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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 2 days ago

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Derek Hale x Witch!Reader: Haunts & Housecalls

Technically, the next part of Wolfsbane, but it can be read as a standalone. Tell me, does it look like we have a pack mom in the making?

“Seriously, who doesn’t have a phone? How do people get your attention, smoke signals?” You looked up from the tanned skin of the teenage boy in front of you to make eye contact with the slightly older teenage boy who couldn’t sit still and had been ranting and raving since you’d gotten here fifteen minutes ago.

“I don’t usually do house calls.” If it had been up to you, you really would have preferred not to be woken up in the dead of night by a pounding on your door with a fervor that spoke of urgency. You would rather not have seen another teenage boy at your door looking frantic. You could have gone without grabbing a bag of essentials and leaving in your pajamas in the dead of night, where you were driven to an underutilized building and up to a loft where there was blood pooling on the floor and the sharp smell of copper.

You really would have rather never said “Anytime” when Derek had thanked you for helping him that night a few weeks ago. You glance back at the man in question when he barks, “Shut up, Stiles.” He looks way too good for a man who had spent his night fighting, even with blood staining his blue shirt.

Maybe a house call wasn’t so bad every once in a while.

A hiss brought you back to the boy in front of you. You redirected your attention and leaned in closer, fingertips brushing under the wounds that stretched from the side of his neck to the back of his opposite shoulder. Three jagged but equally sized claw marks. You moved your fingers a little higher, pressing firmly. An animalistic whimper came from him as he jerked under your touch. The flesh under your hand was burning hot and inflamed, rigid.

“Let me know when it stops hurting.” You move your fingers down, continuing to press. He makes a face, pressing his lips together, trying to hold back his pained noises. When you hit his lower back, you see the change in his posture. You press again, “Here?”

He nods, “Yeah, about there. Maybe a little lower.” His voice is tired and rough. “It aches, though.” He reluctantly admits. He turns, meeting your eyes almost guiltily, as if it is his fault he was hurting. Or maybe distrustful.

“Aches how?” When he doesn’t speak, you look up at the other dark-haired teenager. Scott, another Alpha. This ragtag group was his pack. Scott looks to Derek, pauses, and crouches by the younger boy.

“Aches how, Liam?” They share a look, then Liam turns back to you, his blue eyes hazed with pain.

“It burns, but it…like pulses, but deeper.” You take the Sharpie out of your bag and draw a line in black ink, a generous distance past where he said the pain stopped. Then glanced at the clock and scribbled the time down underneath.

“We tried to take his pain a few times. But it would only work for a minute. That’s never happened before.”

“It’s the venom, it’s literally killing his cells. You were just hurting yourself more than you were helping him.” Blunt words and unconcerned with the sting. “And how fast has it been spreading?” Liam shook his head, unsure.

“He's been here about two hours, and it has moved a few inches since then.” Derek’s voice was calm and sure. You press your lips together. It was spreading faster than you would like.

“And you don’t know what it was?” Because that would make figuring out a treatment a lot easier. Let's play Russian roulette with venom and hope we pick the right one before it kills you…. Which, honestly, wasn’t a far cry from some of your days as a teenager trapped in the compound of a cult.

“It looked like a wolf, but skinny, like sickly skinny. Its fur was dark…Maybe it was another werewolf fully shifted?” Liam offered. You thought for a moment, leaning back, going over your knowledge of supernatural creatures.

Your mind stopped on one.

“Was it up by the mountains? Did it have red eyes?”

Liam’s face scrunched, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“It sounds like a Haunt.” Your hands go back to his skin, pulling below the cuts, making him wince. “Liam, this is really important.” You wait for him to look at you before continuing. “When it attacked you, did any saliva touch your skin?” You watched his blue eyes flashing back and forth, skimming through his memory.

“Yeah. Yeah, but just a little.” He panicked as he searched your face, but you kept it blank. “Is that bad?”

“It…changes things.” You say, vaguely biting back your curse. You go to reach into your bag and then pause as he shifts uncomfortably. You’d been trained to do things in a precise order: find the cause, figure out the poison, start the treatment, then and only then worry about the pain.

