Hello there! I'm Taylor. 16. American. I'm in too many fandoms to count, so my blog is just a collision of all of them! Sterek and Pydia give me life. I take art requests, so feel free to ask or message me about any you have and I'll see what I can do! You can ask me anything, and if you ever just need someone to talk to I am always here. I don't bite!

 

torakodragon:

theragnarokd:



nightrevelations:



theragnarokd:



torakodragon:



Stiles was glad he found him. He was large, scary looking, and quiet. The boys who use to pick on him at the bus stop always run straight home now. And best of all, he doesn’t even care if stiles occasionally asks to sit on his shoulders the walk home.  Weeks have gone by since the last time stiles was running from the bullies in his neighborhood. Only to hide behind Mr. Large, Scary and Quiet near the park gates. That day was the only day he had spoken since. or well, made a noise. Stiles had pleaded for the man walk him home; terrified and ignoring the things his dad told him about strangers. The small grunt in return lead to Stiles anticipating the bus ride back from school to see him in the same spot everyday from that point on.



Derek doesn’t know how to talk to little kids, isn’t much of a talker to begin with. But that’s okay, because the kid talks enough for both of them.
“We played with magnets today in class,” the kid says. His feet bounce off Derek’s chest, kicking him lightly. It doesn’t hurt or anything, so Derek doesn’t complain. “Turn them to side and they stick, another and they push away. Weird.”
He chatters on about magnets, and other things - glitter comes into it at some points - and it makes Derek’s thoughts disjointed, far-back memories of first grade and a time when safety meant looking both ways before crossing the road.
At the gate to the kid’s house, Derek lets him down. The kid pulls on the collar of Derek’s t-shirt, insistent, until Derek bends and lets the kid plant a smooch on his cheek, throw enthusiastic stick-thin arms around Derek’s neck. Kid’s an affectionate little thing; Derek allows it. Time enough for the world to punch the softness out of the kid.
Derek hangs back, watches the kid get into the house. He can see through the windows, if he tries, sees a father working at the kitchen table turning to hug his son as he walks in the door. The house is lit, and it’s turning dark outside. Easier to see them than it would for them to see him.
He takes his time walking back home.
Laura’s still asleep when he gets there. She sleeps a lot these days, nearly as much as uncle Peter. Derek nudges her, goes hunting when she doesn’t stir. There’s rabbit cooking over their hotplate when she gets up.
Her shoulder brushes Derek’s. “Good day at school?” Her voice is far off, but Derek thinks it’s nice she pretends to care.
Derek shrugs. Laura doesn’t push.
He comes with her after dinner, to sleep on the damp mattress and the pile of blankets they salvaged. Derek thinks, fleetingly, of the kid’s warm little body, the soft bundle of his clothes, the well-lit house he walked into. 
Laura clings close, like she can feel Derek’s thoughts. “Are you okay here?” Here, in the burnt down remains of their house, on the mattress that used to belong to their parents.
In a voice rusty from lack of use, Derek says, “It’s home,” and clings closer to his Alpha.



It’s weird.  There’s never been any cause to think about it, before now, and so Derek just…hasn’t.  Now, though, after almost two months of picking Stiles up like clockwork, a man waits inside the window. He’s never been standing, before, always laid out in a chair with his face turned down.  Stiles’ father.  It doesn’t hit Derek how bad, how weird, how damning it all looks until he’s leaning down to offer his cheek to Stiles, the kiss today stickier than normal because Stiles got grape juice all over his mouth and never washed it off.  Even through the thick door of the house, Derek hears the sudden intake of breath.  Stiles goes inside, smiling at his dad, announcing, “I brought Derek! I brought Derek!”  Derek hears Stiles’ father say “I thought Derek was imaginary”, to which Stiles laughs, innocent.  And that leaves Derek alone with Stiles’ father, Beacon Hills’ newest sheriff.  Five minutes pass. The Sheriff oscillates between banked anger and pity. He offers to help Derek find grief counseling, to get him a mentor.  None of that will help. Derek only wants a certain kid’s smiles, maybe. His silly stories and his joy. Those are the exact things Derek loses that day.



