#but literally imagine that to either side of you are Allison and Stiles

[theheightofdishonor]

only tangentially related to anything but imagine being Scott Mccall and knowing you're the moral compass for like half your friend group and

[blessednereid]

Just Stay~ Isaac Lahey

Randomizing my Prompts to write an Isaac Lahey oneshot, which is probably only gonna make me cry more.

Mentions of: Major character death, spoilers, Cursing, Heartbreak, Marriage and Children, pregnancy, violence in rage cages, confrontation. She/her pronouns. Please notify me for any other mentions I may need to add.

Pairings: Pack x Reader (Platonic Friendship), Stiles x Reader [(brotherly) (If you don’t look like Stiles, you can imagine the reader as adopted, I just like the idea of Stiles as a protective brother.), Isaac x Reader (romantic).

Prompts:  A10 "You came into my world and you made it worse" and A14 "Just stay"

Word count: 3,381 words

~-~-~

Allison is dead. 

She is gone.

And there is nothing we can do to bring her back. 

It hurts like hell.

But what made it worse.

My boyfriend told me the next week he was leaving for France.

And breaking up with me,

Because he can't do long-distance.

~-~-~-~-~

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I said to him, tears running down my face, and he could hear every trickle. He wouldn't even look at me.

"I'm leaving (Y/N), I can't stay here. Mr. Argent is going to France, and I'm going with him."

"Why can't you stay? You don't have to leave. It's not like the McCall's won't let you stay at their place."

"It's not that," he sighed, exasperated at my attempts to make him stay.

"Then why can't you stay? Just stay with me." He turned to face me at that. 

"(Y/N) I can't do it. This town is full of death and pain. My dad, Erica, Boyd, Allison, Aiden. DON'T YOU SEE?" his voice was full of hurt. "I can't sit around and wait for someone else to die, for me to get closer, and for them to die. I can't do it (Y/N)."

"Isaac… your pack is here. We're here. I'm HERE!"

"But for how much longer? How much longer until you die too (Y/N)?" He turned back around and continued packing. "I don't think this is going to work."

"What? What do you—?" The tiny beaver dam holding my tears had already burst, but the floodgates holding back my sobs had just cracked at his words.

"Isaac, what do you mean?" Complete silence.

"(Y/N) I can't wait for you to die. And I sure as hell can't protect you from five and half thousand miles away." His voice was just above a whisper, but it was enough for me to hear.

I sobered up, my tears stopped coming, my heart dropped, but it wasn't as erratic as before.

"So that's it then. You're just giving us up?"

He said, "Just leave (Y/N)... you can't change my mind on this."

"No. Say it, and say it to my face. Say it, and I'll leave, but I need you to say it." I choked up in between words but managed to get the sentence out nonetheless.

He turned around. "I'm breaking up with you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No, It's just what we both needed to."

I turned on my heels and left. I immediately went to Lydia's house. 

The music playing on the radio sounded all the same to my ears, no matter how different the melody. 

I didn't look back. If he wanted to leave, I would let him go. I knew I didn't deserve that. But that realization didn't prevent the way I felt for the next month to come. 

~-~-~

Lydia and Kira tried putting me back out there, setting me up with other guys. Many people tried to break down the walls I put up, but Stiles, being the overprotective brother he is, never let them get close. Every time Isaac came up in a conversation, Malia would swear to the air. Giving empty threats to no one in particular, seeing as how he was never coming back.

I don't think I ever fully healed. He always came back to my thoughts, it was senior year's end, and I still thought of Isaac from time to time. Fondly or otherwise, it really depended on my mood. 

I still thought of him coming back, apologizing, us getting married after college, settling down in the suburbs of California, and having a family. Our kids, a boy and a girl loving their fun and witty Uncle Stiles so much they ask for him to come over all the time. 

"Uncle Stiles!" Grace and Tyler shouted and jumped away from their toys when he walked into the room. 

Isaac stood behind me, his hand on my stomach where our next child rested. He chuckled, his face buried in my neck, lightly nipping at the skin in between my neck and shoulder. 

"How are my favorite niece and nephew?"

"Silly Uncle Stiles! We're your only niece and nephew." Gracie, who was seven, stated as-a-matter-of-factly. 

"That doesn't mean you're not my favorites," he sassed before extending both of his hands and tickling them, where they fell to the floor. 

"Come on, let's leave them be." I turned to Isaac before backing out of the room.

As I said, I was about to graduate, and I still thought about him. 

But on days near the full moon, where my "bloodlust is heightened" as Stiles would say, I would go to rage cages to take out my anger. Often imagining the objects to be Isaac's head. His gorgeous head, but soon blasted to smithereens.

I walked into the building, people wore goggles and other protective equipment. I paid my fees, accepted the safety suit and the wooden baseball bat, and walked towards the room. The room with the breakable shit that would soon be shattered for my sick enjoyment. Because that's what heartbreak can do to you. 

SMASH

There goes a plate, but to me, it was his head.

The sound of glass breaking resonated through the room. 

That was a TV, but to me, it was his gut.

A dull thud

But that time, it was the wall. 

Sometimes when I saw my friends who were happy in their relationships. Sweet moments they shared would make me think of my relationship with Isaac and wonder if that's how they felt when they were heartbroken. When Isaac and I would be doing lovey-dovey things in front of them. 

"ISAAC STOP! PUT ME DOWN NOW!"

He was spinning me round and round. My torso was leaning over his shoulder onto his backside, and my legs were dangling by his chest.

"No can do, princess!" 

"Isaac, this isn't fair. Stop it!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Hmm…. How about… I'll literally kill you?"

"Fine." 

He set me down on my feet on solid ground, and very dizzy at that, he still pulled me in for a passionate kiss. And the world stood still. 

He always knew what I needed and how I was feeling. 

But that didn't stop him from walking out of my life without a second thought or notice.

I remember when Mr. Argent came back, and I was frantically asking where Isaac was.

"Mr. Argent! Hello!"

"Hello (Y/N)."

"How have you been holding up recently."

"Life has been as good as life can be."

Beat. 

"Um… Forgive my inquiry…" I hesitated. "Did Isaac come back with you, by any chance?"

"No, he preferred to stay in France. I'm sorry." My heart dropped

"Oh. Well, has he asked about us? About me?"

The deafening silence made my heart stop completely.

"Oh. Ok then. Nice having you back." I ran before he could say anything

~-~-~

It was graduation.

After the ceremony, we had a party in the backyard of Lydia's house. I guess it was to celebrate, not graduating, but making it through high school alive.

And guess who decided to show up.

Isaac Lahey.

In a fucking black suit, with a white collared shirt, with white tulips in his fucking hands.

I didn't notice him at first. Not until Stiles' fist connected with his jaw.

"Ok, I deserved that." Blood from his lip started running down his chin.

We made eye contact, and I wished we hadn't. His face softened and reminded me of every single time he told me he loved me.

My legs started walking to him mindlessly. I didn't even know what they were doing. It was as if I was a doll being controlled by someone else.

When I got to him, he reached out to me. I responded by slapping his hand away and bringing my fist to the other side of his face.

"There. It's even."

~-~-~

He'd been here two weeks. 

I hadn't uttered a single syllable to him since 'It's even' I had run back inside to Lydia's bathroom and locked myself in there. Lydia, Malia, and Kira came to my rescue a little bit later with all my comfort foods. We watched stand-up comedy movies until we passed out. 

I didn't know who kicked out Isaac, and I didn't want to know. Stiles just came to the room a little bit after I left to tell me he was gone. He didn't say anything else. 

I thought I could get away with not talking to Isaac for the rest of eternity, but I was hit with reality sooner than I thought. 

My phone lit up with a message from an "Unknown ID." All it said was, 'I'm outside.' 

I put on my sandals and walked outside to my front door, where the sapphire-eyed love of my life stood, eyeing me as though his life depended on it. 

"You do know I have a gun inside that Mr. Argent gave me, right?" I bluffed. 

"Your heartbeat jumped, so either you're lying, or you're excited to see me and wouldn't use it anyway."

"Fuck you."

"There's the (Y/N) I knew all those years ago."

"Yeah, before you left and never said anything after that." 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" I deadpanned, squinting my eyes when a breeze blew past me.

He was attractive, and I couldn't deny it. 

He was wearing a cardinal red and gold hoodie. The jumper read the words "Stanford University." Just my luck that we would end up going to the same school.

"You know that I never meant to hurt you." 

"No, you just wanted to save your own ass from a natural human emotion of grief and instead had me experience so fucking much of it in your absence."

"Do you know I still remember the entirety of our last conversation?" I continued. "The one that ended with you telling me you were breaking up with me?

He looked at me solemnly. 

"You gave me no heads up, no warning. I just walk into your room at Scott's house and find you packing. If I hadn't gone there, I wouldn't have known."

He looked at the ground. I began stomping towards him.

"You can't just show up here and expect everything to be normal again, Isaac," I shouted. "You can't show up here and expect everything to be ok without addressing the fucking issue."

Nothing, his eyes, and the air around him reflected shame, but he said absolutely nothing. 

"LOOK AT ME!" 

"Look at what you did. You changed my world, but you made it worse."

"I'm sorry. I was a coward. And an imbecile." He paused.

"I took the easier way out because I was scared." "I didn't want to have to see you die, so I let you go. And then Chris told me what happened and how you almost did, and I fucking regretted leaving you so much."

I stared at him lifelessly. 

"I was an idiot, and I'm still an idiot, but I'd never have  forgiven myself if something were to happen to you and I couldn't tell you that I—"

I interrupted. "Just stop. Don't. You don't get to come back here and tell me that you love me. If you loved me, you would have stayed. You wouldn't have left me to mourn you as if you died. Because that's what you did. You left, and you didn't say a word," I ranted. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have done to me exactly what you were scared of. I loved you endlessly. I was there with you for everything, with your dad, when you shifted for the first time. I even got into a fight with my brother for you. When everyone died, I WAS THERE WITH YOU. You aren't the victim here. You certainly don't get to act like you are." 

A quietness passed between us, and all that could be heard was the breeze. I walked back into my house without another word, disgusted at myself, n0t for what I said, but how I felt. 

No matter how much I could deny it, I was still in love with the bastard. I still wanted to jump into his arms and cuddle with him and kiss him all over his face. I had always wanted that with him, but he broke me, and I was still hurt.

~-~-~

No matter how much I could deny it, I was still in love with the bastard. I still wanted to jump into his arms and cuddle with him and kiss him all over his face. I had always wanted that with him, but he broke me, and I was still hurt. 

Another few weeks had passed before I saw Isaac again.  It was July. In two months, we would all be going to college. It just so happened that both of us got into one of the most difficult universities to get into across the country. So, at the moment,  I was currently hating the universe. At least Lydia would also be there. 

There was a pack meeting we all had to attend, so we had to meet at Derek's loft. 

I got dressed in a navy blue jean jacket, a white thrashers t-shirt, light wash jeans, and combat boots. 

I got into Roscoe, and Stiles drove us to the loft. He tried to make small talk, but my mind was somewhere else, somewhere it shouldn't have been.

"Hey (Y/N), When do you think is a good time to name the baby now that we know he's a boy?" 

"Hm… how about when you pay your dues for the bet?"

"I thought we weren't doing the bet anymore, love?" 

"No, we were. You only tried to drop out when you found out you lost, and then you tried to bow out because you didn't wanna pay. "

He chuckled and tightened his grip around me, bringing me closer to him. 

"Fine, you won fair and square. You'll have your fifteen dollars on your nightstand by tomorrow morning. Now can we please cuddle?" he whined. 

"Mhm… yes! Yes, we can."

Stop it. Stop thinking about things you shouldn't want (Y/N). 

When Stiles pulled up to the complex, he pulled out his phone and started typing what I assumed was a text message.

We started walking up to the front door, and when we entered, there was no one to be found. Absolutely no one in sight except Stiles and me standing in the door frame.

We went upstairs to find everybody else and almost gave up until the last door.

Everybody else was in there, but so was Isaac. Standing there in a grey shirt and black jeans. Pictures of us taken by either ourselves or by our friends throughout our relationship. Everyone was backed against the walls, but he stood there in the center looking at me, and I knew this entire thing was a set-up.