Pain was good. Pain was a necessary part of life. Pain taught lessons nothing else could teach.

But you were far from the compound, and pain was not a tool of control. Not anymore. Especially not to a teenage boy who was just trying to help the town he lived in.

“Turn around.” Reopening the cap to your Sharpie, you make precise, crisp symbols. On his chest, closest to the wound without touching it, his arm, bicep, forearm, and finally the back of his hand. “Here,” You press an amber stone into his palm. You cup his hand and mumble the incantation, then force his palm closed around it.

The result is instantaneous. Liam’s body loses the tension as he slumps forward, a breath of relief. Followed by a long inhale like he had been underwater, desperately trying to resurface, and that was his first gulp of air. The symbols radiate with power, sucking the pain into the stone. “Just keep holding onto this, okay?” You squeeze his hand firmer around the amber stone. Liam nods drowsily, and you half wonder if you made the spell just a little too strong. You decided more was better when it came to pain management. You turn to Derek, whose dark eyes are perceptive, soaking in everything. Always seeing everything. “Kitchen?”

You follow him, bag in hand. As soon as you enter the room, you push a hand against his chest, backing him up and away from the stove. “Your favor, my kitchen. I’m taking over this space.” You say simply turning on two burners. He takes a few steps back, which is good because the way his body heats your skin is distracting, and you're on a time crunch.

“Thank you for coming. I know you were sleeping, and Mason had to wake you up.” His dark eyes roam over you again, and you are acutely aware that your tank top is low cut and your shorts are form-fitting and well short. Normally, it wouldn’t bother you, but his gaze was heavier and lingering.

“It’s fine, I don’t need much sleep. Pots?” Derek reached next to you in one of the bottom cabinets, handing you one. You stuck out your other hand, making a silent request for another one as well. He set it in your palm.

“Should we be worried?” You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer. It really depended on how fast you could make an antidote and how much saliva had actually gotten into Liam’s bloodstream. The saliva was more potent and faster to spread. You continue to throw things into the pot.

“Where is your spice cupboard?” You silently hoped that he had one. The loft looked like a bachelor pad through and through. You were pleasantly surprised when he opened a door and it was stocked full. “I’m impressed.”

“I like to cook.” You turn down the burner as the water starts to boil more aggressively, then head towards the cupboard, looking to see what he had that you could use. You weren’t prepared for a Haunt attack, and you might have to substitute a few things.

You look him over, “Italian?”

“Hispanic.” He corrected, crossing his arms over his chest. You keep pulling down bottles. Then glance back at him and nod.

“Yeah, I could see that.” Then turn back to the cupboard and give a frustrated sigh.

“You know, if you told me what you're looking for, I could help.” The appropriate response would have been a thank you and to politely ask for what was needed. Unfortunately, appropriate manners had been thrown out the window and into a teenage boy, poisoned with Haunt venom that was quickly spreading, and had been left festering for hours already.

“How can you have all of this bullshit but not have any parsley, thyme, or rosemary?” The cupboard door slams harder than you mean it to. The noise echoes through the room. You tap your finger against your crossed arm while biting on your nail, trying to come up with what the fuck you were going to use instead. You walk to your bag, pulling out your own stash and lining it up on the counter. Of course, it would be venom and not a simple blood gushing wound. You really needed to update your bag if this kind of thing was going to continue to happen.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You taste copper in your mouth, but don’t feel the sting of the skin breaking. You turn almost walking into Derek, and step back, cursing. “Damn it! What did I say about the kitch-” You pause when you see what’s in his hands. You look up from his hands to his face, where an eyebrow is raised at you. You don’t apologize, you don’t even smile. All you do is say, “Fine, you can stay. Make yourself useful and ground those up.” Then you're back to the other herbs, your mind races as you reformulate what to use.