Stiles’ dad is quiet but firm when he tells Stiles he’ll walk him home from now on. Stiles protests, naturally.
Naturally, it doesn’t help. “It was very nice of Derek to help you,” Stiles’ dad says. “But you know you shouldn’t go with strangers.”
“He’s not a stranger!” Stiles comes perilously close to stomping his foot. “And he’s not dangerous either, he’s been walking me home for ages and nothing bad’s happened yet!”
Stiles doesn’t know why, but it makes his dad’s face crumple. His dad goes to his knees, hugs Stiles close and strong. “Stiles,” his dad says, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Anything.”
Stiles swallows and nods. “I’ll stay safe,” he says in a small voice.
He means to be good, and mostly, he is. Stiles lets dad walk him home, doesn’t do more than glance at Derek as he heads in the opposite direction. He always thought Derek lived near them; it made no sense for him to walk Stiles home otherwise.
Then there is a snow day, and school lets out early. Stiles slips out amongst the throngs of happy kids, unnoticed. Determined.
It’s not like he goes back on his promise when he goes into the woods. Following Derek. Because Derek isn’t actually dangerous. Stiles will show his father, somehow. 
He doesn’t account, however, for the forest itself.
Stiles shouts when the ground collapses under his feet, tumbling into a pit in a mess of snow and dead vegetation. The wet gets under his coat and in his boots, and he squaks. Broken branches pin him in place; he tries to get away, but can’t find a purchase in the slick leaves.
It’s not so bad, though. Stiles is starting to feel warm again when something grabs him by the back of the neck.
“Kid,” someone says, frantic and hoarse. “Kid, you’re cold. Where’s your cellphone?”
Stiles fishes it out of his pocket. It takes a minute; his fingers are numb. He hears a tone being dialled, thinks he catches his father’s gruff voice on the other end.
“He’s in the woods. His hands are turning blue,” he hears that someone say.
Stiles frowns at his hands. They are. He must have lost his mittens. It’s kind of cool, but that voice sounds so scared. Stiles turns his face upwards, grinning to see Derek. He puts his hands on Derek’s face, trying to reassure, and Derek flinches before putting his hand over Stiles, chafing. That doesn’t feel nice, makes Stiles’ palm feel like pins and needles.
Derek says, “I can bring him over,” and then his face turns blank at what Stiles’ dad replies. He blinks, rapidly. “If you’re sure,” he says, and waits for answer before hanging up.
“C’mon,” Derek says, hauling Stiles up like a sack of potatoes. “You’re coming home with me. Your dad said getting you warm as fast as possible was the main thing.”
Derek’s house isn’t very warm - it’s drafty, because the walls have holes in them - but there’s a bed which is really more like a nest. Derek’s sister is in it, sleeping.
Derek takes off Stiles’ wet coat, gives him an old pair of pants that smells like mildew but is dry and nearly Stiles’ size. He helps hold Stiles up while he changes, looking away.
Then he puts Stiles into bed with his sister - “Laura,” Derek says softly, “company,” - and she just snuffles and puts and arm over Stiles. Derek slides in at Stiles’ other side, chafing his hands over Stiles’ back.
“Hurts,” Stiles complains. His entire body feels like it’s being stabbed repeatedly, now.
“Sorry,” Derek says, but when he takes his hands away it doesn’t help at all, so Stiles asks for them back.
He knows he must have slept, then, because he wakes up to his father’s frowning face. It’s not a bad frown, though. A considering frown.
It lets Stiles know he has a bargaining point. He clutches Derek’s shirt when he tries to stumble out of the bed.
“I never got hurt when Derek was around,” Stiles says, looking Derek clear in the eye. “I only got hurt when you made him stay away, and then he helped me better.”
Stiles’ dad still doesn’t look convinced.
That means Stiles has to sweeten the deal somehow. “What if both of you walk me home together?” Stiles bargains. “And maybe he could stay for lunch. I’ll eat my greens every day if he can stay for lunch.”
It’s like ice thawing when the sheriff cracks a smile. “Oh, kid.” He shakes his head. “What do you think, Derek?”
Close as he is, Stiles can feel Derek’s nod. Stiles shouldn’t grin at his victory - that might mean Stiles’ dad changing his mind - so he plants a smooch on Derek’s cheek.
Okay, and then he grins anyway. But his dad just sighs, and doesn’t take any of it back, so that’s good.



