Appleinapie
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Dean Winchester had landed his eyes on Castiel Novak on a random Thursday evening, at one of those tortuously dull social events that had enough booze to be labeled a party, and sealed both their fates right then and there.
Castiel knew what Dean saw when he looked at him, when his eyes followed him throughout the night, right till the dead of the night before he sauntered across to make his move, convinced of himself as a predator locked on a sure game. He saw the charmingly polite and reserved hot little nerd. The sweet and shy guy with lips made for sin and sharp blue eyes that gave away the spirit of a vixen.
He saw in Castiel the most stirring challenge, the perfect tight little ass with just enough brains and just enough bite to really make him feel the high of a victory, of a hunt when he got it bent to his will. And he truly didn’t mind, because he himself found the perfect man for him. The man who would bend anyone to his whims with just a quirk of his lips, the man who held in his shoulders the kind of authority that only labour hardened, calloused hands can afford. A self-made cock sure, red blooded specimen, who had just enough depth and class to keep him engaged but was really a simple man.
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Maybe he’s being a touch ungracious toward Eddie, sure. But he was just starting to get into the swing of things on campus. Kappa Sigma was supposed to be his thing. And now this Eddie Diaz guy has to show up like a knight on a white horse after Buck had to suffer through weeks last semester of hearing about how amazing and wonderful he is. It just freaks him out a little because—well—because—
Buck is just a very replaceable person, let’s be honest. And Eddie Diaz is the opposite. Eddie Diaz is the person that people keep talking about for years and years after he’s gone. He’s the type of person who doesn’t have to rely on being drunk and attractive to make friends. He’s the type of person, quite frankly, who replaces people like Buck.
It’s just a little frightening.
or: the buddie frat au
Bookmarked by Appleinapie
11 Aug 2026
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“What day is it?” Derek demanded.
“What?”
“The day! What day is today?!” Derek let Stiles go, but only so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. He tapped at the home screen, and then went so perfectly still that Stiles was pretty sure this guy wasn’t human. No human could stand that still.
When it was clear Derek wasn’t going to move again without some prompting, Stiles said, “It’s Wednesday.”
“That’s impossible,” Derek whispered.
“Not really, it comes around every seven days.”
“This is impossible,” Derek said again, looking around himself, as if he was searching for something.
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Bookmarked by Appleinapie
08 Aug 2026
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"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."
-----The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
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Bookmarked by Appleinapie
08 Aug 2026
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He drops his eyes down from Eddie's careful gaze. Has to. Before he starts tumbling out words that sound like I love you or fucking—marry me? God. He settles his gaze back on Delilah instead. Those big, saucer eyes staring up at Eddie like he’s—well, magic. Like he’s the centre of the universe. Thinks, me too, kiddo.
or, Buck and Eddie find a baby and figure some things out.
Bookmarked by Appleinapie
23 Jul 2026
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Chris wants his dad. He wants his bed. But he can't have those yet, and he and Dad never really text because if Dad’s not working they’re usually together or one of them is too busy to text, so texting Dad feels weird, but Buck… He can text Buck.
do you think it was a good thing for Pandora to keep hope in the box?
The little dots pop up immediately, which Chris wasn’t expecting.
I’m not sure. I do know that it technically wasn’t a box, it was a pithos, which is like a big jar they used for storage. Box is a mistranslation, but it became so widely used that we all just roll with it now.
It’s a very classic Buck response. The dots keep going.
On that note, “hope” isn’t an exact translation either. Another way that people translate it is “deceptive expectation.” Hope isn’t necessarily deceptive, and we tend to use it in a positive way, so it’s maybe not the BEST word to use, but I guess in English we don’t have a better one for “deceptive expectation” and “hope” sounds pithier.
Deceptive expectation. Huh.
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Bookmarked by Appleinapie
17 Jul 2026