Derek didn’t say anything; he just started cutting pieces of the live plants that had been sitting in the window on the other side of the loft to get more sun. Absently, you take your mortar and pestle and set it on the counter in front of Derek before your finger is tapping and the cuticle on your other thumb is raw and bloody with practically no nail left.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Within twenty minutes, you had bumped into Derek four times. Each sent a shock of electricity through you, burning the skin where he touched. He’d been helping you with every request–order–that you’d said. But the truth was- “I’m not used to having people with me when I brew.” Derek had a strange look on his face and opened his mouth to say something when you heard your name and looked up to see Mason.

“It’s Liam.”

You push the wooden spoon into Derek’s hand. “Keep stirring.” You call over your shoulder. Liam had been moved to the couch and was leaning heavily against the cushions behind him, hand tightly gripped around the amber stone. His face still relaxed and his eyes a bit dazed. Still clearly in no pain. Other than that, he wasn’t looking very good.

“Why is he getting worse? He seemed better.” You kneel in front of him. His cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving in short, ragged breaths, shaking, a cold sweat dripping down his face. You reach up, pressing your hand against his forehead, not surprised a bit when it’s burning hot.

“Someone grab a cold, wet cloth.” You hear footsteps, and you push Liam’s wet hair back and off his sweaty forehead. “I didn’t stop the progression; it was too late for that. I only numbed his pain. The venom must have hit his bloodstream.” You gently tug off the bandage that you had placed on him. The smell hit you first, and you had to hold back a gag. The skin was turning black, almost melting away. You leaned him forward and saw that the rash was spreading down his back at least another two inches, and you wondered if he was too far gone.

Tap. Tap. Tap

You felt someone come behind you, and a worried-looking Asian girl handed you the damp rag. You immediately press it to his forehead, and you can feel it warming under your touch. You turn his wrist, and the marks on his arm are fading. “I noticed that too. What happens when they completely fade?” You look up at Mason.

“Then the stone has hit its max, and it won’t be able to absorb any more of his pain. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. He isn’t feeling it now, but if the spell breaks- that pain will come shooting back and worse than before with the way this has progressed.” You can feel all the eyes on you. “Keep cooling him off. I’ll be back.”

You hip check Derek out of your way to look into the pot. “Is it supposed to be that thick?” Derek’s nose twitched, “And smell that awful.” The substance looked like tar, and the smell bothered even your unheightened sense of smell.

“Yes, that is exactly how it is supposed to look.” You turn off the burner, setting it on the counter. “Just needs to cool before we can apply it. It should only take a minute.”

“I thought he was going to have to drink it.” You made a face and felt your stomach roll.

“Even I’m not that cruel.” Derek’s eyes are heavy on you, his body just a little too close, the heat radiating off of him just a little too hot. His words are just a little too cutting.

“Cruel isn’t a word that I’d use for you.”

Your breathing hitches because if he only knew. If he knew what you had done, he wouldn’t be looking at you like that. He wouldn’t have come to your trailer two weeks ago, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have invited you into the house.

You make the mature choice of ignoring him.

You stick your finger in the mixture. It was still a little hot and uncomfortable, but not scalding. In this moment, more than good enough. You leave the kitchen with the pot without a word. The other girl, Malia, was pressing another rag to his face, and there was another behind his neck. You heard the collective groan as everyone caught the smell. Even Liam, when you kneeled in front of him, seemed a bit more aware, the smell pulling his attention. “Please tell me I don’t have to drink that.” The face he made was half grimace, half pathetic.

“You guys have spent way too much time together,” you say as you think of Derek’s earlier comment. “No, you don’t.” You scoop up the mixture with your fingers and start laying on a thick layer. Liam groans again, turning his face into his other shoulder.

“I take it back, I think I would rather drink it than smell that on me.” You can’t help but laugh. This kid had some sass left in him. A fighter- he might have half a chance after all. “How long do I have to keep it on?”

“For as long as it takes.”

You are surprised when none of the horde of teenagers leave. You’d told them it was a waiting game now. They had nodded, but none of them left the room sprawling out on the living room floor.

