ryannasbackagain-blog - Tumblr blog

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

The nickname rolls off her back without even a wine. Jerk. Bitch. Stupid. They were all nicknames she'd heard before; ones that used to be soaked in bitterness, but were now exchanged between her best friend and herself like affectionate titles. To them, they were. You could call anyone the generic "babe," or "love," but it took real love--true love--to be able to call them things others wouldn't necessarily find great. Isn't that what friendship was all about, anyways? Seeing everything. The great, the not so great, the moments you wish even both of you could forget...and trust her, Ryanna and Stiles had been through quite a lot of those moments. It seemed like yesterday an intervention was being held in her bedroom. The weeks Stiles and Derek had spent holed up with Ryanna in that house (they'd tried on countless occasions to get her to go outside, but she hadn't wanted to during that time), being there for her in the way her parent's couldn't. Stef and Mike had been so scared. Knowing how much pain she'd put them through was never going to leave Ryanna...ever. She could pay them back for all their kindness...it'd be the last thing she'd ever do. And the sheriff and Stiles, of course. God only knows how hard it was to raise one kid; the sheriff hadn't exactly signed up for another...but he had accepted her with open arms, giving her something she never could quite remember having. A family. "Bitch." She coos back with a smile, pressing a small kiss to the side of the scrawny boy's head and snuggling into his side.

She listened to his worries without batting an eyelash. Of course Lima would hold this amount of drama, even with the lack of people. The more and more time she spent here, the more she realized the empty houses. The for sale signs. The old friends she had once had moving on; either to college, or just hightailing it the hell out of there. Ryanna couldn't exactly blame them. Had that not been what she did? "Fall in love" and escape the place she'd called home? It's funny when that word starts to resemble a damn graveyard. She tried not to think about it while zoning back into the conversation, lifting her head up as if just waking; eyes wide, alert, falsely okay with this topic. "Yeah, yeah, understandable. I...I wish I could help." Her hand reached to tug through her hair, bringing the newly dyed brunette locks back from her face.

"Like you said, though. You'll figure it out. You're Stiles Stilinski. I believe in you. Faith, trust, and pixie dust; all that shit." She nudged his side before laughing out a breath, settling for a content smile afterwards. "You're not made of glass, no, but you're 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, with sarcasm as your only defense. I've broken more than you." The way she smiled was almost as if she were proud of it; proud of breaking hearts, proud of destroying lives like she'd done back when she hadn't had this place to call hers. That smile, though...that smile was hollow, proving it to be anything but true, if you were to look close enough.

No one ever did, really.

Snapping back into it, the brunette shook her head, leaning back against the arm of the couch comfortably. "I'm not telling you his name...but she? She was perfect. Name's Anna. All Harvard law and pearly white teeth. Funny, how she was so close to having my name, but I was nowhere close to having what she had." Ryanna snorted, turning her head to the side. "Not that it matters. I mean, I've got you. Pearly white teeth be damned."

back again • ryanna and stiles

"Jerk," Stiles huffs indignantly when she beats him to it, though he leans into her when she swings her legs onto his lap. Time has passed, and while things are not exactly how they were when she left, they’re not much different either; this is still so easy, so comfortable — a welcome departure from the way life has been lately. She steals the remote, but Stiles doesn’t put up a fight like he might have pretended to in the old days — though he’s sure that’ll last for about two days before they start wrestling again. Ryanna wins every time, but it’s still fun; Scott doesn’t wrestle with him anymore because he’s busy with Erica and Alpha shit, and because Derek probably wouldn’t touch him if he came around stinking of Scott (and with Derek, they do a different type of wrestling). Isaac doesn’t, because when they hang out, they mostly eat or talk — they just don’t. Everyone else, Stiles would not even remotely consider wrestling because they would no doubt kick his ass to all the continents and back.