I seriously can not even….. i love this so much more now. You guys write beautifully, unlike me. So i decided to just illustrate the new editions X3 

torakodragon:

theragnarokd:

nightrevelations:

theragnarokd:

torakodragon:

Stiles was glad he found him. He was large, scary looking, and quiet. The boys who use to pick on him at the bus stop always run straight home now. And best of all, he doesn’t even care if stiles occasionally asks to sit on his shoulders the walk home.

Weeks have gone by since the last time stiles was running from the bullies in his neighborhood. Only to hide behind Mr. Large, Scary and Quiet near the park gates. That day was the only day he had spoken since. or well, made a noise.

Stiles had pleaded for the man walk him home; terrified and ignoring the things his dad told him about strangers.

The small grunt in return lead to Stiles anticipating the bus ride back from school to see him in the same spot everyday from that point on.

Derek doesn’t know how to talk to little kids, isn’t much of a talker to begin with. But that’s okay, because the kid talks enough for both of them.

“We played with magnets today in class,” the kid says. His feet bounce off Derek’s chest, kicking him lightly. It doesn’t hurt or anything, so Derek doesn’t complain. “Turn them to side and they stick, another and they push away. Weird.”

He chatters on about magnets, and other things - glitter comes into it at some points - and it makes Derek’s thoughts disjointed, far-back memories of first grade and a time when safety meant looking both ways before crossing the road.

At the gate to the kid’s house, Derek lets him down. The kid pulls on the collar of Derek’s t-shirt, insistent, until Derek bends and lets the kid plant a smooch on his cheek, throw enthusiastic stick-thin arms around Derek’s neck. Kid’s an affectionate little thing; Derek allows it. Time enough for the world to punch the softness out of the kid.

Derek hangs back, watches the kid get into the house. He can see through the windows, if he tries, sees a father working at the kitchen table turning to hug his son as he walks in the door. The house is lit, and it’s turning dark outside. Easier to see them than it would for them to see him.

He takes his time walking back home.

Laura’s still asleep when he gets there. She sleeps a lot these days, nearly as much as uncle Peter. Derek nudges her, goes hunting when she doesn’t stir. There’s rabbit cooking over their hotplate when she gets up.

Her shoulder brushes Derek’s. “Good day at school?” Her voice is far off, but Derek thinks it’s nice she pretends to care.

Derek shrugs. Laura doesn’t push.

He comes with her after dinner, to sleep on the damp mattress and the pile of blankets they salvaged. Derek thinks, fleetingly, of the kid’s warm little body, the soft bundle of his clothes, the well-lit house he walked into. 

Laura clings close, like she can feel Derek’s thoughts. “Are you okay here?” Here, in the burnt down remains of their house, on the mattress that used to belong to their parents.

In a voice rusty from lack of use, Derek says, “It’s home,” and clings closer to his Alpha.

It’s weird.

There’s never been any cause to think about it, before now, and so Derek just…hasn’t.

Now, though, after almost two months of picking Stiles up like clockwork, a man waits inside the window. He’s never been standing, before, always laid out in a chair with his face turned down.

Stiles’ father.

It doesn’t hit Derek how bad, how weird, how damning it all looks until he’s leaning down to offer his cheek to Stiles, the kiss today stickier than normal because Stiles got grape juice all over his mouth and never washed it off.

Even through the thick door of the house, Derek hears the sudden intake of breath.

Stiles goes inside, smiling at his dad, announcing, “I brought Derek! I brought Derek!”

Derek hears Stiles’ father say “I thought Derek was imaginary”, to which Stiles laughs, innocent.

And that leaves Derek alone with Stiles’ father, Beacon Hills’ newest sheriff.

Five minutes pass. The Sheriff oscillates between banked anger and pity. He offers to help Derek find grief counseling, to get him a mentor.

None of that will help. Derek only wants a certain kid’s smiles, maybe. His silly stories and his joy.

Those are the exact things Derek loses that day.

Stiles’ dad is quiet but firm when he tells Stiles he’ll walk him home from now on. Stiles protests, naturally.

Naturally, it doesn’t help. “It was very nice of Derek to help you,” Stiles’ dad says. “But you know you shouldn’t go with strangers.”