You assessed them, your brain trained to observe everything. You noted three couples in the way that they curled together. Scott and Kira. The loud one, Stiles, with Malia. A strange couple, but they looked happy in each other's embrace. And the two boys, Mason and…You hadn’t caught the other quiet one's name. Lydia sat in the middle of the couples… and one boy, arms crossed, posture stiff, stood off in the corner. Not quite part of the group, just there. An outsider in a close group of people. He didn’t attempt to get comfortable, his eyes flickering to the door from time to time like he was either fighting the urge to leave or trying to figure out the best way to escape without being noticed.

You feel Derek before you see him. “How bad is it?” You shrug noncommittally. “I saw your face when you came back to the kitchen. How worried should we really be?”

“I don’t know. He seems like a fighter- stubborn, strong- but if the venom really did hit his bloodstream and it’s been circling through his body.” You shift, “It will be more difficult.” You say simply.

He steps closer, and the energy in the room thickens, hot and demanding. You turn your head to look into his eyes. His lips press against yours in a tentative kiss. You gasp, and his hand comes to the back of your neck. The kiss goes deeper, his mouth hot. A heat that your body absorbs. And fuck if it wasn’t nice to be touched. You lean in farther and want to succumb-

Warning bells blare in your brain. A cold hollowness eating at your stomach, a voice telling you-screaming at you-

You yank away, abruptly taking a couple of steps back. A staggered breath. A refusal to meet his eyes.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I should check on Liam.”

#teen wolf #derek hale #derek hale x you #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 2 days ago

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Liam Dunbar

Dunbar Hustle

#teen wolf #liam dunbar #liam dunbar x you #liam dunbar x reader #liam dunbar imagine

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 2 days ago

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Liam Dunbar: The Dunbar Hustle

My first Liam story! This is obviously a little out of character for Liam. I was channeling when they introduced him and his cockyness of trying out for the lacrosse team. It may be a little off. This was purely self-indulgent, and it was based on one scene that wouldn’t leave me alone.

You were getting frustrated.

Liam had been hanging around you recently. It made sense since you sat next to him in economics. Coach was a fun teacher and allowed a lot of discussion between lectures- usually with a partner who was sitting beside you.

This wasn’t the problem.

Liam was friendly, funny, and charming. A sweet, caring guy with a cocky side, a country mile wide. He had started talking to you outside of class- in the hallways, at lunch, often choosing to sit beside you in another class you shared, even though it was nearly impossible to talk in that one.

This wasn’t the problem.

You like hanging out with Liam. Enjoyed his company, even when it was silent. You liked it when he would study with you- even if he did tap his pencil obsessively. You like working on the group project with him because even though he tends to cancel meet-ups, he always reschedules them and does his half of the work. You like having Liam as a friend.

This wasn’t the problem.

Liam Dunbar was a lacrosse player. One of the best players on the team and the youngest co-captain Beacon Hills has ever had. Liam plays hard and can be a bit rough, but he wins games, and nobody really gets hurt. Liam is a big player off the field. Liam is respectful to women, but he goes through them quickly.

This wasn’t the problem.

Liam Dunbar liked a challenge. He was all about the chase. Liam had started flirting with you a few weeks ago, and no longer just in a friendly kind of way. Liam had locked onto his next target, and it was you.

Not even this was the problem.

The fact that you had started to get attached to Liam, on the precipice of real, genuine feelings, practically preening under his attention.

That was a big fucking problem.

You had been trying to avoid him for the last week with not such great results. It didn’t matter how much you altered your routine, he always seemed to find you. Even now, as you tried to leave the school after staying late to make up three separate midterms because you had missed class. You want to keep walking even as he calls your name. You know it won’t do any good; he will catch up with you in a few strides.

So, you turn to see what he wants. He has a big smile on his face, hair still wet from his shower after practice, and a musky smell of his body wash hits your nose. His face drops a little when he notices your frown. “What’s wrong?”

“You have to stop,” His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Stop what?”

“The Dunbar Hustle.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” He stands there staring at you. Of course, he didn’t. But the girls did, giggled about it when it was their turn. The song and dance of Liam's chase.

“It means I need you to stop flirting with me.” He blinks owlishly at you.

“I thought you liked my flirting?” Liam knew you liked his flirting. He could smell your chemosignals, and nothing about them ever gave the impression of you wanting him to stop.

