent storyline.
Would you settle for a not!fic of what I would write if I had any idea of where this story is going?
Allison gets back from lunch, learns she just missed Derek, and demands to tag along for dinner. Stiles can’t exactly say no because it’s not a date - it’s not - so all three go to a little diner on the edge of town very few students frequent (except for the post-grad students living off campus who need a place to study away from the time-wasting temptations in their apartments). She’s not stupid, though, and catches on pretty quickly to the fact that she’s a third wheel. Not that either Stiles or Derek makes her feel that way on purpose, of course. So she leaves after twenty minutes with a, “It’s really good to see you, Derek. I hope I’ll see you again soon.”
It’s awkward for about two seconds after she leaves because they all know, but then Stiles asks about Cora and Derek’s eyes glaze over in pride because she’s doing really well for herself now and everything is good again.
They don’t officially date for another four months. They hang out all the time when they’re not working, but there are no kisses. There are no declarations. That finally changes when Derek goes over to Stiles’ place after a particularly rough fire in which about half of the family inside died. Derek tries to say something then, but Stiles stops him because he doesn’t want anything to change out of grief or adrenaline.
Stiles waits a week before asking Derek to help him track down a bauchan. As a date.
Derek accepts amidst whistles and catcalls from his coworkers.
(His coworkers don’t know about the bauchan.)
And a little backsory on other aspects.
Stiles and Allison only took jobs as lowly campus police officers because the college town is a Beacon Hills-esque magnet for the supernatural. He and Allison teamed up right out of college, and, with their degree in Criminology and certificate from the Police Academy respectively, formed their own little agency that deals with supernatural threats. (Since the entire campus police force before them was eaten by a wendigo, they certainly felt the town qualified for their expertise.)
Derek’s coworkers like him a lot. He’s quiet, but he’ll generally join the guys for a beer after work whenever they decide to go out.
Shelly has three grandchildren not much younger than the college students she flirts with.
Allison dates a lot, but never stays with one guy for long. She’s really happy.
oh my god can we get more of the self-help writer derek fic it's so cute and good and I love it and I want moorrrreeee but if not then its still perfect and ilu
lol omg i can't believe you like it that much :DD all the credit for the idea goes to foreverblue-navy (who made the gorgeous graphic!!). the sterek au graphic+drabble combo for valentine's day is all her brain child :D
i'm actually really surprised how many ppl want more of it! o.O! perhaps i shall have to try writing like 10k or so of it lol. we had an entire plot cooked up for it (okay, beth came up with the plot, i was just there going OMG YESSSSS lol). after these sterek campaign fics, i'll add it to the pool of fics i'm working on XDDD
In the wake of all these lovely Christmas fluff fics, I present to you 7k of Sterek hate sex porn with Cop!Stiles and Firefighter!Derek. Still a WIP, but we're halfway there, guys!
The mayor raises an eyebrow, flipping through the stack of paper in the folder. "Let's see, I've got property damage, noise disturbances, reports of a fight between 87th Precinct officers and Station 14 firefighters, public indecency, lewd behavior-- this is unacceptable behavior for two professional men in the civil service." Lydia Martin leans back in the chair, flicking her impeccable nails against the desk. "I've already recommended to both the Police Commissioner and the Fire Chief that you both enter into couple's therapy with a licensed therapist before you are approved to resume service."
"Did you say--" Stiles starts.
"What?" Derek growls.
"We're not a couple!" they both retort in unison.
"We're not together," Stiles insists.
Lydia coughs pointedly. "An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell."
hey I looked around your blog a bit but I didn't see anything about it so I figured i'd ask and hope i'm not pestering you with something you get asked a lot but do you have an idea when you think stiles's story time will be finished or updated? i'm trying to wait until it's finished to start it because i've had far too many wips abandoned on me so as a policy I try to avoid them but I keep almost giving in on this one so I hope it's soon but take your time :) thanks
Whoops! Look like I missed replying to you.
I just posted a new chapter yesterday, so there are only two chapters and an epilogue left. They’re actually already mostly written, or half-written in the case of chapter 15. But because I’m the sort of idiot who tries to (figuratively) eat a steak in one bite, I have about a billion things on my plate and it may still take a couple weeks till I have the time to complete them. It’s sad but unfortunately my jobs and doctoral dissertation get higher priority positions than all my WIPs, the little line-cutting brats.
Anywho, never fear, this one won’t be abandoned and the end is in sight!
wheelsjustkeeponturning replied to your post: "The new doctor will be completely different!!"...
oh wow who knows wait hold on maybe *gasp* people are all individuals and shouldn’t be categorized by their gender or race? no that’s just inconceivable. he’s white. he must be the same as all other white guys.
It's a matter of representation. I'm not an idiot, I KNOW every person is different, but when the "important roles" are always played by people who share the same traits...the others are clearly not represented enough.
Do you realize how groundbreaking it would have been to have the doctor, a character known for 50 years now and part of one of the most famous tv shows in the world, played by a woman of color?
The fact that it would've been groundbreaking speaks volumes about the issues of representation!!