“He’s not a stranger!” Stiles comes perilously close to stomping his foot. “And he’s not dangerous either, he’s been walking me home for ages and nothing bad’s happened yet!”

Stiles doesn’t know why, but it makes his dad’s face crumple. His dad goes to his knees, hugs Stiles close and strong. “Stiles,” his dad says, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Anything.”

Stiles swallows and nods. “I’ll stay safe,” he says in a small voice.

He means to be good, and mostly, he is. Stiles lets dad walk him home, doesn’t do more than glance at Derek as he heads in the opposite direction. He always thought Derek lived near them; it made no sense for him to walk Stiles home otherwise.

Then there is a snow day, and school lets out early. Stiles slips out amongst the throngs of happy kids, unnoticed. Determined.

It’s not like he goes back on his promise when he goes into the woods. Following Derek. Because Derek isn’t actually dangerous. Stiles will show his father, somehow. 

He doesn’t account, however, for the forest itself.

Stiles shouts when the ground collapses under his feet, tumbling into a pit in a mess of snow and dead vegetation. The wet gets under his coat and in his boots, and he squaks. Broken branches pin him in place; he tries to get away, but can’t find a purchase in the slick leaves.

It’s not so bad, though. Stiles is starting to feel warm again when something grabs him by the back of the neck.

“Kid,” someone says, frantic and hoarse. “Kid, you’re cold. Where’s your cellphone?”

Stiles fishes it out of his pocket. It takes a minute; his fingers are numb. He hears a tone being dialled, thinks he catches his father’s gruff voice on the other end.

“He’s in the woods. His hands are turning blue,” he hears that someone say.

Stiles frowns at his hands. They are. He must have lost his mittens. It’s kind of cool, but that voice sounds so scared. Stiles turns his face upwards, grinning to see Derek. He puts his hands on Derek’s face, trying to reassure, and Derek flinches before putting his hand over Stiles, chafing. That doesn’t feel nice, makes Stiles’ palm feel like pins and needles.

Derek says, “I can bring him over,” and then his face turns blank at what Stiles’ dad replies. He blinks, rapidly. “If you’re sure,” he says, and waits for answer before hanging up.

“C’mon,” Derek says, hauling Stiles up like a sack of potatoes. “You’re coming home with me. Your dad said getting you warm as fast as possible was the main thing.”

Derek’s house isn’t very warm - it’s drafty, because the walls have holes in them - but there’s a bed which is really more like a nest. Derek’s sister is in it, sleeping.

Derek takes off Stiles’ wet coat, gives him an old pair of pants that smells like mildew but is dry and nearly Stiles’ size. He helps hold Stiles up while he changes, looking away.

Then he puts Stiles into bed with his sister - “Laura,” Derek says softly, “company,” - and she just snuffles and puts and arm over Stiles. Derek slides in at Stiles’ other side, chafing his hands over Stiles’ back.

“Hurts,” Stiles complains. His entire body feels like it’s being stabbed repeatedly, now.

“Sorry,” Derek says, but when he takes his hands away it doesn’t help at all, so Stiles asks for them back.

He knows he must have slept, then, because he wakes up to his father’s frowning face. It’s not a bad frown, though. A considering frown.

It lets Stiles know he has a bargaining point. He clutches Derek’s shirt when he tries to stumble out of the bed.

“I never got hurt when Derek was around,” Stiles says, looking Derek clear in the eye. “I only got hurt when you made him stay away, and then he helped me better.”

Stiles’ dad still doesn’t look convinced.

That means Stiles has to sweeten the deal somehow. “What if both of you walk me home together?” Stiles bargains. “And maybe he could stay for lunch. I’ll eat my greens every day if he can stay for lunch.”

It’s like ice thawing when the sheriff cracks a smile. “Oh, kid.” He shakes his head. “What do you think, Derek?”

Close as he is, Stiles can feel Derek’s nod. Stiles shouldn’t grin at his victory - that might mean Stiles’ dad changing his mind - so he plants a smooch on Derek’s cheek.

Okay, and then he grins anyway. But his dad just sighs, and doesn’t take any of it back, so that’s good.