“I do,” You admit without thinking. “I like you.”

“Then why do you-?” Now he looked really confused. You caught him off deciding to just rip this off like a Band-Aid.

“Because you don’t like me.” He shifted his posture, getting straighter. Ready to argue. “Big Lacrosse Captain doesn’t stick to one girl. Always ready for the next challenge. You need that challenge; you thrive on it. The high of winning, like you do with lacrosse. You don’t lose on the field, and you don’t lose with the girls. You set your eyes on someone, and you don’t stop until they say yes. Then you move on. Which is fine,” You shake your head, trying to center yourself, even as it hurts to hear the words that have been ringing through your head out loud, “But I thought we were friends. And you,” You bite your lip and finally say, “You’re Dunbar Hustling me.” The words burn your throat, coming out bitter.

“It’s not like that. We are friends.” You scoff as you finally make eye contact with him. His jaw is tight, and he has a storm brewing behind his blue eyes. You just stared at him, your face clearly calling bullshit. “I mean, yeah, I have. But I never promised any of them anything. We’d hook up and have a good time. There were never any hard feelings when it was over-everyone knew that.” You nod at him sardonically as if to say ‘exactly’. Liam realized his mistake too late when you said,

“Should I know that too?” He shifted, but his blue eyes still blazed into yours. “You know what, maybe we should just hook up then.” You weren’t sure where the idea had come from, but you quickly committed to it. “Yeah, let's do that. Once the thrill of the chase is over, we can both move on with our lives.” You closed the distance, crashing your lips to his.

That is when you realized why you had thrown out the idea so easily. You wanted Liam, of course you did. Because God dammit, The Dunbar Hustle worked. It made you feel special, wanted, desirable. If you couldn’t keep him, you might as well have him for the night.

On your terms.

He kissed you back, but only for a second before breaking it. Liam could smell your want for him, but he could also smell the bitter scent of sadness and frustration lingering from before. “You think that’s what I want? To just have you for a night?”

“Two then?” Liam knew the look on your face, it screamed ‘prove me right’. This isn’t how Liam saw this exchange going. He thought he had made his intentions clear, but looking back on his last two years… “Three, four? Tell me, Liam, how long does the chase last?”

Liam shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, to remedy this situation. He was distracted from his thoughts when you dropped your bag and pulled your shirt over your head. He couldn’t help but look. Not when it was right in front of him.“How long, Liam? I know you want me. I’m offering myself to you-Take it.” He pulled his eyes back to your face. The challenge on your face is purposeful-making a point. You were undeniably gorgeous, and he did want you. But…

“Not like this.” His voice was thick, and your facade faltered. Just for a second, but Liam saw it.

“You sure? There is no guarantee that you’ll get another chance. You can have me right now. You sure you want to risk it?” You meant it, he knew you did. There was a real and strong possibility that you wouldn’t let him shoot his shot again. Liam stepped forward, barely brushing against you, cupping your cheek, decision made.

“I don’t give a fuck about the risk.” He swipes his thumb over your cheek, and you shiver. “I want you around. I want to take you on dates. Be the guy who makes you smile and laugh. The one you can lean on and trust to support you.” Liam backs up enough to bend down and grab your shirt off the floor, absently flipping it right side out. “And yeah, I want you in that way too.” Liam grabbed your hand, pressing your shirt back into it. “But not until it's real. So, if walking away means losing my chance? Then, yeah, I’ll risk it.”

You look down at your shirt, and then back at him, words slow. “So you’re going to just…Just walk away?”

“If that’s what it's going to take.” You want to believe him. God, you do. But you knew how this story played out. It was a show-a facade. He was saying all this so you would break. You would believe him, and he would get what he wanted right now anyway.

You called his bluff.

“Last chance.” Liam stepped closer to you. His heat radiates from him, his smell intoxicating. His fingers softly trail up your arms, leaning just far enough forward that your foreheads brush. “Yeah, last chance.” He cupped your cheeks, and you could feel the heat of his lips coming towards you, along with the bitterness of being right. Then he tilted your face down, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “Walk away.”