"Yeah, sounds like good old Rory and Seamus. And Jacen’s, well, yeah. Mercedes —" Stiles pauses where he had begun to absently massage Ryanna’s calf. "I don’t know what to do to help her. I talked to Derek’s therapist, Morrell, while I was up in New York — she’s a druid, like Deaton, but neither of them would give me any clue, and I don’t know much of anything about anyone other than werewolves and hunters, you know? Deaton wasn’t even at his clinic when I went — he had someone at the desk telling people he went out of town. She called me up, and now I’m just sitting here, not doing anything to help her, because I don’t have any answers." He exhales, then winces inwardly when he realizes how much he’s said in so little time. That’s probably way more than she needed to know, especially after just getting back — he doesn’t want to drive her away, after all.

"But look, don’t worry about that, I’ll figure it out. And don’t worry about hurting us — we Stilinskis’ aren’t made of glass, you know. We love you too." He matches her grin, pinching her leg playfully before sitting back and waiting for Ryanna to elaborate — because she sure as hell isn’t getting away with a one word explanation. Maybe his dad would take that, but not Stiles. She seems to sense that though, and after she finishes, Stiles just feels… empty, almost. Angry. She always gets the short end of the stick from what he’s seen, and while he doubts she ever just lies down and takes anything, she seems resigned to it now. As her friend, he’s allowed to be pissed for her. "You didn’t give me a name, you know. I need a name if I’m going to kick this guy’s ass. No girlfriend is better than you."

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Tyler suggested it? That's why it doesn't make sense.

How do I do an Un-Scott thing? || Open

It was something, Tyler suggested. That I do an un-Scott thing. 

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Smooth. Don't act like you didn't miss me, Luce.

I get to see myself every time I look in the mirror, though. It’s good to see you, too, though, I guess.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

I don't even know what that means either, if it helps.

How do I do an Un-Scott thing? || Open

I don’t even know what that means.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Especially when it means seeing your favorite werewolf.

It feels like I’ve been doing nothing but working lately. Having free time is kinda weird now.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Stiles was good, but Ryanna was better. She knew he was joking as soon as the words had escaped his lips. A giant hamster? Yeah, right. Lima was crazy, but it wasn't that kind of crazy. Still, her face betrayed no sign of knowing he was joking, eyebrows drawn together as she slowly turned her head around, widened her eyes...and used her werewolf speed to beat Stiles to the couch. Grinning up at him from her position, the girl raised her eyebrows. "One giant hamster, defeated." With a roll of her hand and a small bow, her no longer boot clad feet propped up onto Stiles's lap, happily taking the remote from his grasp. This was just how it used to be. Ryanna, feet propped up; Stiles, nudging her side; the two of them overpowering the sheriff's remote control. This was how you'd find the two on a normal day, back when she hadn't left and when things were absolutely terrible, but could be forgotten over a baseball game on TV. She missed those days. Now, they just looked like distant memories for someone else's life. And that was not the life Ryanna wanted to live.

"A lot of people seemed to be in shock. Rory welcomed me back with open arms; so did Seamus. Uh, Jacen seemed okay, I guess, and Mercedes, like, possessed, so she was just off. You're by far the most welcoming." She flashed him her shit eating grin. "But, no, I get it. I just hate that I've hurt you guys. You know you're the only family I've ever really had. I love you, and your dad. I just don't want to keep doing this shit." She ran a hand through her hair, leaning into Stiles' hug.

Where the hell had she been? "...around." That was all she was going to say on the matter, but Ryanna thought Stiles deserved more. "I, uh, actually found an old friend. Old hookup, I guess. He lived out in Washington and told me that if I needed a place...I've got one. So, I chilled there for a bit. Slept out on his couch for a few months. Worked as a barista at some coffee shop, got some well needed therapy, and was actually kind of falling for the guy I was living with...but he got a girlfriend who wasn't so happy with me living there, and he chose her over me. So...here I am." She shrugged, forcing a weak smile. "Heartbroken, and just plain broke. My life story."