"Stiles?"

He sighed.  "Just listen to what he has to say, ok? I already tried kicking the shit out of him."

I gulped, but I stood there, feeling very out of place and very betrayed.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the black leather book he held in his hands.

"I have something to say before I tell you what it is," Isaac whispered.

"Isaac, I don't have time for this."

"Please?" He was desperate, and I'm pretty sure everyone in the room could tell, but nobody was looking at him. Everyone was looking at me.

I nodded towards him reluctantly.

"I wanted to write to you. To call you every day. I wanted to come back with Mr. Argent, but I knew you would hate me, and I couldn't bear to see that look on your face, even though I knew it was my fault." He tried looking into my eyes, but I wouldn't let him, looking at everyone in the room beside him.

"I left, and I broke your heart. I know that, and I thought that because I broke your heart, you'd never want to see me again. No matter how much my heart begged to be with you, I wouldn't let it. Because that wasn't what you deserved."

He lifted up the book, and I stared at it curiously.

"So I kept this, and I filled it with everything I wanted to say to you. Stories about my day, times I remembered things we did, things that reminded me of you, places I wanted to see with you, poems, songs, drawings. Anything and everything I could think of to keep my distance so that I didn't hurt you again."

My eyes started to water, but I wouldn't let the tears fall, unlike last time.

"And I'm so fucking selfish for saying this, but I  keep hurting myself trying to stay away from you. And I don't want to do it anymore. Because if I'm with you, at least I can try to take away the pain I'll end up causing you. But if you're not with me, there's no one to take away mine."

He opened the book to a bookmarked page and started reading.

"Eyes as big as Venus

"As enchanting and magnetic 

"as the moon to the tides

"With her heart so divine

"I'm caught like a spider,

"In charlotte's web."

I bit my lip. As cheesy as it may be, he wrote a poem for me.

"Good morning, love. I just thought of what a future with you would be like." He paused. "Probably full of adventure. You would probably want to go exploring the world after college. All I would want is to have you around. I was thinking maybe when we're older we could have a baby. Start our own little family."

Fuck.

"I was thinking if we have a boy we could name him Noah, for your dad, and a girl we could name her Claudia, after your mom and that pen pal you told me about who you were very close with. In all honesty, I just want to wake up with you in my arms and go to sleep just the same. I love you."

A tear slipped. I think I'm about to pass out.

“"I've been planning to come back for a while, love. I was just a coward who didn't want you to hate him any more than he knew you already did. So I stayed. But I'm here now. And I'm not leaving this time. I don't care what you say, I'll always be there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on, or someone to laugh with, or talk about your book that no one else has read with. I'm always gonna be that person for you because I'm so in love with you, it hurts. And it hurts, even more, to be away from you, and I just can't do it anymore. So I'll be in your life in every capacity that you will let me." 

Apparently, I had started walking towards him. Who keeps controlling my feet like this?

Tears were coming out of my eyes, and I wanted to scream.

"Fuck you. Fuck you for leaving me and then coming back and pulling this bullshit."  

I turned to my friends. "And fuck you guys for tricking me into this crap." I turned back to Isaac. "But most of all? Fuck you for being so goddamn addicting that after nearly 2 fucking years, I'm still so in love with you even after all you've done to me, I would let you back into my heart.

“Because that is what you have done, Isaac Lahey. You have worked your way back into your home in my heart, so if you hurt me again, I swear to all that is good, I'll kill you."

Before I knew it, his right hand was on the small of my back, his left hand on the back of my neck. He pulled me to him and kissed me. The kind of kiss that makes the world pause. The kind where you forget who and what is around you. Even the cheers of your friends as they celebrate their one true pairing reunited and the scoffs of your brother ready to kill someone for his baby sister.

[hermywolf]

ranking my favorite characters about random shit part 2

ranking my favorite characters (clarke griffin, dean winchester, fox mulder, rose tyler, newt, kaz brekker, samwise gamgee, charles xavier, bill denbrough, lord asriel, steve rogers, scott mccall, anna milton and barry berkman) about random shit. this is entirely self-indulgent

PART 2 : how many allies do they have/how powerful are their allies. basically how screwed they’d be if they had to rely on their allies to survive

1- DEAN WINCHESTER

yeah believe it or not im putting him before charles or steve. listen, listen; dean just. does this thing. in which he’ll get pretty much anyone on his side after like two conversations. ESPECIALLY incredibly powerful supernatural creatures. i mean he’s got sam, aka the second best hunter on earth, and jack, literally GOD, on his side; then obviously the dean winchester simp squad, castiel, a seraph and commander of garrisons who can get heaven to fight for him; benny, a vampire; crowley, a powerful crossroad demon and the king of hell; amara, literally THE DARKNESS HERSELF, god’s SISTER; and then there’s just SO many others who will fight for him for diverse reasons, rowena, eileen, claire, jody, donna, kaia, mary, anna, gabriel, DEATH HIMSELF was his bitch before billie, then ketch charlie kevin, he’s just got so many allies and so many are some of the most powerful creatures in the universe. i mean, jack, amara and gabriel alone are three of the most powerful beings who have ever existed, as well as billie and the other archangels but all of them are dead, and chuck but he’s also dead and even he would be on dean’s side since dean is his favorite and if it’s an actual life-threatening situation chuck would want the show to keep going. so yeah dean winchester’s got the biggest defense squad imaginable and honestly? good for him, he deserves it

2- CHARLES XAVIER

do i even have to say it? outside of his ability to. you know. literally control minds, he’s also a leader who inspires loyalty and trust, and he’s got all the x-men fighting for him, including jean and logan - and even if we’re being honest some of the brotherhood, i mean especially in the first class timeline, erik and raven would absolutely be on his side. he’s got some of the most powerful mutants of all time ready to fight for his life

3- STEVE ROGERS

I mean he’s the leader of the avengers, man. have you seen the avengers assemble scene? they were fighting against thanos there but don’t try to tell me all of them wouldn’t fight for him. he’s got the falcon, black widow and the winter soldier on his side as well as the SCARLET WITCH, CAPTAIN MARVEL, THOR, do i need to keep going. he’s got a huge reputation and everyone knows and trusts him. and as we can also see in all his movies he inspires loyalty and devotion easily so even with people he doesn’t know he can get himself a loyal army in one well-delivered speech à la captain america

4- KAZ BREKKER

while most of the people on this list (steve, scott, charles, dean, bill, newt, anna) are born leaders who inspire trust and loyalty, kaz is just. really good at blackmail and insanely smart and cruel. and he’s got an insanely scary reputation too. he’s got the crows on his side no matter what, so an amazing spy, the best sharpshooter in ketterdam, a grisha who survived parem, an ex-drüskelle, and a demolition expert; as well as now the entirety of the dregs and inej’s crew, probably. plus, he most likely has leverage on the entirety of ketterdam and more. if he got in real trouble he could probably dig out the years and years of blackmail he got stacked away and get himself allyships with anyone he wants. plus his allies are ruthless, diverse and all strategically selected

5- SCOTT MCCALL

he’s got his entire pack ready to jump to help him anytime. and really when you think about it his pack is so big and diverse, there’s all kinds of creatures/skills ready to help him, plus he’s a true alpha, any werewolf would jump to his aid. I mean let’s look at his pack, stiles, allison, lydia, derek, malia, isaac, kira, hayden, mason, corey, and then of course stilinski, deaton, melissa, chris and peter, i mean even theo... he’s got a huge pack who is extremely loyal to him and they’re all kinds of creatures too, he’s fine

6- ROSE TYLER

everyone loves rose SO much. like obviously the doctor will give his life for her without hesitation but we also got jack, mickey, jackie, and even a bunch of people she met for like a couple episodes like donna or sarah jane immediately loved her. so i think she’s ultimately got some pretty solid allies especially with her father’s wealth and torchwood’s support in the alternate reality

7- CLARKE GRIFFIN

im putting her pretty down because on one hand he’s got very powerful/devoted allies on her side, like bellamy, lexa, roan, nyilah, finn, wells, etc (the key of getting your allies to be entirely devoted and loyal to you is to make at least half of them fall in love with you OR to top them so good they’ll literally put their lives down for you because of how good it was and clarke got that down to an art) BUT they’re also like. all dead. like almost all the people i just listed are dead so. yeah she’s kinda on her own in the end but if we look at early seasons clarke before literally all of them got murdered she had skaikru, azgeda and trikru pretty much in her pocket, so three of the biggest/most technically advanced armies on EARTH ready to fight for her.

8- LORD ASRIEL

now he doesn’t have actual allies per say but he can manage to get pretty much anyone on his side through charisma, threats and promises, so he ends up steadily getting massive support from witches, angels and many others in the books. he can pretty easily get himself a bunch of followers at his side ready to die for his cause.

9-SAMWISE GAMGEE

now listen he does have a pretty solid bunch of allies, aka the entire fellowship, who they, themselves, have a bunch of allies, who have a bunch of allies. i mean homeboi’s got ARAGORN and LEGOLAS and GANDALF on his side all ready to jump to save the tiny hobbits anytime so he’ll be fine.

10- BILL DENBROUGH

he’s immediately got the losers on his side, which is a win because they’re stubborn and annoying enough that they defeated an alien demonic clown. plus they’re quite literally assembled by a divinity to destroy a demon, so they’re the perfect team to kick ass and they’ll risk their lives for each other. plus he’s got a fanbase! people read his books and watch his movies. meaning he’s probably got a pretty big part of stan twt ready to help?? idk man i just think he’ll be fine when it comes to allies

11- NEWT

he’s got the entire glade ready to jump to his aid pretty much at any time, i mean let’s be honest if there’s one person all the gladers would agree on defending it would be.. ok it would be chuck bc he’s a CHILD but otherwise it’d be newt. plus he’s alby’s second in command and even gally likes him and respects him more than he likes and respects most people, which isnt much but hey kudos for the effort. anywho yeah the entire glade would defend him i think

12- ANNA MILTON

she would’ve once had the entirety of heaven at her commands ready to smite anyone who comes close to her but now that she fell and rebelled they all want her dead so. i mean i wish i could say cas would help her but after he betrayed her im not so sure? and the winchesters well idk either, maybe, maybe not, depends whether or not the entire trying-to-kill-sam ordeal happened. gabriel might help her? idk where to put her because i don’t KNOW if cas, dean, gabriel or the angels would help her but if any of them did then even one of these is a pretty solid backup so. idk man

13- FOX MULDER

im only on season 4 but as far as i can see he’s got only scully. which is pretty solid backup, she can kick ass, but still. i guess it’s one of the downsides of everyone thinking you’re batshit insane and having the entire government out to get you because they all LOATHE YOUR GUTS SO MUCH

14- BARRY BERKMAN

I mean dude. he pretty much kills all his friends. like he could ask for chris’s help but umm well he killed him, if he’s in a bad situation oh great he’s got a friend at the police except NO he murdered her. what’s that? fuches? no barry’s literally trying to murder him as of now. sally wouldn’t help him at all. cousineau just found out barry murdered his gf. at MOST he can hope that noho hank will help but i mean he’s not much help tbh i love the guy but he’s kinda useless<3

[stiles-o-dylan24]

Yes sure! I think it was something like can you rate the teen wolf guys as to who you think would be the best boyfriend and why? I'd love to see your opinion on this! I think that's what it was, I can't really remember 😂

I literally love that you sent this in so thank you! 

Stiles would hands down be the best boyfriend 10/10

I mean LOOK IT him. One look and you see the love in his eyes and how much he cherishes the fact that you chose him. He would be so affectionate towards you too. Always kissing you in some way every chance he could, holding your hand or just having his arms wrapped around you in some way. Walking anywhere or lounging on the couch/bed watching a movie or your favorite tv show, you’d be in a constant Stiles cocoon. He’d take all the goofy pictures with you as well as the soft sweet ones. He would be so in tune to you right off the bat and would know exactly what to do when you’re upset or hurting without you even knowing it’s what you needed. Stiles would cherish everyday that he would get to call you his and he would do everything in his power to protect you, no matter what. 