Then he stepped back and walked away.

Shoulders straight, head held high. He didn’t stop. He didn’t turn back. Because the only way he knew how to show you that you weren’t a challenge, that he wasn’t looking for adrenaline from a chase, was to stop. To forfeit.

At least for now.

Your back hit the locker behind you, heart pounding in your chest. Still flushed from the limited contact. Emotions rolling over you that you couldn’t name. “He walked away,” You whisper to yourself, and a genuine smile paints your lips even as you struggle to know what it all means.

Liam was down the hall around the corner listening to your heartbeat race, and so many chemosignals hit his nose that he could not distinguish one from the others. He had no idea what you were feeling, what you were thinking.

“Yeah,” He whispered to himself, “I did.” His hands clench into fists, his knuckles going white. What you really wanted was for him to stay, not have sex, but prove that he would. He shook his head as he headed to the door. “And now I have to live with it.”

#teen wolf #liam dunbar #liam dunbar x reader #liam dunbar x you #liam dunbar imagine

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 8 days ago

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one of the most annoying feelings in ADHD is the can't-get-started-with-anything feeling. like, your ADHD is screaming you have to do something. you can't just rest, resting isn't a thing. even if you are resting, it's by doing something.

but nothing works. you try to watch something, it's not right. you can't. read? can't read right now play? nah none of these games seem fun make something? ehh, you're not feeling any of these projects right now social media? it's boring or worse right now, so... find something else it's like you're not moving but it's because you're too tense to do anything, just vibrating in place

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 8 days ago

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you know what i love? when im reading a fic and it is clearly so self indulgent for the writer. like honey these plot threads barely make sense but you are having so much fun and i am just along for the ride

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 9 days ago

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Seriously, don't do this. It is so insulting. This is why authors stop posting. If you do this you are part of the problem.

Hi,

It’s your friendly neighbor fanfic author here. In the light of this apparent new trend of people feeding unfinished fics to AI to get an “ending,” and some people even talking about “blanket permissions,” let me just say this:

I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE TO FEED MY FICS TO AI. DUDE, THAT IS ABOUT THE LEAST RESPECTFUL THING YOU CAN DO. IF YOU DO IT, SHALL YOU BE EXCOMMUNICATED FROM YOUR FANDOM AND WALK ON LEGOS BAREFOOT TILL THE END OF DAYS.

That is my anti-permission.

Thank you for your attention.

#writer stuff

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 10 days ago

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 10 days ago

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Teen Wolf season 5

Okay, this is just a little reaction/ rant now that I'm on the last episode of season 5. These are all MY opinions. I respect yours. You do not have to agree with me.

First off, how the hell do they expect me to believe that anyone could turn Scott and Stiles against each other for even a minute? Like, don't get me wrong, I love Theo and his plotline, but I just don't believe it.

Second, they made this HUGE deal about Stiles killing Donavon, even though it was clearly self-defense. Even Stiles himself. And I would like to remind everyone that Stiles has shed the MOST blood in the entire pack. When he was Void, his body count was high.

And you are telling me that Scott will forgive him for that, but not ask ANY questions when Stiles admits to killing someone, and just assumes he is guilty?

And Stile's reaction was insane. Stiles has killed people before, NOT in self-defense. Not to be a bitch but he kind of should have come to terms with it. He has said, "I remember everything I did. I remember liking it." He had to deal with guilt before I felt like he would be able to compartmentalize better.

Then What. The. Actual. Fuck was that end to Stiles and Malia's relationship? He just says, "It matters to me," and leaves the car, and that's it? I'm a hardcore Stalia shipper, so I know I'm biased and would have been pissed off anyway, but seriously-what?

Are you really telling me that Stiles "broke up with" (we never even see it on screen) Malia for not judging him, when he literally got with her because she didn't judge him at Echien House? That was the start of their entire relationship, which had shown no problems before that. None. That makes so much sense. NOT.