back again • ryanna and stiles

"Don’t look now, but there’s a giant hamster behind you," Stiles says slowly, his voice low so as to match her volume, and serious, betraying no sign that he’s joking. He waits another beat, before breaking out into a shit eating grin, plopping down onto the couch and tugging her down beside him. He tosses Ryanna the remote, playfully nudging her in the side with his elbow — like old times. Stiles hadn’t realized how much he’d missed any ‘old times’ at all until now; Scott hasn’t been around much these days, or at least, not where Stiles has been able to see him, and neither has Erica. In fact, Isaac and Danny are the only two in Lima he’s kept in constant contact with — Mercedes, too, but for all that he’s tried to track her down with this curse business, he hasn’t been able to. He feels a little like a traitor for letting himself have this moment with Ryanna, but if he doesn’t let himself now, then he never will.

"Yeah, yeah — shut up," Stiles scrunches up his nose at her, making a face. "Or I’ll revoke your remote privileges. Anyway, you know he won’t yell at you for at least another three days. He’s probably still in shock. Good thing you’re here for a week though. By the end of it, you’ll have gotten your ass chewed out and you’ll have gotten the Stilinski cold shoulder. It sucks, but hey. You’re his favorite, so I wouldn’t worry." He throws an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in another half hug — so sue him, he doesn’t want to let her go now that she’s actually here. It feels good and complete having her home, even if everyone else seems to be missing.

"Now, before we melt our brains with bad movies — you, me, catch up, now. Where the hell have you been?"

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Ryanna knew that that was not the best the sheriff could muster up. She's personally seen him kick Stiles' ass verbally, and knew that he was going easy on her. They were both still afraid of driving Ryanna away. Internally, she rolled her eyes, but once again felt her stomach sank to her feet. Hurting Stiles and his father was not her intentions. That was never her intentions. She'd spend every last breath protecting these people. Hurting them hurt her in return. She loved these people more than she loved herself, most days.

Staring up at the sheriff--tall and hovering over her--the girl managed a small smile and a nod. Good enough for her, she supposed. "Thank you." She mouthed, resisting the urge to just tackle the man once more in a hug. God only knows how he deserved it. It had to be hard enough raising Stiles, but to practically adopt yet another rebellious and unpredictable teen into your life...the sheriff did not deserve that. He didn't deserve the heartache that came with accepting the girl into your life. That used to predominantly be Ryanna's mindset, AKA: the cause for the reason she ran so much. Besides Washington, Lima was the only place she'd really settled down in, meaning that that mindset had dimmed, even if only for a little bit.

Turning back to Stiles, Ryanna actually rolled her eyes this time, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling him in for another hug. "You make it all worth it, bub." She admitted affectionately, pressing a small kiss to the side of his head and smiling. She may still be a sarcastic little shit, but she did love Stiles. That would just never change. "And I appreciate it, daddio. They need to get a handle on things."

The way he was looking at her meant that he was thinking. Ryanna could tell. So, she stared and thought back, wondering how just a few months could make such a change. He didn't look different physically, so much, but...aura-ly? Did that make sense? That Stiles' aura was different? He just felt...older. Happier. Calmer. Maybe things in Lima had changed after all. "What're you looking at?" She asked softly.

Ryanna winced. "Ooh, not even his kid and I'm his favorite. How does that feel? And please, I know; that's not what I wanted. I may just eat his bacon so he'd explode on me."

back again • ryanna and stiles

Stiles can’t exactly say he’s surprised when Ryanna calls them out for trying as hard as they are not to chase her right out the door again. It’s a delicate situation though — but then again, he guesses Ryanna isn’t really all that delicate. She can more than handle herself, and she’s proved it time and again, and maybe that’s why they’re afraid to step out of line here. If she leaves another time — well, Stiles isn’t sure what he’ll do, but his dad will drink, he’s sure. His dad knows it too, and it’s a little too much like losing his mom: no goodbyes, just traces of memories left behind. They have to do something differently this time around though, and Stiles is ready to step up when his dad cuts in first, setting Ryanna’s bags down by the staircase.