I seriously can not even….. i love this so much more now. You guys write beautifully, unlike me. So i decided to just illustrate the new editions X3 

image

image

image

Not Like Bond & Moneypenny // WhoNatural

Rating: Mature

" Stiles thinks he’s finally getting a break when a job at the sleek, sophisticated, Alpha Magazine opens up - but soon realises he’s not going to be writing anything and instead is playing tutor-slash-babysitter to their new Editor-in-Chief. Derek’s spoiled, grumpy, in way over his head…and so painfully attractive it makes Stiles want to lick his face. So there’s very little choice in the matter."

hoechlinth:

I know you’re mad but you’re kinda being a jerk right now, Derek. 

I… I’m sorry. 

Look, I know I get in the way but I really thought you were done for this time. What would the pack do without you?

What would I do without you, Stiles?

Sterek AU: After a vicious fight with a rival pack, Stiles is lucky to escape with only a broken arm. Derek’s fear for Stiles’ safety causes him to lash out at the only person who truly has his back. 

twrecs4charity:

Sterek High School AU Reclist of Reclists [pt. 1]

gifs: [x] [x] | others reclists: Highschool AU pt. 2Coffee Shop AUSex Pollen, Demon!StilesStudent-Teacher AUFake Boyfriends (pt. 1)Werewolf!Stiles

[note: everytime you click to view a fic from recs4charity, a small sum of money is donated to LGBTQ Rights groups!]

Reclist #1: Jen’s Reclist (swingsetindecember):

Practice Makes Perfect by  

In his sophomore year, Stiles gets dragged to lacrosse tryouts by Scott and ends up practicing alongside the senior captain, Derek Hale. Stiles just wants to live long enough to become a junior.

And Then There Is No Mystery Left (Baby, I’m Sweet On You) by 

Stiles has no idea why Derek is sitting at his lunch table.

Easy Alpha by 

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school slut, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popuplar belief, everyone is still a virgin.

do it for our country by 

In which Derek tries to play it cool but Stiles is totally hep to his jive.

C’mon Now Sugar by 

A Teen Wolf/Veronica Mars fusion AU.

Stiles helps his father out with his private investigation agency while trying to survive high school. But when murders that might be connected to the death of his best friend Laura start occurring, he is forced to team up with her brother Derek to get to the bottom of it.

The Thickening of Your Scent by ladylade

…the one where Derek is a teenage werewolf who wants to bang the freshman with a crush on him. 

either i’m going to kill you or i’m beginning to like you by 

[no description available]

Trials (and Tribulations) by N/A

Sophomore Stiles Stilinski has had a crush on Senior Derek Hale since he was a freshman. Most people, including Derek, know this. Derek doesn’t see Stiles as anything more than an annoying little sophomore, so that’s that. But Stiles has grown over the summer between his freshman and sophomore year, and other people are starting to notice. Derek overhears a graphic description of Stiles, which suddenly makes him see everything he didn’t before (that mouth, those eyes, that body….which make him think of that loyalty, that kindness, that—he’s pretty fucked). But someone else (Danny) seems to be taking an interest in Stiles, and for once, Stiles may actually be encouraging it. Now people in the school are giving Derek wide berth, because he perpetually looks like he wants to kill something.

Untitled by N/A

Stiles never noticed the handsome, sarcastic senior Derek Hale until they run into each other at a party - both ditched by their best friends and hiding out in the backyard. 

Now Stiles is enamored with him and Derek seems to feel the same - but Derek is hiding something from him. 

a.k.a. how Stiles finds out his boyfriend is a werewolf

Not Another Sterek Romance (It Is Absolutely Another Sterek Romance) by 

"You’re gorgeous," Stiles tells Derek, glasses glinting. "We should definitely be having sex right now." 
"Your dad is downstairs," Derek replies, blushing furiously, "and we are studying." 
"Dude, look into my eyes and find even a single trace of evidence that I give a shit about either of those things, I double-dog dare you." 
Derek does. There isn’t any. “Wow, you’re right,” Derek says. “You don’t care at all.”

In which Derek is the worst at history and Stiles wears glasses.

Love Sick Stomach Ache (Sugar Coated Accident) by 

Love declarations can be tricky.

Blame it on the Alcohol by 

Teen Wolf meets Gossip Girl and high school hijinks ensues a.ka. the one where Danny is a vampire, Stiles is a wizard (and is very much Daddy’s boy) and mostly everybody else are still werewolves. And they have way too much money to spend and absinthe to drink.