And you are telling me that they went from sharing a bed pretty much every night to just being done? Stiles had flashbacks about he couldn't sleep without her the season before. Malia had no real shown fall out? Now I know they want Malia to be emotionally stunted but that is crazy. And Stiles not wanting her around, and being pissed when she is included in pack stuff? Uncalled for.

And he is so busy worrying about Lydia that he doesn't bat an eyelash at knowing Malia's mom is trying to kill her? What happened to "I'd never leave you behind?" and "Will she keep begging" "She might." "I can work with that" No, absolutely not. And his comment to Scott about Malia being the one that would kill the most people? You fucking kidding? She killed two people, her family, and the guilt was so bad she stayed in werecoyte form for 8 years.

Now l don't like that Stydia ship at all. I don't understand it. But I think we can all agree that this setup to get them together is painful and not well written. She suddenly cares about him because he rescued her? Like he hasn't done that a million times before. And Scott's one random comment about how Stiles' feelings have changed from obsessive to something better? Yeah, okay.

Moving on from that because that isn't all this is suppose to be about.

Kira and Malia's friendship is amazing and underrated, and under underutilized. Also fuck whoever was being a racist hoe and made her actress leave the show because she wasn't getting paid fairly.

Parish and Lydia's relationship was fucking weird. They need to either decide to put them together as a couple or not. If they decided to they needed to make it a lot less creepy.

My last note is- Hayden did absolutely nothing the entire season. I really wanted to like her and was so excited for Liam to have a love interest, but she was...lackluster and boring.

She hated Liam-then she didn't.

She didn't believe Liam-then she did.

She was used as bait.

She died-then lived.

She was mad at Liam for not being able to save her (seriously?)

She had a fear of dying.

She wanted to stay in Theo's pack- she wanted to be in Scott's.

She slept with Liam.

Was that seriously her entire character? Her entire plot line? God, Tracey would have been a better love interest (Not that I think they should have- at all), but at least her character was a little fleshed out.

My last thing. When Hayden took Liam's pain with that kiss? What was that? His whole torso was ripped to shreds, and she didn't even wince at the pain? She must be the most powerful of all, then, because EVERYONE shows that they feel pain when they take it away. I've never seen that before.

#teen wolf #teen wolf season 5 #season 5 #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #malia tate #kira yukimura #liam dunbar #theo raeken #hayden romero #lydia martin #stalia #stydia

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 11 days ago

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Fanfic Author Appreciation Day

Hi friends 🥰 August 21 is Fanfic Author Appreciation Day, and I want to use it as an excuse to shout out some fantastic writers who have inspired me through their stories.

@plaidbooks - I have bled Julie's blog dry, reading every fic and every scrap of a headcanon because she is THAT GOOD at her craft. Whether it's smut or angst or floof, she can do it all. Her fics have seen me through some of my toughest days and I hope she knows how much her writing means to so many people.

Reading recs:

100% Smitten

There For You

I Needed You <- breaks my heart every time then glues it back together

@adarafaelbarba - Endlessly creative, so so talented. I love how she can pack such a punch with concise, little fics. There is not a superfluous word to be found, every word is meant to be there. She also has the juiciest headcanons. BTW have you seen her @letters2fiction blog where she answers letters as different characters?!

Reading recs:

First Fight (Sonnyverse)

Touch starved Barba

Thigh riding HCs <- soooo spicy

@pascalispretty - her work is so polished, every story feels like it's been written with the utmost love and care. And her environment building is exquisite. Reigning Queen of Smut™, no one does it quite like her. Also, she is multi-talented - writer, crocheter, bookbinder, and on and on. Not to mention a super sweet human, always comes to mind when I see a Pedro Pascal on my feed 😉

Reading recs:

All Wound Up

the feeling is mutual

You're My Dream Girl <- reading this is my Christmas tradition

@escapingrealtiylovinginsanity - amazing writer, even more amazing human. Has a big brain and a bigger heart and is going to do INCREDIBLE things in life. She has SUCH an amazing vocabulary. I think while reading one of her most recent fics I said "your words have a nice flavor" 😆 She has so so kindly proof read every one of my stories, giving me the most insightful feedback that's helped me improve my writing one word at a time. I am very blessed to be able to call her my friend 💙