"First of all — language," His dad starts — but no, he’s not Stiles’ dad right now, he’s the sheriff. He has his arms crossed, and he’s standing tall so as to tower over Ryanna, his expression the same one that Stiles has been on the receiving end of too many times to count and subsequently equates with ‘oh shit, I’m in deep shit.’ "You’d better believe that I’m upset. I’m angry. I’m nervous that one wrong move will send you right back out there again, away from us — and yeah, kiddo, I know life’s tough around here. Lima’s not an easy place to call home — but it’s your home, because we’re here. Whether you’re here or you’re somewhere else, you’re going to lose people, so if that’s what you’re scared of, stay. Even if it’s not, stay. Either way, I’m putting you on lockdown and you’re not going anywhere. At least here, you have us, and I think family’s a good enough reason for anybody to stick around, even in a place like this. It’s why I’m still here." While the sheriff isn’t exactly yelling, he sounds stern; he’s still reluctant to go all out on her, but give it time and he just might, Stiles thinks.

"To add to that —" Stiles says, squeezing Ryanna’s hand where it’s found his, "— you also get full reign over the TV, and you can eat whatever’s in the fridge. There’s free WiFi, too, so. This place isn’t totally without its perks, right?" He grins in his attempt to lighten the mood. The sheriff rolls his eyes, albeit fondly, before picking Ryanna’s things back up and turning to take them upstairs. He ruffles her hair before he goes though. "Good to have you back. I’ll talk to Mike and Stef about the yelling — don’t say I didn’t warn you." He teases, before leaving Stiles and Ryanna on their own.

For a moment there’s only silence as Stiles stands there, trying to fathom how suddenly this had all happened; Ryanna returning, Derek going through therapy, him and his dad getting along better than ever (he thinks he’s a little afraid of what life will be like without his dad, because even when he lived in town with Derek, he still saw him every other day — but when he goes to New York, he won’t be able to, so he thinks that’s why they’re getting along so great). He glances at Ryanna, trying to gauge how real this all is, or if it’s all only just a dream — but no, she looks different. She’s got more of an edge to her than she did before, though that’s not to say she hadn’t had one back then either. There’s just something else to her, something that reassures him that he couldn’t possibly dream this up.

"As always, you’re his favorite," Stiles sighs, teasingly. "He totally wasn’t even harsh on you at all. He barely even yelled. Just don’t eat his bacon or he’ll eat you. Or breath fire. You’ll really get it then."

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Vampire shmampire.

Look Who's Back...

Considering I am a vampire, yep.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Would it now?

Look Who's Back...

Now that would be a very bad idea.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

I suppose.

Oh. Well, better late than never, right?

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Bite me.

Look Who's Back...

I will take that as a yes.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

He certainly does.

I'm so excited for today. || Open

-laughs- He has that kind of personality. I love him for it. 

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't surprised to be engulfed into a hug by the sheriff first. Especially one like this. In their time together, Ryanna and him had actually gotten quite close. She hadn't been lying when she'd said he was a father to her. Mike was a great dad--the best Ryanna could remember having--but Mr. Stilinski...he was her family, too. Stiles was her family. And so to actually know she'd been missed like this--enough to where he was the one delivering the bear hug to her, opposed to Stiles...it was hard for Ryanna to handle. She managed, though; not without sinking into the hug and having to battle with the tears forming in her eyes. It didn't take a lot for Ryanna to just melt into the sherrif, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso and letting her head rest on his shoulder. "Yeah, pop; I've missed you too." It wouldn't be Ryanna if she didn't have a sarcastic quip in there somewhere...but it was muffled by his shirt. When they pulled away, they stared at each other for a minute; Ryanna, with tears in her eyes, and the sheriff, with ones of his own bound to form. Stiles swallowing his own could be heard, and her stomach sank. God, this is the worst part about leaving: coming back. Upset when you leave, upset when you're here...could tears ever be avoided?