---

Derek also has my vote for being the absolute best boyfriend 10/10

He’s got walls built and he’s reserved to actually allowing happiness to be in his life, but when he finally lets you in? Check mate, game over- you have him and literally all the love he has to give. He would sleep best when you were there, his arm and leg draped over you, pulling you close into his chest. He doesn't necessarily understand why every little event/date/holiday needs so many pictures taken but he agrees to them because of the smile that overcomes your face when you smush both your faces together in the screen. I think he would also kiss you every chance he could, not so much probably in public other than the side of your head or a quick peck, but when you’re alone? Steamy make out sesh for sure.

Protective? Check. Loving? Check. Fiercely loyal? Fucking check.

---

Isaac also gives me the phenomenal boyfriend vibe 10/10

The walls from the physical and emotional abuse growing up would still be there, but I also think he’s the type of person that that would make him love more fiercely. He would be so protective over you both with actual threats but also just with you and your heart, showing you everything good out of a relationship that he never was.

I feel like he would be very affectionate, always has his arm around you with you pulled into his side when you’re walking or standing. Always holding your hand, especially when he’s driving, and he would always be kissing you in some way every chance he could- not afraid of pda in the slightest. I also think date nights out or staying home would be so much fun with him.

---

Jordan also makes me feel like he would be a phenomenal boyfriend 9/10

He works a lot, very weird hours at that, however he would always go out of his way to make sure that you knew he was thinking about during his shift. He would always make sure he checked in after he was answering to a call because he would know how much you worried about him. He would be insanely protective of you and would do everything he could to make sure you were never apart of any of the supernatural drama surrounding the city. He would plan the best dates, however, lounging around the house with him on his days off would be some of his favourite moments because seeing you in his clothes drives him crazy.

---

Liam I think would be an absolute sweetie boyfriend 9/10

Always holds your hand and would much rather be cuddling with his arms wrapped around you on the couch watching a movie than doing anything else. He’d be up for doing anything you wanted and would be very in tune to you after not that long of dating I feel like. He would take any opportunity to kiss you, whether that be sweet kisses on your cheek or forehead or making out in the quad at school, this puppy would for sure not care one bit about pda as long as you didn’t either

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Scott, if the supernatural wasn’t continuously calling, I think has the chance to be a really good boyfriend 8/10

I think he would be super affectionate and wouldn’t mind pda but definitely wouldn’t be at the hard core make out sesh on a public bench level either. He’d always demand to hold your hand if for some reason you weren’t already and I just imagine dates with him would be super fun and adorable. I definitely feel like he would be loyal, but I'm curious how he’d balance the supernatural life and a relationship with someone who wasn’t in the throws of it all like Allison, Kira, and Malia were. 

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Theo based purely on 6B and the hope I saw in him I think he’d be a decent boyfriend 8/10

I feel like the being dragged through the floor and tormented for months would more than likely set balance to the evil he was sporting before that. He was more compassionate and protective which gave me the vibes that he would be a decent boyfriend to the right girl that came along. Bad boy turned good and actually does have a softie heart. I’m here for it. He’d definitely always has his arm around your shoulders when you guys are walking around and I could see him holding your hand while he’s driving. Being in tune to you would probably take some time but I see the hope there for sure.

[asterekmess]

Scott McCall is the poster boy for entitlement, misogyny and toxic masculinity. Remember when he demanded that Allison goes out with her stalker (Matt) and then yelled at her in the middle of a crowded club because she had the audacity to trust her own father to save Jackson instead of obeying him? Or when Scott pinned Allison against her bedroom’s door and humiliated her just to prove how ‘weak’ and ‘fragile’ she was and because “If I’m scared shitless, then you should be scared shitless too”?

I told my friend Mads a long time ago that with every new fic I put out, my urge to become, if not popular, then just understood as an anti-scott blog got stronger. I mean, it’s not like I want my blog to just be about hating Scoot, but I didn’t really want people to come in and follow me thinking I was a Scott fan, because it would be disingenuous.

I think I got my wish? Either one person has a lot of feelings (which I’m all for) or a bunch of v angry anti-scott people have swarmed over me like hummingbirds on sugar water. It’s a really interesting experience!

Anyway, back to your ask. So, I don’t like Scott, and admittedly sometimes I’m a little extra bitter/hateful than others, but I do try to be accurate in my dislikes of him (usually), so I’ll go through what you said one at a time and try to decipher (from my v faulty memory, so apologies if there are mistakes) if I agree with each statement.

Since some people have requested the Read More thing so they can scroll easier.

Scott is: Entitled. Off the cuff, I would agree. I’ve mentioned before how frustrating it was to see the show attempt to portray him as a poor kid, when he’s nowhere near that. I’ve also seen posts before that explore how Scott doesn’t carry a ‘poor kid’ mentality at all (they probably did it better than me, and it was probably Athenadark who did the analyzing). Growing up, I didn’t consciously know I was poor. Not as in ‘i had everything I needed’ but as in “i assumed all kids grew up occasionally eating a single can of pears for dinner or had to return groceries from the car because their parent’s card was declined and they were out of food stamps or wore a pair of tennis shoes until they were literally taped together with packing tape because we couldn’t afford new ones.” I grew up in a poor town, on the poor side of that town, so there wasn’t a lot that showed me it was possible to live differently. Being poor gives you a specific mentality, and when I finally met kids who were ‘middle class’ I was blown away by the differences. I say all this because Scott is very clearly a middle class kid.

Yes, he has an after school job. Who tf didn’t? That doesn’t automatically make you poor? Even my rich friend got a summer job because she wanted to buy band merch and her parents wouldn’t let her. But have you seen his room? It’s a wreck. We get the scene of him digging under his bed trying to find his phone, and I honestly was kinda disgusted. (I also grew up in a hellhole hoarder house, so clutter fucks me up) It’s not just the messiness though. It’s finding out that his mom is the one doing the laundry. Melissa “One shift won’t break us completely” McCall still cleans her son’s room and does his laundry and sews his clothes even though she’s supposed to be working herself to death at the hospital. Oh, and he’s sixteen years old, so he should be able to do his own fucking laundry? it’s one thing if his stuff ends up there while she’s doing laundry, but apparently she goes out of her way to do his clothes regularly enough that she has no qualms about going in his room to clean? Scott works at a VET’s office and has for long enough that he can put a cast on a dog and feels confident giving it painkillers in the right dosage. And he can’t sew a line of stitches in his clothes? He’s got an ensuite bathroom. His room is clearly the master bedroom. He doesn’t make his mom dinner to bring her, he picks up chinese. And there’s the house itself and its size, etc. Of the two of them, i would’ve expected Stiles to have the messy room. He’s adhd, I know how hard it is to keep a room clean with that kind of headspace. But no, his is really clean most of the time, even his desk, unless he’s researching something specific. I mention Stiles because it’s the comparison of the two that makes Scott’s own messiness stand out. Hell, literally no other bedroom we’re shown is messy in the slightest. Allison’s, Lydia’s, Jackson’s, none of them. (I don’t remember Liam’s room, if we saw it) He feels entitled enough to take up extra space and add extra work to his mother’s stress level (which, listen, I’m not saying being not-poor makes you entitled. I’m saying that the show makes the claim Scott IS poor and he Still does these things. THAT is the entitled part.)

Then there’s his relationship with Stiles. “Yeah, but I had you before.” When talking about the good and bad things in his life, he doesn’t even think to mention Stiles as one of the good things. He says he has nothing, just like before. Stiles isn’t even on his radar, even though they’re looking right at each other. Yet we know that Stiles is basically Scott’s only friend. As someone else with very few friends, I can’t imagine saying to my best friend’s face that I have nothing and no one. Let alone if that friend had been keeping me from dying and teaching me how to be a fucking werewolf for months on end. When do we see him worry about Stiles being human and stuck in the middle of all this? Especially in earlier seasons, we never see him say anything like “maybe you should hang back cus’ you’ll get hurt.” Like, we know that Stiles would do it anyway. And we’d get pissed if Scott told Stiles he wasn’t allowed to help because he was human, but that’s because Scott doesn’t get to tell Stiles what to do. We know Stiles finds ways to protect himself when he has to, but Scott never even asks. He never hints at “I’m worried about you and please know I wont’ be mad if you stay away from the fight.” Even Derek shoves Stiles behind him when the kanima shows up. There’s the thing where he warns them ‘if something goes wrong call for me.” But he explicity says that worry is for Allison, even though she has some method of self-defense. Stiles has nothing. Scott never cares enough to think “Maybe we shouldn’t bring him to the rave where there’s gonna be a vicious killing machine that has already tried to attack him once.” One word from Peter “vulnerable” and Scott stalks Allison (and forces Stiles to help him) for a week. But Stiles gets trapped in a pool for hours, scared out of his mind, and Scott never so much as seems to get clingy? He just assumes Stiles will be fine. He feels entitled to Stiles’ help and assistance, without putting any thought into Stiles’ safety. He asks “is it illegal?” not “Will you get in trouble?” He looks at Stiles when he says “I can’t protect anyone” But when was he trying to protect STILES?  Then there’s the part where while he’s ‘under the influence of the wolfsbane whistle’ (A plot point I fucking hate) he drags Stiles down with him and includes him in being nothing. Being no one. He assumes that if he was nothing before the bite, then Stiles must’ve been nothing also. And since Stiles didn’t get bitten, it also implies that Stiles is still nothing. He’s just hanging on Scott’s wolfy coattails. That’s an incredibly entitled viewpoint to have.

Admittedly, we do see some more humble moments with Allison, especially at the beginning of their relationship, where he says “I just wanna make sure I get my second chance” he’s not assuming he’ll get it. Go scott! (I’m not the hugest fan of him asking her out after he’s clearly just done her a massive favor and is keeping her from getting in trouble for hitting a dog, and she’s wearing his SHIRT and she can’t really say no without looking absolutely horrible, but she seemed pretty into him, so I’ll let it go) But once they’re together? I know that most best friends share secrets and private stuff with each other...but Scott tells Stiles so much about his sex life with Allison that Stiles is actually pissed off and kind of disgusted by it. Stiles. Who is supposed to be sex obsessed. Even he thinks that it’s just way too much information. I can’t imagine Allison would be comfortable with Stiles knowing that much about her in bed. (But at the same time, we see Scott tell Stiles that he never wants any more info on Stiles in bed than Stiles’ vague innuendo abt wet dreams, and then he still feels entitled to tell Stiles whatever he wants about him and Allison and won’t listen when Stiles asks him to stop.) When he asks Allison to go out with someone else, there’s so much that makes me both sad and angry. She is confused and scared, and has clearly committed really hard to Scott (enough to go against everything her family wants) and he tells her to go on a date with someone else. Not just that, but to kiss someone else. To kiss Matt, specifically, whom he knows Stiles thinks is really fucking creepy (though, we need to acknowledge that no one knew Matt was stalking Allison.) And she tries to show him that he’s asking for something really fucking weird and uncomfortable. “Kiss him? You mean, like really kiss him?” And even then, he doesn’t think anything is weird about telling his girlfriend (and they are clearly v monogamous. We see how insanely possessive he is of her, losing his shit when she’s just introduced to other guys Lydia knows, after only one date that he bailed from) to kiss someone else, but not kiss them the way she kisses him. He doesn’t ask for any info about the date, doesn’t ask if Allison’s uncomfortable. He just says “Do it.” and expects her to obey. He feel entitled to controlling who she’s with and what she does, without asking her if she’s okay with it. Because I haven’t seen later seasons in a long time, I usually try to stick to the earlier stuff so I’m less likely to say something stupid, but I do remember him scaring her in her bedroom. There’s a lot about that scene to unpack, but in the case of Allison specifically, we see that he still feels entitled to touch her. They are not friends right now. She has not given any hint that she wants to get back together (except asking to talk to him in ep.1). He should not feel like it is in any way okay to touch her at all, let alone hold her still with super strength. But he does. In his mind. She’s Allison, so why wouldn’t he able to touch her?