We’re One of a Kind (Like Dip Da Dip Da Dip Do Whap De Dobby Do) by 

Derek is your classic greaser—with a leather jacket, a hot rod, a hot bike, and a duck butt. Genim “Stiles” Stilinski a total fream—he’s too cool to be a poindexter but he’s so far from a cat that Derek almost feels bad for him. All that’s missing in this love story is some oddly perfectly timed musical numbers.

Big Wolf on Campus by 

Derek Hale didn’t think werewolves existed until he became one.

Untitled by  & 

 PS: Derek has this picture hung up on the inside of his locker.

Derek Hale, Dress Code Enforcer (aka the Bane of Stiles’ Existence) by 

Stiles can’t dress properly, Derek has to convince him that it’s worth his while.

He’s All That by 

In a desperate bid to get Lydia Martin to notice him, Stiles bribes Beacon High’s most popular senior, Derek Hale, into teaching him how to get the girl…and winds up getting the boy instead.

seems to me it’s chemistry by 

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

You + Me = Us (Calculus) by 

[no description available]

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by 

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It’s all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

I must be blind (but now and then I see) by 

Yeah, he would have noticed him.

The Scheming Rhymes of Romance by 

Stiles was and had been Derek’s poetic muse for years, not that Stiles was really all that aware of that fact.

But when Stiles does find out about it their senior year of high school, he’s pretty okay with it.

Alright, so he is definitely a lot more than okay with it.

A story in which Derek writes copious amounts of poetry, Stiles is very appreciative of said poetry as well as Derek’s smile, and all of their friends are oddly and extremely invested in seeing these two get their act together.

positively charged by  

Derek takes Stiles home to meet his family.

It’s a terrible idea.

Eat, Knot, Love by 

Stiles Stilinski, an omega and teenage nobody, is going into heat very soon.

Alpha Derek Hale takes notice.

hoechlinth:

Sterek AU: Stiles thinks that waiting for Derek in his room will be spontaneous and romantic, however Derek doesn’t seem to see it that way. The terms ‘creepy’ and ‘stalkerish’ may have been mentioned and the phrase ‘get the hell out of my room, Stiles!’ might have been used. Over all though, Stiles doesn’t think this is too bad a start to their epic (and clearly destined) romance. At least now he has definite confirmation that Derek knows his name. 

boobyfinstock:

"I love music. I love being a drummer, I love Scott and Allison, but you have to understand that the safety of my friends, my family, and myself, well, that comes first. And if this stalker business doesn’t stop I’m going to have to call it quits for a little bit. Believe me, I don’t want to, but I can’t do anything about it. This is like Harry giving up Ginny to look for the horcruxes, It sucks, but it was necessary."

Sterek AU: Stiles loves being in a band. He loves the adrenaline and how he feels focused on stage and he loves doing it with his best friends and he loves the fans. 

The bad part is when one of your fans goes fucking crazy, keys your car, and you have to hire a personal bodyguard. A personal bodyguard named Derek who is attractive and sarcastic and overconfident and wonderful.

The worst part is when Derek’s apartment starts getting broken into, because he’s “too close” to Stiles, and Derek gets poisoned by milk via said creepy stalker and lands himself in the hospital.

The best part is when they lock the creepy stalker up and Stiles and Derek get to have sexy times on every flat surface in Derek’s apartment.

The press’s favorite part is when Scott, his best friend, brother and bandmate, accidentally outs Stiles in an interview. Stiles wasn’t too mad, but Derek’s family was pissed that Derek hadn’t fucking told them.

The past few months have kind of been a roller coaster, to say the least.

constileslations:

Sterek AU

Stiles starts dating Derek and he decides to tell his dad. And of course everything feels awkward, especially when telling your dad that you’re finally dating. And not just dating, but dating a guy. Who happens to be a werewolf, and is a bit older than you but he’s sure it will be fine. …He hopes.

sunsetdawn:

I’m getting really tired of people saying that Sterek’s chemistry—and for that matter, the chemistry of many other prominent slash ships— is just the work of ‘delusional fans’ when the only difference between their scenes and the ones of canon het couples is the romantic background music.