"I'm glad we're on the same page, twitchy--woah." Without warning, Stiles had taken his father's place, wrapped around Ryanna tightly. This hug was different from the one with his father; tighter, more person. How could it not be? Stiles was her best friend. Her confidant. The boy who knew Ryanna better than she knew herself, most days. They didn't have years upon years of closeness, but the year she had been here had definitely been a good one. They'd grown close, and that was part of the reason she'd come back. She hadn't been aware that he'd be the only one here, however. Shaking her head, the brunette just wrapped her arms around Stiles's neck, letting the tears fall this time, although they combined with her laughter as she was literally swept off her feet. Way for Stiles to make this such a cliche moment.

(Ryanna loved it.)

But she could feel the eggshells they were walking on around her. The feeling sucked. They were afraid of showing that they'd been sad at her departure, nervous about her arrival, or whatever else they were feeling about her being here. That's not what Ryanna wanted. When the sheriff returns with a tentative smile, she frowns. "...don't do that. I'm a big girl, okay? Be upset. Be nervous. Be angry at me, and let me know. I've been dying for one of you two to yell at me." She turned towards the sheriff after letting go of Stiles (even though one of her hands had found his, for comfort), her eyes pleading. "I can't keep pulling this shit. If I don't learn they're consequences to what I do--that leaving hurts people--then I'm just going to keep doing it. So...please. Yell at me. Be a dad. Mike and Stef are too scared that yelling will drive me off, but it won't. It'll help."

Of course she got power over the remote. Being the female in a all male home had it's perks. "Why, thank you." Her fake British accent caused her to laugh, subconciously handing the bag to the sheriff and leaning into his hug. "Thank you."

back again • ryanna and stiles

Both Stiles and the sheriff startle when the door swings open to reveal the girl herself, her familiar old smirk in place on her lips as she makes a quip about the remote in question. Before Stiles can leap up and engulf Ryanna in the largest bear hug known to man (a feat considering he’s not much larger than her, really), his dad is on his feet and pulling her into a tight hug at having been referred to as her father — and it’s not entirely unfounded. Though it’s true that she has Mike, the sheriff had always been keen to remind her that he would be there for her in the same way. A grin breaks out across Stiles’ face, and though it wobbles slightly with emotion, he stays strong and waits his turn at a hug. If his dad had his way though, he’s sure he’d probably lock Ryanna in a mountain ash tower and refuse to let her leave.

"You are an angel, Ryanna Chadwick, descended down from the heavens and sent to us mere mortals so we may worship you in all your — angelness," Stiles teases when his dad finally breaks away, manfully swallowing his tears (who can blame him? She’d been gone for months with no indication she was planning to come back, and further, no indication she was even alive through all that time). Stiles seizes the opportunity to sweep in and squeeze her tightly, picking her up off the floor just enough that he can spin her around before setting her down again.

"See, Dad? Even she gets it, c’mon," He calls to his dad, who has since retreated to the kitchen — probably to get her some food, or to wipe his face so that when he comes back, he doesn’t make her feel as though it’s her fault. It’s not — Stiles gets it; Lima is shit. It sucks. It’s brought her nothing but pain and loss and grief — even his mate has gone, and if he can’t fault Derek for leaving, he can’t very well do the same to Ryanna. Stiles suspects his dad understands that just as well. Stiles offers him a brief smile when he reenters with a tentative smile, as though he’s not sure what to believe — but he’ll take whatever this is, anyway.

"Alright, alright — she gets dominion over the remote. But you don’t get to sway her," His dad acquiesces, setting down a box of leftover pizza and moving to take Ryanna’s bag from her. "Welcome home," he says, squeezing her shoulders in a quick hug once more.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Oh, shut up.

[Delivered to Ryanna with a note]

They who?

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

I've gotta go, Seamus. It was nice to see you.

Look Who's Back...

I think so, don’t you?

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

What can I say? Talk to him so much, he begins to rub off on me.

I'm so excited for today. || Open

That I worry? Kinda sounds like something Tyler would say.