He also feels entitled to his leadership. We need to make clear that Scott doesn’t do the leadership stuff. He just happens to be the person in the friend group who’s a werewolf. Stiles and Jackson are the ones who go and set Peter on fire after they can’t get ahold of Scott (WHO IS NOW WITH DEREK, and THEREFORE HAS HIS PHONE). (You’re telling me Scott could’ve done the howl thing at any time to find Derek, and he just left him there for a week?) (Also, yes, I know Stiles was also not involved in helping find Derek until Peter made him. I’m annoyed at him too.) What is leadership-worthy about leaving a tortured man on a grate with electric wires plugged into his side and shackles on his wrists until he agrees to help you kill his own uncle (Oh, also, I have Peter feelings and have salty thoughts about the plot of s1, if anyone’s interested)? But let’s say Scott’s leadership comes in Season 2, not at the end of S1. But when exactly does he earn it? When he tells a teenage girl he doesn’t care about the humiliation and pain that led her to taking a bite that would cure her lifelong illness and give her a friend group that she didn’t have to be afraid of or bullied by? When he called a boy who looked him in the eyes and begged for him to keep his wolf secret “Bloodthirsty”? When he dismissed Boyd’s want for the bite, which was a way for him to make friends and feel like he belonged somewhere, as ridiculous? When he damaged Boyd’s workplace in a way that would almost certainly get Boyd in trouble? (You think smashing a massive crater into the middle of the ice rink with his fist didn’t get Boyd yelled at or maybe even fired?) When Boyd asked to talk to him on the field, and Scott attacked without rhyme or reason? When he let Erica sit and seize while he fussed over Allison? “This doesn’t Feel right” really Scott? You know, I think Erica, who’s having a fucking seizure in the next aisle, would agree! Hurry the fuck up! Oh my god, I went so off track. I have more thoughts on all that though, if anyone’s curious. Anyway. Scott doesn’t do anything that actually entails being a leader. His one job in the rave, he passes off to Isaac so that he can go call Gerard, because he’s currently working with the villain behind everyone’s back. The whole thing with Allison telling her parents and the plan with Derek getting messed up? Yeah, that was Scott’s fault for not telling her. Hell, for not telling GERARD. He, what he expected her to read his mind? Scott knew Allison was telling her parents about Jackson! She said she would tell them after he broke out of the van! The entire fuckup is his fault. But he still shouts at her and blames her and says she should’ve ‘trusted’ him. He passes all the guilt onto her and leaves her there on the verge of tears. He’s entitled to her obedience and he’s entitled to shaming her and scolding her like a child when she doesn’t do what he wants.

So, yeah, I think Scott’s entitled.

Scott is: Misogynistic. This one...I’m not so sure? Scott has a lot of bad qualities, a lot of behavior that’s incredibly toxic and manipulative, but I can honestly say that I can’t think of a single time when his reasoning for not letting/not thinking someone is capable of doing something is because they’re female?

There’s a lot to be said about the manipulative way that he speaks to and interacts with his girlfriends, but that doesn’t stem from misogyny, from what I can see. It stems from everything else. From his self-obsession, from his moral code, from his honest belief that he deserves obedience and complete candor from those closest to him. He does this to everyone, not just the women. It’s just easier to see it with the women because we’re primed to look for it. (I’m making the assumption here that you are female/feminine presenting, anon, since I know that the vast majority of the fandom is, but if I’m wrong, my apologies) Wow, though I’d have more to say on this bit, but I don’t.

Scott is: Toxicly Masculine. I’m not sure where I lay on this idea. Teen Wolf does have a lot of general instances of toxic masculinity, and Scott does exhibit some of them, but again, part of those behaviors can be found in women as well.

I know that it regularly pissed me off how often they reduced men to sex machines. *Scott and Allison are making out on Allison’s bed* Scott: “I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” Allison: “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” Scott (incredulous): “Are you seriously asking me that question?”

*Stiles and Heather are talking about having sex at the party* Heather: “I mean, would you be okay with that?” Stiles (gently mocking): “Would I be okay with that? Yes, yes, I believe so.” They go out of their way to completely negate the possibility that a guy wouldn’t be into sex, even making the concept of asking for a man’s consent sound silly. This becomes even more toxic when Stiles complains about Malia leaving marks on him, hurting him during sex, and he gets teased for it. No one considers it a problem that Malia is scratching him. He’s expected to be appreciative of it/like it.

There’s the possessiveness, yes. Scott does some really fucked up, possessive things. Like freaking on Allison when Lydia introduces her to other guys, or getting angry from the sidelines just because Jackson is talking to Allison, not even flirting with her. Or running off to attack Jackson AND Allison (because there’s no proof he was only going after Jackson, and he’s only ever been able to follow allison’s scent across town, so he couldn’t have specifically been looking for Jackson) after she broke up with him. Throwing Isaac into a wall for liking Allison, even though they’ve been broken up for FOUR MONTHS. I can’t think of any more at the moment. But it’s a lot. BUT. We also see possessive behavior from Malia (yeah, she was an actual coyote for years, but she’s still a woman.) and similar amounts of aggression throughout the seasons from most of the shifters, implying that the habit is born from the werewolf/shifter thing, and not specifically Scott being toxicly masculine. (It’s still not good, but it’s not technically toxic masculinity.)

Aggression I think we can all agree is a shifter-wide phenomenon.

So, yeah, there’s instances that come across this way, and there’s also evidence that some of it is werewolf related, not scott related. I’m torn.

Anyway, again, I’ve talked way too much. If there are moments from later in the show that I’m missing that specifically prove/disprove these points, I’d love to know about it and check it out! I feel you Anon, Scott is infuriating and you’re in good company. <3

[supernaturalist1234]

@the-cookie-of-doom 

Happy Birthday! 

Ao3

Mitch is never going to be used to being 20 again. He wasn’t even used to it the first time around. He had presented late, only realizing he’s an alpha when he was 18. So of course, this is right around when he started figuring out what exactly that meant, and it’s weird. Time travel in general is weird. Mitch still feels older, physically he still has the same abilities he had. He just doesn’t look like he does. Don’t ask Mitch how that works, he doesn’t know. Stiles would probably know. 

And that’s the other thing he isn’t going to get used to. Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski is definitely on the stranger side of people Mitch has met. And that is almost an understatement. 

The teenager was seemingly right at the heart of everything going on in California, always there when anything went wrong. And almost always the cause when something went right. From the file Mitch had gotten, he had somehow been labeled as incredibly dangerous, and someone to keep an eye on. Which is what Mitch was supposed to do. And all he saw was someone who was a bit spastic, who hung out with a multitude of supernatural creatures, and who probably had far more secrets than anyone realized.

Mysterious? Yes. Dangerous? Probably not. 

Mitch had been planning on reporting that back when something happened. Another person on their radar, Morell, and Stiles’ friend Scott interacted. Somewhat explosively. Literally. Mitch isn’t sure exactly what happened, but he knows that it was bad. Bad enough that Stiles went back to Beacon Hills, going to the forest in the middle of the night. Mitch had read up on the preserve, having heard one of the other people Stiles spent time with mention something called a nemeton. What he didn’t know is why Stiles is going there. 

His first mistake was following Stiles there. His second was agreeing to help. 

The woman laughed, light and humorless, the sound like what Mitch imagined the inside of an empty bottle would sound like. He doesn’t know what’s going on, having come in what looks like halfway through the conversation. 

Stiles looks determined, glaring at the willowy figure before them. Mitch doesn’t try to interrupt the moment, but he does anyway. Two sets of eyes turn to him, one whiskey-colored and the other a blank grey. Now Stiles just looks exasperated. 

“Oh great. My FBI agent decided to come. How wonderful,” He rolls his eyes, completely missing Mitch blinking at him in a bit of confusion. 

“CIA, actually,” Mitch corrects. Strange women with electric auras and crazed-looking teenagers trapped in a black landscape with him? Alright, time to adjust. No need to react, just yet. 

“I decline your offer, Mieczysław,” She speaks the same way she laughs, bemusement in every word yet no emotion, breathy almost. 

Stiles snaps his head back, opening his mouth to argue, probably. Mitch stays quiet now, curious as to what exactly Stiles had offered. Based on what is going on and where Mitch was, he’s assuming that the woman is the nemeton. He hadn’t read anything about it being sentient, or at least not to this level, but magic tree stumps will just have to go on his resume because he is not leaving now. 

The nemeton holds up a hand, silencing Stiles before he can start. 

“I will, however, make a counteroffer,” Stiles gives her a suspicious look, so Mitch refrains from doing so despite feeling the same. 

“You can go back,” She smiles, and it is as creepy as Mitch thought it would be. Stiles blinks, standing up a bit straighter from his almost hunchback posture. 

“What?” Mitch has a sneaking suspicion he isn’t going to like where this is going. 

“You can go back. You’ll be young again, you can make different choices. And once you reach this point in time, or you die, you can decide if this is that is the future you want or if you want this one,” The nemeton mentions Stiles death like it’s nothing. Like it’s an inside joke between them. Which, judging by the wince from Stiles, it just might be. Mitch will have to look at that later. 

“No one but you will have their memories, so you’ll have to figure it out on your own. And you can’t tell anyone from this present either, though I suspect you already knew that,” She’s still smiling. Mitch glances at Stiles who has a considerate look on his face. 

“Hold on,” Mitch speaks up, stepping closer to the pair. Stiles turns to him, while the nemeton just looks off into the distance near him. “Messing with the timeline is never a good idea, and I’m not sure it’s this one that should be messing with it,” Mitch gestures to Stiles, who frowns at him. 

“Alright, so you can go back as well,” the nemeton responds quickly, as though she already knew what he was going to say. She probably did. 

“What?!” Stiles and Mitch both turn to her, shock evident on their faces. 

“One person to help who has an outsider point of view would probably be a good idea,” She stops smiling, but it doesn’t add anything to her appearance. “So Mitch may go back as well if he prefers. It’s his decision, Mieczysław. You will make yours,” Hearing his name come out of her mouth is uncomfortable, but he focuses more on what she’s offering. Stiles is looking back and forth between them, pained. 

“Okay.” 

So now he’s back in time, with one Stilinski. Two, technically, but he hasn’t officially met the Sheriff despite knowing the name of his first pet and all that comes after it. Three if you count the grandpa, but not even Stiles counts that one so Mitch isn’t either. And so he is going to help change the future to stop whatever fate was so awful Stiles made a deal with a corporeal being of magic. 

Mitch is probably going to regret that decision. He might already regret that decision. Now all he has to do is convince Stiles to let him help. It might be harder than he expects, given the death glare he had been on the receiving end of. 

Stiles hates Mitch. He really, really does. Like, seriously. Not even kidding. Being back to 15 and recently omega is weird, and having to deal with everything that entails is hard enough, but Mitch is always right at the periphery. Stiles goes to the grocery store? Boom, Mitch is in the produce aisle. At school? Parking lot in his car, bleachers on the opposite side, outside the window. At his house? Yup, he’s somewhere around here, just look. 

It reminds him of Lilo and Stitch if he’s honest. And he’d use that metaphor on Mitch to compare him to Jumba and Pleakley if that didn’t make Stiles Stitch. 

It had been annoying enough in the present when Mitch had actually been good at keeping himself secret, he just underestimated Stiles. Now Mitch was just straight-up there. Sometimes Stiles thought Mitch might just be an apparition that only Stiles could see. Neither his dad nor Scott nor anyone else he was around ever noticed Mitch, and that made it doubly awful. But he isn’t going to accept Mitch’s help. They might end up working together from pure necessity, but this is Stiles's job and he is going to do it well. He’s just going to ignore Mitch. 

Except he can’t. Because he’s the only thing that makes sense right now. Apparition alpha from what is now the future following Stiles is far easier to handle than Scott having asthma, or Lydia Martin being the “dumb, pretty queen bee”, or Jackson acting like a jackass again. Because how on earth is he supposed to deal with this. 

Being back in this space, this mindset, even if he has his future abilities and thoughts, is messing with his head. And what he thought he knew. 

Stiles had been in love with Lydia at this point in time, or at least he thought he was. But then she grew as a person, became kinder and less afraid to show who she really was. She became confident, really confident, not just armor, and understood her power. This one didn’t have that. This one acted shallow, probably is a bit shallow, and was quite frankly a bit mean. Stiles still loves her, just not this her. And not in the same way. 