Reading recs:

Wolfsbane

Neck Kisses <- one of the most delightful pieces of smut you'll ever read

Reliving His Detective Days

@misscharlielulu - I know she wouldn't consider herself an author, but my first story would NEVER have happened without her. We spent DAYS going back and forth on the plot for the Five Stages of Grief (having each chapter be inspired by the stages of grief was 100% her idea). That is one of my most cherished memories and I'm literally tearing up remembering it because it meant so much to me, and how much her friendship means to me ❤️ Her creativity is inspiring, her tags are always son point, and her love for Sidney Crosby is incomparable 😂

Reading recs:

Pink Dress

First date HCs

Five Stages of Grief <- this story was a complete collaboration with Mel. If there's a plot beat that speaks to you, it was her idea.

#fic recs #author appreciation

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 12 days ago

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may all your favorite fanfic writers never lose their hyperfixation and love for your blorbos so they keep writing fanfics about your blorbos forever

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 13 days ago

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This is dedicated to @polkadotpenguin16! Thank you so much for your support and for prereading my mass of fics the last two weeks! I hope this can satisfy some of the Carisi withdrawal. <3

Sonny Carisi: Chef’s In NSFW!

The last thing that you expected when you walked out of the bathroom after a long, hot shower was to be hit in the face with the smell of sauce. Garlic, onions, pepper, and tomatoes. You inhaled deeply and followed your nose to the kitchen. You stop and stare at the sight in front of you.

Sonny was in your kitchen.

Sonny was in your kitchen wearing a Henley and gray sweatpants.

Sonny was in your kitchen, wearing a Henley and gray sweatpants, cooking.

Was it possible to be turned on by cooking? Because you were. Undeniably turned on. Maybe hunger and lust weren’t so different after all. And to think that you had been hesitant to give Sonny a key to your apartment. That it might be too soon. That it might be too much to have him more in your space.

Fuck that. Literally.

You walk up to the island, leaning on the counter, ogling him unabashedly. Gone was Detective Carisi and in his place was domestic Sonny. You lick your lips. His hair was messy, sleeves pushed up past his forearms, and he was barefoot.

He caught sight of you and turned to fully, “Hey, I need another pan. Ya got another pan?” You tried to hold back your laugh looking at the overcrowded stove.

“Baby, you’re out of burners.” He looked at the stove and then back at you. You walk around the island pressing a gentle hand to his chest. He steps out of your way while you lean down to pull another pan from the bottom cabinet. You offer it to him and he takes it. You watch as he goes about moving pans on the stove combining things to make space for the newest one. You step behind him, pressing your breasts against his chest one hand sliding up from his stomach to his chest. Stepping on your tippie toes to whisper in his ear, “You know if you wanted to get in my pants you could have just asked.”

He freezes for a second before looking over his shoulder at you. You saw something flash in his blue eyes as he looked back at the stove. He turned down the burners. Then in one smooth move, he turned, picking you up and setting you on the island. You gasped, hands on his shoulders as he stepped between your legs. His hand rubbed your core over your cotton shorts. “What are you doing?”

“I thought I’d have a snack.” His hand slips under the fabric, and two long fingers find your entrance. You moan, and he smirks in satisfaction. “And it’s already hot and wet.” You lift your hips to help him take off your shorts. Then he is on his knees, licking your dripping folds. You rock against his face, and he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter, your thighs brushing against his stubble.

“Fuck,” Two fingers enter you and start to pump and curl in rhythm with his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at his locks. Your thighs start to shake and tighten around his head.”Sonny,” His thumb rubs your clit in slow circles, and you bucking into him until he quickens more. Your orgasm rolls over you in waves, and he works you through it.

You watch panting as he slowly dislodges himself from between your legs, but not before placing one more kiss on your clit, making you jump. Then he smiles like he didn’t just get you off, his face still wet with your juices. “Dinner is almost done.” He gives you a chaste kiss, and you can taste yourself on his lips. Sonny turns back to the stove, returning the burners to their previous temperature.

#law and order special victims unit #svu #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine

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