[ryannasbackagain-blog]

Ryanna could honestly tell you that she didn't know what it was about Lima that kept pulling her in. In hindsight, everything about the place should've kept her far, far away. This is where she had died, for God's sake. You don't just happily live in a town after that. That had been part of the reason she'd skipped out, actually, but still: here she was, for the umpteenth time, actually thinking that she could find contentment in this place. Ryanna was a lot of things, but stupid? Stupid was not one of them. Yet, again, here she was. Back in a town that was about as safe as a lion pit. Part of her wish she knew why; why this town was almost impossible to escape from. Other's were lucky, like Lydia and Jackson. They had someone to stay away with. Someone that reminded them of this place, but the good parts. Not the murders and the fear and the crying. Ryanna had no one. Aubrey's dead, Ace is God only knows where, and both of her former Alpha's are gone. So many people in her life had left her...but she was also the one doing the leaving.

It's not as if it didn't pain her to keep doing this to them. Stiles, Derek, Rory...they were her family. Stef and Mike, Brandon, the twins...they were her family. Family didn't leave family. That has to be the reason she keeps coming back. There's no way she could stay away from the only people she loves.

Or their dads. Papa Stilinski was the closest thing (other than Mike) that she had to a father.

She paused right out the door, ears picking up on the conversation inside. She could hear the hesitation in Stiles voice, practically see Mr. Stilinski's hesitant smile. It made her stomach churn. Why should these people believe that her being back actually meant permanently? Ryanna couldn't even make that promise to herself. That didn't stop her from putting on her best smile, though; the fakeness behind it not even visible. Without bothering to knock (her key had been made into a cute little necklace she wore around her neck), the brunette walked right in as if she owned the place, straight into the living room.

"Sorry, daddy-o; I believe I have supreme rule over this TV, and I shall not waste said power on someone as sucky as the Yankees. Frankly, I'm quite appalled that you even think that's okay...and to think, I call you my father." Her dramatics were exaggerated, arms crossed her her chest (duffel bag dangling from her elbow) as she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

back again • ryanna and stiles

          Let it be known that Stiles is a fairly, if not completely, reasonable guy at least 97% of the time — however, when it comes to being subjected to watch reruns of baseball games that don’t feature the Mets, he resorts to flopping over the arm of the couch and making guttural noises of complaint in the hopes his dear father will get the message. His father only reminds him that he’ll be nineteen this April (the awkward year between burgeoning adulthood and actual, realized adulthood), before proceeding to ignore his son once more. As if that’s supposed to mean anything. After all, the number one rule in the Stilinski household is never bring any team other than the Mets into anything, much less the Yankees, ever, period. Scott, of course, knows this, having grown up with Stiles and his utter distaste for the team; Ryanna doesn’t seem to care for baseball one way or another, but she can at least protest a Yankees rerun — hell, even Derek, who’s nearly six hundred miles away at the moment, knows better than to even so much as breathe their name.

          “I should tell you — Ryanna’s coming over.” Stiles says suddenly, feeling slightly guilt for having nearly forgotten that his dad would also be at home (moments after he was talking about the very idea to Ryanna, go figure), and so he’d have to catch up with her, too. His dad is quiet for a few moments, so Stiles props himself up on his elbows to see him deep in thought. “She’s back in town. It’s a new thing. She’s back with Stef and Mike,” He adds, and his dad nods, allowing himself a small, cautious smile. He’d known it had been a shock for his dad to hear that Ryanna had disappeared, and so he wonders how Derek would take news like this if he told him. If his dad is hesitant to believe him, to let himself feel relieved and happy — even with all that Derek has gone through, what with those therapy sessions, he’s not entirely sure the result of letting him in on this would be a positive one. At least, not just yet.

          “Because she’s coming over, that also means that as the guest, she gets the remote. You know the rules,” Stiles presses, a hint of a smile at his lips while his dad’s fades with a roll of his eyes. A fond roll, but one nonetheless.

          “Yeah, kiddo, but you’ve still got a few more minutes until that happens. Until then, suffer in silence, would you? I’m trying to hear the game.”