But he still has to act like it. Act like he is lovesick. He’s hoping he can edge it off a bit, make it so it’s a natural transition, but right now he can’t do that. 

And he can’t even talk to anybody about it. He could, he supposes, make up a lie for Scott that’s close enough to the truth that he might feel better or get some advice, and this Scott isn’t Allison-ified yet so he would actually listen to Stiles. But he just can’t bring himself too. There’s just this detachment there. This isn’t his Scott, but at the same time, it is. Because this is the happy one before all his choices got taken away. This is also the nervous and unsure one who isn’t an Alpha in any retrospect, werewolf, or normal. 

And Stiles is out of water in every way. 

Except for Mitch. Who he very much hates, no matter how ridiculously attractive he is. (Stiles has eyes, okay? The alpha is hot. But personality more than negates that) 

Because he knows. Mitch knows what’s going to happen. He knows what Stiles is going through, at least in the physical retrospect. Mitch knows things about his life that Stiles didn’t even know, which should freak him out but instead just makes it easier to accept Mitch being there. Stiles doesn’t have to act a certain way, or not speak about a certain thing, or avoid certain topics because Mitch already knows that it’s fake. Even in the present, Mitch had known things that Stiles didn’t tell people. CIA or FBI or whatever. How they knew Stiles is curious about, but he doesn’t really care right now. 

And that makes Mitch hateable and likable at the same time. Because he is so annoying, but he’s annoying in a way that’s just annoying. Not painful. Interacting with anything in this town, especially in this past, feels like a hot knife going through various body parts. Being with Mitch just makes Stiles want to bang his head against the wall. 

So when Scott gives him concerned puppy eyes, or his dad asks him why he’s being so quiet, or when he has to drive around town, be in the school, see Coach Finstock, heck, when Greenburg does something stupid that really shouldn’t be painful in any way but second-hand embarrassment, Stiles can just look for the Alpha shadow that he has. He doesn’t let Mitch know that he looks for him, but Stiles still does. 

So Stiles hates Mitch. But he can’t. And that pisses him off because he totally should be able to. 

Mitch, admittedly, is not focusing very hard on the papers in his hand. He can’t help it when every few minutes his eyes flick up to the illuminated house down the block. The Stilinski household looks a bit different then in the photos he had been given, but Mitch can’t be sure if that was faulty photography, the bad lighting, or the timing difference. Maybe a mix of all three. 

He sighs in frustration, letting his head thump back against the headrest. He closes his eyes for a minute, letting cool air from the rentals’ vents brush over him. He never got the hype over the whole “new car smell” thing. To him it always smells impersonal, lacking the nuances of scent that people just generally had. 

Mitch shakes his head, going back to reread the same passage for the fourth time. He is just starting to retain the information when the door opens behind him. He tenses, hand not holding the papers slipping down to the gun he had hidden between the door and the chair. He keeps the casual position, not wanting to show he’s taken by surprise. 

The smell of lavender and woods after a long rain, with a hint of something acidic, assaults his senses. Mitch keeps the papers but lets his hand relax its hold on the gun. To be honest, he is a tad surprised. Mitch has been very obvious about following Stiles during the day, irritatingly so, but these night visits not as much. Secretive, almost. More erratic with the schedule, sometimes not coming, sometimes only staying for a little while, switching cars constantly, things like that. Not even the Sheriff had noticed.

But here Stiles is. Mitch hadn’t seen any doors open and hadn’t seen him coming. He could have climbed through the window easily enough, had plenty of times, but did he climb through backyards? Run quickly enough over while Mitch was distracted? Have a secret underground tunnel that he had dug beneath Mitch’s car with precognition of him parking in this exact spot? Anything could have happened. 

“We’re getting curly fries,” Stiles is sitting in the middle of Mitch’s backseat, looking for all the world like he owns the place. It’s hard to make out the exact details of his face from just the periphery of his vision, and Mitch isn’t giving Stiles the satisfaction of looking at him. Not yet, at least. 

“Are we now.” Mitch turns the page in the file, knowing the lack of urgency would be annoying to Stiles, which is exactly what he wants, but Mitch doesn’t want to outright ignore him either. (That would just set Stiles off. And not in the fun way.) Stiles glares at him, and Mitch notices the black holes under his eyes. Raccoon would be generous. 

“I can’t sleep, I don’t feel like driving, and you are going to be sitting outside my house like a stalker anyways,” Stiles huffs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Mitch looks back at him leisurely. 

“So we’re getting curly fries. And a milkshake. And cheese curds. Not because I want them-” Stiles waves his arms around, emphasizing his point- “but because you’re an alien and I can’t believe you’ve never had them before.” Mitch raises an eyebrow at that, not even bothering to restrain the slight smirk in place. Still not saying anything. 

“So get going, Alpha! We don’t got all night,” Stiles gestures again, exasperated. Mitch narrows his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips deepening. Stiles is quite possibly the only Omega- scratch that, the only person he knows who throws around classifications like it's nothing. Mitch stares at him for a moment more, letting the silence stretch, before nodding, turning back around. 

“Alright,” He responds lightly, pushes the car into drive, moving his hands to the wheel. He starts driving to the diner just outside of town, not needing Stiles to clarify. Mitch remembers the very erratic rant of ‘The one in town always puts too much salt, and they are soggy. Not to mention the absolute abhorrent treatment of their omega and beta waitstaff-’ it had lasted a solid four minutes. Mitch was mildly impressed by Stiles’s lack of need for air. If Stiles notices the fact that Mitch had been listening he doesn’t point it out. 

“Put your seatbelt on,” Mitch takes the turn out of the neighborhood, not bothering to be sneaky. Not like it would do much if someone was suspicious of them anyhow.

“...What?” Stiles shifts, eyebrows furrowed. Mitch rolls his eyes, something he’s sure Stiles can see. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” Stiles blinks at him like he seriously can’t believe the travesty that is Mitch telling him to put on his seatbelt. He glances back and forth between the back of Mitch’s head and the seatbelt incredulously. Mitch almost laughs at the dramatics. 

“I’m not three. It isn’t that far away,” Stiles scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back in a way that contradicts his previous age statement. 

“I don’t care, put it on,” Mitch fans his hands out on the wheel, shrugging. “My car, my rules.” It’s Stiles's turn to roll his eyes. But he does it, scooching to the side behind Mitch and pulling out the seatbelt a tad aggressively. Mitch smirks again when it clicks into place, glancing into the mirror to fully appreciate that Stiles is giving him a ‘There, you happy?’ glare. 

They sit in silence for long enough that Mitch starts discreetly checking every so often that the teenager is still alive. Mitch doesn’t like seeing him this still. Stiles is looking out the window, face dark. The streetlights occasionally run over his face, but it doesn’t add any light to his eyes. They come upon the station. 

It, too, looks different than the photos Mitch had seen before they got sent back. But structurally, as opposed to just the general feel. They must have taken the explosion as an opportunity to redecorate. Mitch is glad they did, this is a bit of an eyesore. He checks in again, this time from the side mirror. As far as Mitch has seen, Stiles hasn’t been actively avoiding the place. But he wasn’t going out of his way to go there either. The grimace on his face attests to as much. 

Mitch flicks on his blinker, the older car doing it with a strange click that brings back some odd nostalgic memories. “So.” Mitch starts, coming up on the stoplight, braking. “What does your dad think of you sneaking out your window in the middle of the night with strange men?” He turns around fully this time, having ample opportunity with the slow light that only seemed to exist in small towns. 

Stiles startles, looking at him, obviously forgetting Mitch was even there. He watches as the words register, resulting in a frown and a slightly heated glare.  

“Shut up,” Stiles mumbles, reaching forward and snatching the (confidential, mind you) files from the passenger seat. Mitch doesn’t even bother trying to get them back, turning back to the road with a small smile that he makes sure Stiles can’t see as they keep driving on the backstreets of Beacon Hills. 

“Who even tries to kill anyone with a spork?” Stiles says, sounding so unimpressed Mitch snorts, taking the next exit. He almost misses the quiet. 

Stiles stares at his ceiling. His ceiling, the rude piece of shit it is, stares back. Or maybe he’s just tired. He’s not entirely sure. He turns to the side, his alarm clock bright in the dark. Three am is not a new time for Stiles, not since middle school, but he can’t help but feel restless. He’s never bought into the propaganda that omegas need to always have some type of alpha presence with them, whether it be an alpha themself or an article of clothing. But that is what pops into his head. It’s bullshit, painting it as though omegas are weak and need the stronger alpha to come save them, when in reality alphas need that type of contact too, not to mention it excludes betas. Most people, Stiles included, would just roll their eyes at it. But… well, you’ll believe anything if it’s early enough in the morning. So Stiles considers it a possibility. 

Mostly, though, he thinks he just got used to having the presence. 

Scott and Stiles had been stealing clothes from the other long before presenting, and Scott was just a tactile person in general. Too tactile, sometimes, but that was more of a Stiles thing. Malia had been more than happy to lend him sweaters or jackets or whatever other things he could want, sometimes even wearing his clothes around long enough for them to smell like her before giving them back. Lydia had on more than one occasion ushered him away to braid her hair or help her with research, often making a night out of it. Betas, alphas, other omegas, they all made up the whole pack. And while they had had their issues, it was theirs. And they tried to be there for each other, without even realizing it sometimes. 

But now that doesn’t even exist. And might not even exist, if Stiles messes this up. It certainly won’t exist in the same way even if he doesn’t. He stops that thought process before it even starts. He had already nearly spiraled down that slope, he doesn’t need to do it again. Stiles does, however, allow himself to acknowledge that he is in a very different and, yeah okay, kinda hard situation. He could call Scott, but it’s not like it’d do much. Scott hasn’t presented yet in this timeline, and wouldn’t even know what to do here. Most of the pack Stiles hasn’t met yet. Malia is probably still in the woods. And Lydia doesn’t even know he exists, let alone like him. 

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s doing as he grabs his phone from his side table, but his body is on autopilot. He opens his messages, hovering over the third one down. 

Ah. So that’s what he’s doing. It doesn’t elude him that this is now the second time he is going to Mitch after a near spiral, even if the standoff-ish alpha isn’t aware of it. Stiles, however, is choosing to ignore that fact. He clicks on the contact. He’s so tired he’s in that stage where he isn't tired anymore. His favorite mind cycle. 

‘mitch? r u awake?’

Stiles nearly types ‘u up?’ but catches himself before he does. Everyone knows that that is universal hook up language. Stiles had spent way too much time explaining that to first Scott, then later to Liam. He’s just lucky that Malia had figured it out for herself. Stiles sits up to grab his computer to Wikipedia random things until school time when his phone buzzes. He does not jump for his phone, though a small instinct tells him to. 

‘I’m always awake. What’s going on?’ 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. Of course, Mitch would be the “proper texter” type. And of course, he automatically assumes there’s danger. Though, considering their situation and just Stiles as a person, it's not a bad instinct. 

‘nothin, just awake and angry at the world XP’

Stiles sends the text without really thinking about it, though a curl of anxiety goes through his gut. It’s a rather familiar way of texting. As though they’re friends. Are they friends? The label doesn’t seem to fit right, but it’s not like strangers fit either. Acquaintances is far too impersonal, as are coworkers. So Stiles guesses that friends it is now...? Label issues aside, even if they are friends, they certainly aren’t the type to text at 3 in the morning for no reason. Or even text. (Seriously, are they friends?) But Stiles’ phone buzzes again all the same. 

‘When are you not angry at the world?’ 

And as quickly as the worry came it disappears. Stiles can practically hear the teasing tone that Mitch loves to use to annoy him. He types out a response, leaning back against the headboard. 

‘when im asleep’ 

Stiles doesn’t even fully close out of the app before a response pops up. 

‘...Fair. However, I would like to point out that that is a bit of a paradox.’ 

Stiles snorts, shaking his head. 

‘how? show me the proof’ 

The typing bubble pops up again. Stiles sends his phone a disbelieving smile. “What is even happening?” His voice is loud in the still room, but the house is empty right now so he doesn’t mind. He looks up at the ceiling again. “I don’t suppose you have an answer.” The ceiling, once again, just ignores him. Go figure.

