#death by Tyler Hoechlin
this, along with the tag, looks like a late 90s fragrance commercial where he just says random nonsense words over and over again like “temporary” and “fallacy” and “transcendent” and then there’s a slow-motion shot of him flicking water off to one side and glaring thoughtfully into the distance
#death by Tyler Hoechlin
"Hey, Stiles, that commercial’s on aga—" Scott starts to call, but Stiles practically flings himself downstairs as soon as he heard that familiar chime of bells, bursting into the living room and wedging himself on the couch between Scott and Kira.
Kira snickers appreciatively and Stiles bats at her hands as she tries to block the screen with her hands, teasing. “Quit it, Kira, you know Hale Fragrances only airs this commercial once a year when they revamp the cologne, and their marketing team is super vigilant about taking down all videos from the web—stop it, both of you,” Stiles says, blushing, pushing Scott and Kira back while they’re laughing.
Stiles watches the model, transfixed as the ethereal music plays, and he stifles a groan when the man flexes on screen, his abdomen rippling with broad, tanned muscle, wet with beads of water as he inhales, entire body trembling with some unspoken emotion, hazel eyes glimmering with intensity as he says “transcendent.” The word rings low in that rich voice, smooth like caramel.
Stiles remains still, drinking in the seconds that the man is on the screen until it fades to white and a glass bottle appears, a woman’s voice intoning, “Death, by Tyler Hoechlin.”
"Earth to Stiles, earth to Stiles," Scott laughs as he pokes Stiles in the shoulder.
"Shut up," Stiles says, feeling his face turn red. "I’m going back to work," and he ambles back upstairs to his room. He loses himself in his term paper, and manages two more pages (with only one more trip downstairs when the commercial airs again) before he feels like his brain is fried. Stiles rubs his head and walks down to the nearby coffeeshop for a caffeine booster before he dive back into research and work. He puts in his order and hangs back to wait for his drink, idly picking at the blends available when two people walk in the door, bickering quietly as they get in line. One of them is a tall, gorgeous brunette, dressed simply in an elegant business suit—and the other—Stiles has to suppress his laughter— is wrapped in a long, thick winter coat, complete with scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and most of his face, sunglasses, and a hat.
It’s ridiculous and hilarious, because it’s springtime in California, and yeah the weather might get kind of brisk sometime but it nowhere near calls for that kind of getup. The man is twitching, glancing back and forth between the other people in the coffeeshop, but for the most part no one is paying attention, aside from Stiles.
"Just relax, Der, nothing’s going to happen, that was years ago, no one is going to remember," the brunette says.
The man mutters something behind his scarf, and the woman raises her eyebrows, and he tugs it down, revealing a perfect mouth surrounded by familiar stubble, and no way, it’s not possible, Stiles thinks, and he stares when the man says, “I can’t believe you made me come out with you, Laura,” and it’s that voice, Stiles knows that voice—
"Order up for St-Style?"
And now the man is taking off his sunglasses, and it’s him, it’s definitely him, and oh shit, he’s noticed Stiles staring back at him—
Stiles fumbles towards the counter and he blurts, “Just give me the sex,” while looking straight into the model’s impossibly green-hazel-whatever eyes, and fuck, “—give me a sec, I mean,” Stiles says, coloring brightly, and promptly trips over a display of Colombian coffee.
From keyboards to cupboards, computer science enters the culinary arts.
"We’ll have a movie night where we sit on the couch and wrap blankets around ourselves and watch movies, or we’ll go out to dinner, or we’ll cook. I’ll make a bunch of food, and because I live in the same building as Tyler H. and Tyler P. and Dylan, I’ll take it over and we’ll all have dinner together. It’s so much fun!" - Crystal Reed (Seventeen, 2011)
I have no idea.
fox!Stiles and Wolf!Derek. Derek takes ‘pick-up lines’ to a new level.