‘You are mad at the world all the time, except for when you’re asleep. You being awake equals you being mad at the world. These two points are not mutually exclusive. And yet they share a common factor. You said that you are not mad at the world when you’re asleep, but that does not work as the world does not exist in its same format as in dreams. Most people don’t even remember their dreams. So you could be mad at the world, and it still won’t be the same as when you’re awake. So by saying that you are contradicting yourself.’ 

Stiles stares down at the screen. Reading and rereading the words. They don’t compute but somehow are written in such a way that Stiles thinks it should make sense. He types out a catch-all response, just in case he doesn’t get it. It feels vaguely like judgment, so he just goes with that. 

‘ok, dr phil. but thats not a paradox’ 

Stiles hopes it isn’t, at least. It’s a 50/50 chance that Mitch is messing with him. He tries reading it again, just to double-check. 

‘Then what would you call it?’ 

Stiles pauses at that. He gets up, moving across the room to his desk. He opens his laptop, waiting for the incredibly slow loading screen. He misses his old(new?) tech. He’s just lucky his phone works the same. He tries to find an answer, but after two minutes he gives up.

‘idk. but not that’ 

He keeps going through the websites that come up, even daring to go to the second page. He stops, though, at the pop-up message that links through his computer. 

‘You’re googling it right now, aren’t you?’ 

Stiles feels that textual eye roll to the very core of his being. He pouts at the screens since no one is there to see it anyways. 

‘noooooo’

‘...maybe’

Stiles gets up again, the laptop is momentarily forgotten. He is not pacing, waiting for his phone. He is not. It just helps him think, and he has to prove Mitch wrong. 

‘Mmhm. Sure. Whatever you say.’ 

Stiles scoffs at his phone, because seriously? 

‘u dont get to sarcastically text, thats my job’

And okay, maybe that’s a tad childish, but give him a break. Mitch started it anyhow, Stiles had just been trying to complain. 

‘Oh really? I wasn’t aware you owned sarcasm. I’m terribly sorry, I’ll correct it right away.’ 

Stiles narrows his eyes. Now who’s being childish? 

‘stop’

Stiles doesn’t know if he actually wants Mitch to stop or not, but he has a feeling that Mitch has the upper hand in this conversation so he’s going to say it anyway. How do you gain the upper hand in messaging? (Probably by being Mitch.) 

‘Stop what? I am simply giving you a response. Shall I stop texting?’ 

Stiles stops his pacing, blinking at his phone. Okay, passive-aggressive sarcasm. Didn’t know Mitch could do that. Except Stiles did, because Mitch has done it multiple times. 

‘oh it is on, rapp’ 

Though this feels different. More playful, less antagonizing. 

‘If I remember correctly, you started this.’ 

Stiles does not smile at his phone. He doesn’t. He looks out his window, considering. His room feels too small. And if he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t want to even really be here right now. Stiles makes his way over to his window, opening the pane all the way. He had pushed the screen layer out when he first came back, so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Like now, when he is climbing up onto the ledge of his roof. Stiles knows it isn’t safe, he just doesn’t particularly care. 

‘so u admit that there is a “this”’

Stiles settles back against the shingles, his legs spread out. It feels more comfortable then it has any right to. He looks up at the stars. If there ever were upsides to Beacon Hills, the sky would be near the top of the list. 

‘You’re incorrigible.’ 

Adjective. Not being able to be corrected, improved, or reformed. A fancy word for pain in the ass. 

‘dont try to out nerd the nerd. you will fail’

Mitch might know some words, and be pretty good at sarcasm when he wants to, but he isn’t Stiles. He has been able to sass back better than anyone since before he figured out what it was. 

‘I repeat your early statement. Bring it on, Stilinski.’ 

Stiles grins. 

‘did u know that dolphins have two stomachs and never chew their food?’ 

Hyperfixation from 7th grade after his history teacher called them stupid. He never liked that teacher and proved her wrong with a four-page paper on the mammal. The look on Mrs. Mags’s face was well worth the failed grade. She was far too salty about being shown up by a 13-year-old. 

‘Bubblegum is made from the same material as car tires.’ 

Stiles purses his lips. That’s actually an interesting fact. Gross. But interesting. The exact kind of fact Stiles loved. Or does love? Time is confusing. 

‘Orcas r dolphins.’ 

He had been hoping to save this one as a showstopper, having debated back and forth with his Dad, Melissa, and Scott. But Mitch is proving to be better than he thought. 

‘What? No way.’

Stiles shifts his leg up, holding his phone against it. A light breeze runs past him, the cool air waking him up that last bit. 

‘yes way. they’re in the dolphinae family. according to all scientists ever, that makes them dolphins’ 

5th-grade science teacher had a hard-on for Carl Linneaus and made them memorize the classification system as well as the proper way to classify different animals. 

‘They are called killer whales.’ 

Stiles grins. Hook, line, and sinker. 

‘mistranslation. they were originally seen killing whales, were called “whale killers” but because language is stupid and no one bothers to properly learn it, it was written as “killer whale”. fyi, they are carnivorous not omnivorous’ 

It takes Stiles longer to type this then he is proud of, but it’s still sent in less than four minutes. So he’s counting it as a win. 

‘Fascinating. But I sense a sensitive subject. You have a thing for mistranslations?’ 

Stiles narrows his eyes because Mitch is obviously going somewhere with this. 

‘maybe. why?’

Mitch’s typing bubble is up for a few minutes before disappearing again. Stiles hesitantly clicks out of the messaging app. He goes to settings, changing his passcodes again. 

‘Then you must hate the idea of Martians.’ 

Stiles blinks down at his phone. Consider his interest peaked. He looks back at his settings. He clicks on Sounds. Mitch hasn’t called him yet, having no need to due to being constantly around(read: shadowing) Stiles, but Stiles still feels as though he needs a special ringtone. Stiles looks through what he has. The Mission Impossible theme would be just to the left of funny on-the-nose, and to the right of cheesy. He clicks through a few more songs, letting them play for some time while he waits for Mitch to explain. 

‘In 1877, an Italian astronomer named Giovanni Schiaparelli wrote that there appeared to be canali on Mars. Later, when reread, it was interpreted to mean canals and sent everyone scrambling to identify the life on Mars that could have made these canals. Except the ​Italian word canali is just a general term to describe ​channels, which can be part of the natural terrain and not necessarily man-made. The idea of life on Mars, however, has long outlived the legend of this mistranslation.’ 

‘Can your orcas beat that?’ 

Stiles lets out a startled laugh. Because that is quite possibly the last thing he expected Mitch to know. He looks up at the sky, imagining he can see Mars even though geographically he can’t. He goes back to settings, clicking on Diva by Beyonce. Mitch would never have to know. 

‘ok, maybe not. u are a worthy opponent, young padawan.’ 

He rifles through his mental index of facts, which is vast, while waiting for Mitch to respond. Stiles still doesn’t know exactly what it is that they are doing.

‘I’m older than you. And I still haven’t seen Star Blares, or whatever it’s called.’ 

Stiles huffs, because how dare Mitch. 

‘u know its called Star Wars u heathen’ 

The response is lightning fast this time. The jerk probably knew what Stiles was going to say and pre-typed it beforehand. 

‘You’re the one who challenged me. If you want to forfeit, I’ll gladly take the win.’ 

Stiles glares at his phone. Mitch is so not allowed to win. He types faster, letting his phone take care of the typos. 

‘why did the chicken cross the mobius strip’ 

Stiles never thought it would come to this, but Mitch has forced his hand. 

He is resorting to science puns. 

‘Why?’ 

He took the bait. Now Stiles must catch the fish. A sneaky, unfairly hot alpha fish. But fish have gills, and those are weird, so hah! 

‘to get to the same side. what do u do with a sick chemist’ 

Stiles is not going to slow down; this is his battle, and he has years of research on Mitch on this one. Though technically it’s fewer years than it would have been in the present. But mentally it’s still the same. Kinda. Time travel is weird, okay? 

‘What do you do?’  

Stiles takes some time to spell the names correctly. Okay, yes, he spell-checks his chemicals but not his everyday texts. Sue him. 

‘if u can’t helium, and u can’t curium, then u might as well just barium’ 

‘two chemists walk into a bar. one asks for h2O. the other asks for h2O too. the 2nd one dies’

Stiles laughs a bit at his own jokes. He waits for a response but types his last joke in the notes app so Mitch can’t see that he has another one. Stiles wants it ready to go. He can’t let up now, Stiles has the alpha right where he wants him. 

‘Those are awful. A play on words stopped being clever years ago.’ 

“As if! And besides, we time traveled, so even if it was true, it isn’t anymore!” Stiles grumps to the sky. It is as just unresponsive as his ceiling, but it’s pretty so Stiles isn’t going to get annoyed with it. 

‘heisenberg and schrodinger get pulled over for speeding. the cop asks heisenberg "do you know how fast you were going?" heisenberg replies "No, but we know exactly where we are!" the officer looks at him, confused, and says "you were going 108 miles per hour!" heisenberg throws his arms up and cries "great! now we're lost!" the officer looks over to the car and asks schrodinger if the two men have anything in the trunk. "a cat", schrodinger replies. the cop opens the trunk and yells “hey! this cat is dead." schrodinger angrily replies “well he is now!"’ 

Stiles clicks send, his phone taking a minute to do it with his poor connection. He clicks out of his messages once again, before just turning his phone off. He relaxes back, letting the sound of his neighborhood seep back into his focus. A dog is barking somewhere in the distance, and that is far more calming than pure silence. Stiles doesn’t even realize he started to doze off until his phone buzzes again. 

Stiles shakes his head, blinking to clear his vision. He reluctantly heads back inside of his room, it being even more stuffy than before. His phone buzzes once again. Stiles clicks it open, moving out of the website on Omegas he had been looking at his messages once again. 

‘That is in poor taste. They would both dislike that representation of their theories.’ 

‘Stiles?’ 

Stiles smirks, leaning back against his headboard. 

‘still here. u know u loved it’ 

It had taken Mitch longer than Stiles had expected to respond, but he’s going to chalk that up to it being late and the fact that he’s probably doing something. And besides, he doesn’t want to have to go to bed yet, and if this isn’t here he won’t have a distraction. 

‘Go to sleep, Stilinski’ 

Damnit. Super CIA powers telling Mitch things again. 

‘im fiiiiiinnnneeee. now look whos forfeiting’

Powers of distraction…?

‘You have school in the morning. And we can call it a draw.’ 

Failed. Attempting a second try, using teasing. 

‘careful mitch, it seems like u care. that’s not allowed. and neither are ties’ 

Hopefully, this would be an incentive for Mitch to keep texting. Or stop in annoyance, giving Stiles something to feel smug about. Both are equally appealing at this point in time, which is actually surprising since Stiles loves one-upping people with general over talkativeness. But he’s having fun. 

‘dolphins only sleep with half their brain. let’s just be dolphins.’ 

It’s a protection maneuver to make sure predators can’t get them, and also so they can keep breathing. And yeah, Stiles thinks that sounds incredibly useful. 

‘Dolphins also never chew their food. So I guess that fits.’ 

Stiles grins, victorious. Ignoring the insult because he has outsmarted Mitch this time- 

‘But you still have to turn that half of your brain off.’ 

Stiles sighs, giving in. (Damn. It.) Which gives him more indication than anything else that he should sleep. 

‘dolphins are also supposed to be friendly to humans and animals, so i guess we dont have to follow all the rules’ 

He slides down so he’s laying on his side, flipping the pillow to the cold side. 

‘this doesnt mean u win.’ 

Stiles may be listening, but he is adding in as many digs as possible to make up for not digging his feet in the ground. 

‘Alright, you can win; but I will be calling for a rematch at another point.’ 

Stiles stares at the text for a while. He smiles, small but genuine. He wishes he could say it is because of zoning out, or the fact that Mitch has agreed that he’s won, but he can’t. The idea of some type of commitment, that promise of later, it’s something that Stiles isn’t used to. Not from anyone, least of all Mitch. 

‘ok sore loser. i expect more facts. until u creepy stalk tomorrow, dolphin henchman #3’

Stiles needs to go to bed because he’s 90% sure his ceiling laughed at that one. Or maybe it’s just apologizing for being rude earlier. Stiles clicks his phone off, setting it down. He’s drifting off, mind low enough on the volume setting that he can crash when his phone buzzes twice. He looks at the pop-up, not moving. 

‘Night, Stiles.’ 

‘PS. Dolphins are the only other mammals that have sex for pleasure besides humans’ 

Stiles’ face does not heat up. It doesn’t.

Meanwhile, in a hotel halfway across town, Mitch is realizing that he is very screwed as he looks back and snorts at the horrendous puns Stiles sent. There is no way this is going to end well. 

Stiles turns the page on his print-out, side-eyeing the pissed off man beside him. Mitch had been talking all afternoon. Which was not normal, in the least. Not I’m-trying-to-piss-you-off-talking, or I-know-something-you-don’t-talking, or even I’m-going-to-confuse-you-by-being-concerned-or-playful talking. Just keeping to the details of what they are working on. 

They had agreed to meet in Mitch’s hotel room, where Mitch had been setting up a string board that would make high school Stiles proud. Which Stiles is now, but that’s beside the point. Stiles had been telling him where to put things and important plot points that they still have to somehow keep while changing others. Just overall hijacking Mitch’s operation. Surprisingly, instead of telling Stiles to knock it off, he had told him to just come and do it himself so they could actually get something done. 

Stiles had been a bit awkward about it, actually having gotten enough sleep to lose a little bit of I-don’t-give-a-fuck, but that quickly went out the window and crashed onto the pavement when he started interacting with Mitch. Also known as acting so sour it could make Derek jealous. Mitch grumpy is something Stiles is not used to, so it was actually entertaining for a little while. It stopped pretty quickly, and now Stiles just wants to figure out what the heck is going on. 

“What’s going on, Mitch?” Stiles asks cautiously, as cautiously as he can anyway, trying to be casual. 

“Nothing,” Mitch practically growls out, turning back to the box. (Really trying to make Derek jealous, geez.) 

“Well obviously it’s not nothing, you practically punched the board ten minutes ago,” Stiles points out, going for reasonable. Mitch looks at him like he’s being completely unreasonable. Stiles is hit with serious déjà vu. 

“I’m assuming you still are going to play lacrosse to keep up appearances and help Scott, so you’ll have to decide how to play off suddenly being good at the game or figure out how to hide it,” Mitch puts the stack of files down, moving around the table opposite of Stiles. The edge to Mitch’s voice is obvious and would be obvious even to Scott. Maybe even obvious to Scott when he’s love-brained, which is seriously saying something. 

“Okay, look, I’m a huge believer in ignoring the problem until it goes away, it’s practically my life motto. It will probably be on my headstone, maybe even the cause of death. But you being like this is wigging me out, so I’m gonna say no on that,” Stiles rambles out the explanation, perfectly aware that Mitch might just choose to not understand him. 

“You ‘wig-out’ at any type of change in behavior. There’s nothing to say no to,” Mitch bites out, the jab whizzing past Stiles's ear. It was just an inch away from hurting, which was two miles closer than Mitch usually did. Ten miles closer, as of late. 

“Yeah, well, that didn’t stop Hamilton,” Stiles says back, glaring. There’s no real heat behind the move, but it seems that this is what is going to work right now. Subtlety was never Stiles forte anyways. 

“Leave it, Stilinski. I’m just fine,” Mitch stomps (yes, stomps) over to the kitchenette, grabbing the coffee mug to make more. Stiles is reminded of a little kid, which is so not a helpful comparison right now. 

“I’m calling bullshit. You haven’t called me ‘Stilinski’ in weeks,” Stiles moves over with him, letting the papers flutter down on the desk, keeping at least somewhat of a distance. 

Mitch pauses while at the machine, tense. Because Mitch hadn’t called him that, had he? Maybe teasingly, but it was just another nickname now, last names something to throw at each other. Stiles didn’t even really realize it until it was out of his mouth, but it’s true. Mitch resumes moving, movements even harsher than before. 

“Well, we’ve been stuck here for nearly 4 months now with no progress. We couldn’t even make progress if we wanted to, since we were thrown back too early. Not to mention that we only have a vague idea of what we want to do, which makes it even harder,” Mitch seems to be listing every problem but the one he’s having. Stiles is better at analyzing than people give him credit for, and avoidance is an old friend of his. 

“Yeah, we have. And yeah, that sucks. Hasn’t bothered you before, though. Why now?” Stiles meant it, he’s going to call Mitch on this. He advances forward, moving around the counter. Mitch leaves his cup, turning to face Stiles. He crosses his arms, which Stiles mirrors. 

“Why not now? Why can’t I just be realizing that this is harder than we thought?” Mitch is being some mix of sarcastic and defensive, but Stiles can see it. He actually wants to know why Stiles isn’t believing this. Or maybe why Mitch isn’t believing it. Or maybe Stiles had too much Adderall. 

“You can. But that isn’t what’s going on, is it?” Stiles takes another step forward. Mitch looks down, pursing his lips. So Stiles is right. Good, because he has had enough of being wrong. Stiles uncrosses his arms. He slowly makes his way the rest of the seven feet between them, making sure Mitch can see him. Mitch doesn’t react until he’s right in front of him. 

“What are you doing?” Mitch’s voice is quiet, an almost whisper. He doesn’t move back from Stiles though, Just moves his head. 

“Just- let me try something, okay?” Stiles is quite literally asking Mitch to trust him. Granted, it’s not like Stiles has any weapons and Mitch could definitely stop him even if he did, but that’s still an incredibly blunt statement. Enough that it doesn’t surprise Stiles when Mitch hesitates. 

Mitch nods. 

Stiles doesn’t think too hard about it. 

He reaches his hand up, Mitch watching it out of the corner of his eye, still hunched, but not moving away. Stiles puts it on his shoulder, pausing for just a moment because they haven’t really deliberately touched like this, and even if they had this is different. Then he pulls Mitch in. 

Stiles can’t tell if it’s surprise or adrenaline drop or some strange mix of the two, but Mitch goes easily. There is a slight height difference between them, which hadn’t occurred to Stiles until now. It works pretty well for the hug. (Holy heck he’s hugging Mitch what the actual hell is he thinking?) 

It’s awkward, Mitch still crossing his arms while Stiles has only one hand around Mitch’s shoulders. He expects him to pull away, or even maybe punch him, but nothing happens for a few seconds that feel like an actual eternity. Stiles is pretty sure dying of embarrassment is in fact possible.

Mitch hugs him back. His arms uncross, moving so they are resting on Stiles’s lower back. Stiles is the shocked one now, but he doesn’t let that show, just moving his hands so they go under Mitch’s arms. They stay that way for a second, neither of them entirely sure what to do. 

Stiles internally scoffs. This is a hug. Stiles may not be great at people, but he knows how to do this. He wraps his hands tighter around Mitch’s shoulder blades, moving his head so it’s a little less stiff. Mitch moves along with him, Stiles initiating the move making it easier to pull him closer, resting his head on Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles’s mind wanders to the fact that everyone goes to the left for kisses and hugs. 

And it’s easy. It should continue to be weird, or uncomfortable, or have an urge to pretend this never happened, but it isn’t. Not for Stiles. They just stay that way. It’s almost natural, when Mitch moves his head to the side, the space behind Stiles’s ear right there. 

Stiles had gotten used to a lot of scenting, what with living with tactile people, tactile werewolves no less. Most of the time, it was saved for family or partners, maybe friends, who hadn’t seen each other in a long, long time or, very rarely, needed comfort after something awful(Like, funeral awful). Werewolves, however, used it as a way to more deeply gauge how others are feeling. As a fond gesture to say good job. Heck, they use it as a friendly hello. Stiles had spent a lot of the last 4-5 years of his life being scented and scenting since even the humans in his life had picked it up. 

So it’s automatic to scent back, even if Mitch was probably doing it accidentally. Mitch startles, just a little bit, small enough that Stiles wouldn’t see it if they weren’t in such close proximity. But this is just another boundary they’re breaking. The time barrier wasn’t enough, apparently. 

Stiles gets that tinge of anger from Mitch’s scent, a light tang that Stiles can almost taste. 

It’s pretty hard to get emotions from scent, and Stiles didn’t like to do it or have it done to him. Which is why having Scott and everyone else suddenly able to do it like it’s nothing, without touching him, even being able to do it across the room, had pissed him off. It can be an invasion of privacy.

But all Stiles is wondering is what Mitch is getting from his scent. Stiles doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. They stay for a few more seconds, before pulling away. Stiles knows that his face is probably a bit red(Okay, a lot red), but if Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say Mitch looks a bit flushed as well. Could just be the lighting. Stiles, clears his throat, moving back to the counter and picking up his own forgotten mug. Tea, instead of coffee. 

“It would probably help more if I could actually be on the field during lacrosse games so I can help Scott, at least in the beginning, but I’m going to need an excuse,” Stiles takes it over to the files again. Ignore the problem until it goes away. (Except this isn’t a problem, is it?) 

“Right, of course. Maybe say you’ve been training? Could also be a plausible excuse for you to sneak out more,” Mitch finishes brewing whatever it is he decided to make. His voice is a bit rough, a bit quieter than it needs to be. Stiles doesn’t know if this is him letting Stiles take the lead, or making his own decision to ignore it, but either way, they aren’t dealing with this. 

Stiles is really going to have to deal with this soon. 

Stiles isn’t answering his phone. This should not worry Mitch. Except it does, because he can’t find Stiles. That shouldn’t really worry Mitch either, considering the fact that Stiles knows how to lose someone when he wants too, and Mitch is no exception. Except so far Stiles hasn’t given Mitch the slip. Told him to go away, ignored him, or bantered back and forth with him to try to annoy him away, yes. Actually disappeared? No. 

Mitch has been in his car driving around as inconspicuous as he can, but he hasn’t seen Stiles anywhere. So yeah, he’s worried. 

He gets out of the car, parking at the corner of the street. He tries calling Stiles’ phone again, not caring that this is the 5th time in a row. He had given up on subtlety awhile ago. He likes Stiles, and that is going to end in disaster. But Mitch doesn’t want it to end in a disappearing of the face of the earth disaster, so he calls again. 

Voicemail. 

Mitch walks down the street, hurried, knowing that sometimes Stiles would run down here to clear his head. It’s midday, so a few people are out and about, but not many. Mitch considers calling out for Stiles before discarding the idea because of not wanting to draw too much attention, and even if Stiles did hear him, why would he respond? 

Mitch calls again, walking up onto the next block. 

He stops, looking up from his phone. He strains his ears, hearing faint music. 

‘I’m a diva, I’mma I’mma diva, I’m a diva, I’mma I’mma diva’ 

Mitch blinks, before taking off down the street towards the alley on the other side. There is only one person he knows who would use that obnoxious of a song for a ringtone, and it rhymes with Biles. 

He gets to the mouth of the alley, dark and smelling of dead things. But there’s also a hint of rain in the woods. 

“Stiles?” Mitch calls out now, a bit panicked. He moves down between the two buildings, going around a dumpster. 

There, leaning against a wall, is Stiles. Mitch runs forward now, shoving his phone in his pocket. 

“Stiles.” Mitch’s voice is quieter, crouching down in front of him, putting a hand on Stiles's neck to check for a pulse. Stiles moves, shaking awake on top of the shaking he already had. He doesn’t seem to be aware. His eyes are misty, and his breathing is still ragged. His neck is hot to the touch, and Mitch would bet anything that his head is even warmer. Stiles always ran cold, leftover from a lot of events in his life, and that stayed the same when they came back. Now though, he’s burning up. 

“Stiles.” Mitch's voice is insistent, a bit louder but not yet normal volume. Stiles seems to look up at him, foggy. His hands move up, almost vibrating. Mitch’s hand is still on his shoulder. Stiles’s breathing is still too fast, and he probably fell down from lack of air. If Stiles doesn’t start breathing normally it’s going to start to cause some problems. But he’s still unresponsive. 

“Alright, up,” Mitch looks back and forth around the alley before shifting to the side to pick Stiles up in a princess carry. Stiles murmurs lowly, but Mitch can’t understand it. He catches a few syllables, but not enough for it to make sense. 

He makes his way down the alley again, a hand under Stiles's legs and back. One of Stiles’s hands comes up to grasp Mitch’s shirt, the other limp. Mitch moves quickly, as quickly as he can carrying 147 pounds of dead weight without jostling him too much, and makes it to his car again. 

Mitch’s relatively sure that the lady on her balcony saw them, and considering how connected this town is she’s probably going to mention it to the Sheriff. He can’t think about that now though, not when something is up with Stiles. 

Mitch puts Stiles in the back seat, laying him down across the seats. This time Stiles’s murmur is legible as ‘seatbelt’. Mitch lets out a breath. If Stiles is still somewhat coherent, then Mitch can most likely handle it. Hopefully. 

Stiles feels strange. That’s the only word he feels can describe it. Strange. The last thing he remembers is waking up this morning feeling sick, and then some strange flashes of memory after that, but other than that, nada. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, feeling like there’s tape on them. Stiles does feel better than he did before, that much he can tell. 

Stiles forces his eyes open, prepared for bright light. Instead, it’s dark, with a warm orange tint everywhere. Like from a nightlight. Except Stiles doesn’t have a night light. And that is definitely not his ceiling. Stiles starts to sit up, looking around, when he notices the weights over his body. 

Wet towels, rags, and ice packs are covering pretty much every inch they can. His pant legs are rolled up, and his shirt is laying next to him. The assorted cold lumps feel great, but that doesn’t explain why they’re there. He takes them off, trying to get up again. His legs don’t seem cooperative. 

It doesn’t really matter though, since he hears the door opening. He tenses, looking up to see… Mitch. He looks around again. Yep, this is Mitch’s hotel room. Just in the bedroom, where Stiles hasn’t been. Same awful wallpaper though. That explains that mystery, but it still begs the question as to why exactly he’s here. 

“Mitch?” Oh heck, Stiles’s voice sounds wrecked. Mitch looks up, his brow creased. When he sees Stiles sitting up though, he doesn’t stay stationary for very long. 

“You’re awake,” Stiles is about to respond with something snarky when Mitch is hugging him. Words suddenly stop working, once again. They had gotten more casual with their touching, Stiles will only admit when feeling defensive, but randomly without a reason is new. And also, Stiles is shirtless. 

Mitch pulls back just as quickly as he had gone in, but Stiles is still feeling a little speech impaired. Luckily for him, Mitch is talking. 

“You had a really high fever. It’s gone down now, but it was too high for a while,” Mitch sits on the edge of the bed, once again a respectable distance away. 

Stiles’ tongue seems to be in a more agreeable mood now, so Stiles asks, “Hence the cold brigade, right. But that doesn’t explain why I’m here?” The light and the dark make soft contrasts over Mitch’s face, highlighting the angles of it. Not enough to make him look severe, just dramatic mood lighting. Stiles’s brain cannot figure out how it feels about that, so he focuses on slipping his shirt back on. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. You were in an alley, probably went in there, and then passed out. I brought you back here so I could figure out what was going on,” Mitch drops the rags and such on the side table, which he must have gathered without Stiles noticing. His legs are much more agreeable as well, so he brings them up, leaning his elbows against his knees. 

“Well, thank you for that,” Stiles tries to rack his brain for those memories but finds they just aren’t there. A swirl of panic goes through him at that. He hates being sick. Being out of control, so loopy you can’t remember, feeling awful, it all reminds him too much of the nogitsune. He focuses on the differences instead. The difference is he’s in a pretty nice hotel instead of a psych ward, he isn’t being possessed by an evil fox spirit, and it’s Mitch here instead of Malia. (Nope, not keeping that comparison. No siree. Next) 

“Careful, though. Might just think you care,” Stiles’ voice is teasing, hoping to move on from the heavy stuff. He’s had enough in the last lifetime, no need to do that in this one. 

He looks up at Mitch again. His eyes are darker in this light, more intense. Stiles means to come off as simply banter, but he can’t bring himself to smile with Mitch’s gaze on him. “I do care, Stiles,” Mitch’s eyes are imploring, his head cocked to the side, long hair falling onto his face. Mitch means it.

And that is exactly the last thing Stiles wants. 

Mitch has been practically the only thing keeping Stiles grounded in the present. Literally. It was stupid for him to think he wouldn’t get attached. And he is. Attached. But Mitch wasn’t supposed to care, that wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. Because Mitch has to be opposite Stiles. If they can’t find a way around the nogitsune and the ghost riders, or if Stiles himself goes too far, Mitch has to be the one to stop him. Stiles has to be the one to save everyone from everything else, and Mitch has to save them from Stiles. And Mitch caring is not a part of that equation. 

Stiles should look away. Should stop this. If not for the fact that this is a terrible idea, then for the fact that he can feel himself spiraling. He can feel that he has to bring himself out of this, but he can’t. He can’t look away, and he can’t stop. 

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t it have been something else, or for the nemeton to take his original deal? He’d sacrificed himself for his dad, and he’d do it for the pack too. But no. She had to send him back to try to fix every mistake that had happened and will happen and then she had to include Mitch in this situation who Stiles hadn’t even talked to before then but now they’ve spent six months working around each other and becoming friends except that label doesn’t really fit and now Stiles doesn’t know what he’s going to do-

Mitch is kissing him. 

Okay, that’s new. Stiles is shoved down the stairs and out the door of his thoughts, knocking the vase over on his way out. Mitch’s lips are firm and surprisingly soft, making Stiles aware of how chapped his are. Mitch is there and gone in a few seconds, much like the hug. It leaves Stiles blinking at him dumbly. 

“You were thinking really loud,” Mitch says in lieu of explanation for suddenly turning the world on its axis and making it pole dance. 

“What is it with people and using kisses to stop me from thinking?” Of course, Stiles says something stupid in response. His brain is on autopilot. And it is actually a question he wants to be answered, since this is the second time it’s happened. 

“What?” Mitch is the one to look confused now. Right, CIA magic files probably wouldn’t include dusty locker room kisses. Or maybe they do and Mitch just skipped it. He doesn’t know. 

“Nothing,” Stiles moves his head, trying to shake his thoughts back into an understandable order. “Just. Uh,” Stiles moves so he’s sitting cross-legged, hands resting in his lap. His eyes land on Mitch’s hands, one of which was touching his face a few seconds ago. It had felt cold on his cheek; whether the heat was from the kiss or his fever is unclear. 

“I think I have an idea for the plan,” Mitch says, interrupting Stiles' very different thoughts in a very different way. Stiles looks up again. 

“There is also ice cream in the mini-fridge, which is complimentary,” Mitch offers, trying and kinda succeeding at casual. He does better than Stiles would. Avoiding. Right. Something they are both experts at. Stiles can do that. 

“Any ideas are good. And you better have two tubs.” 

Mitch did not expect to spend his Wednesday night eating Ben & Jerry’s ice cream on the floor with Stiles looking over an old murder case file, but he certainly isn’t complaining. The victim is Laura Hale, also known as Derek Hale’s sister and current Alpha Hale. Because she isn’t actually a victim yet. That is still two months away when Peter Hale rips her in half. Graphically. 

“So. What’s your idea?” Stiles is looking over another case file about animal attacks in the next town over, seeing if any of them are possibly weres. It’s unlikely, but they have to check everything. 

“Right. So, Peter kills Laura. Derek comes back to bury her. Peter becomes Alpha. Alpha can bite people, and he bites Scott. Scott then meets Allison, who becomes friends with Lydia and Jackson, and in turn, you all have to spend some amounts of time together. Derek tries to help Scott, but instead, Allison then becomes Scott’s anchor. And so on. That is the start of pretty much everything, right?” Mitch is summarizing very roughly, but that’s as much as he has gathered. Stiles nods, licking leftover ice cream from his lips which is not distracting. At all. 

“I know you feel bad about having Scott’s choice taken from him again, but he needs to be a werewolf. You said so yourself. However, having Laura dead and Peter as Alpha complicates things heavily,” Stiles grimaces at Mitch’s words but has to agree. Too many people Scott and the others had saved would die otherwise. He nods at the part about Laura. 

“Yeah, but without Peter as Alpha Scott doesn’t become a werewolf. So we either have to let him kill Laura or we have to find another Alpha and let Peter kill them. Neither of which is great,” Stiles grumbles at the last part, stabbing his frozen chocolate mush pointedly with his spoon. 

“Well, do we?” Mitch asks, pausing for dramatic effect as Stiles looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. Mitch had been spending way too much time with him. “What if we get Laura to bite Scott? And then have them both help stop Peter?” Mitch asks, scooping some ice cream from his much less empty carton. Stiles eyebrows both raise, pure shock making him drop his spoon. 

“That’s- that’s such a good idea, oh my god,” Stiles sounds like he’s half impressed half pissed he didn’t think of it, which is a good combination in Mitch’s opinion. “But how would we get her to bite him? The whole point is kinda that she has better control, and I don’t think they were working on growing a pack,” Stiles adds on, excited at having at least a little bit of a breakthrough on their framework. 

“Well, we could try wolfsbane? A diluted version, so she wouldn’t just go crazy,” Mitch had researched a few different types of aconite, wanting to know what he could do for the bullets. Just in case, because Stiles would death glare at him if he said anything else. (One of the aconites had a historically notable aphrodisiac quality, and Mitch is glad that that only grows in Antarctica). 

“I guess, but what if she does go crazy and kills Scott instead of biting him? We can’t risk that,” Stiles shuts that idea down fast, the idea of having his friend in danger making it a no-go zone automatically. Mitch would want to risk it, but Stiles is calling the shots on this one. 

“Well, this might be crazy, but what if we talk to Laura?” Mitch picks up the paper next to him, having Derek and Laura’s New York address and phone numbers, as well as possible locations for Cora. 

“But the nemeton said we couldn’t tell anyone, remember?” Stiles frowns, picking up his spoon again. 

“No, she said we couldn’t tell anyone from the present. Laura was dead long before that present, so she doesn’t count,” Mitch grins, the loophole that the nemeton left suddenly. Stiles opens his mouth, closes it again, eyes wide. 

“She doesn’t count,” Stiles starts to grin as well. “She could help.” 

“If she believes us. And if she agrees,” Mitch reminds him, not wanting to get his hopes up. 

“Well yeah, but Mitch this could be a game-changer. It could be Laura who bites Scott and helps him with his training, Laura who deals with Kate, Laura who helps stop Peter, Laura who bites Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, Laura might just be my new favorite person and I haven’t even met her yet!” Stiles is definitely excited now. His hands are flailing about and he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Mitch directly anymore. 

Mitch smiles at Stiles, grabbing papers and writing things down, trying to figure out how to get Laura on their side. 

Stiles looks up again, a bright grin on his face. His eyes have a glint to them that they hadn’t before, an actual, solid plan making this situation seem just that little bit less hopeless. 

This time, Stiles is the one to kiss him. Mitch is glad he put everything down. He can taste chocolate on Stiles's lips and is sure that Stiles can taste the mint on his. They both pull away at the same time. Stiles is still smiling, just a bit more subdued. Mitch has a feeling they’re going to ignore this one too. 

Mitch gets up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants with a sigh. He looks down at Stiles and holds out a hand. 

“Let’s go get an Alpha, Stilinski,” Mitch just takes a second to once again acknowledge that this is the worst idea in the history of worst ideas. 

“Only alpha I need is you, Rapp.” 

Stiles takes his hand. 

Okay so some notes: My computer ate half my files and I had to rewrite some, but couldn’t do all, so if it seems choppy blame at least half of it on that. It’s also why there is way less ABO and plot things I wanted to have, but c’est la vie. I’ve never written Mitch before, it was fun! If you ready this far, happy birthday again! 

[princeescaluswords]

The thing about "Scott is a Good Friend" tag I hate is it never actually includes canon reasons for why Scott is a good friend. Instead, Scott is flattened to a barely recognizable character who exists purely to uplift Stiles and serve Derek faithfully. He never talks back or questions

Here is what being a good friend means for 75% of the stories with the “Scott is a Good Friend” tag. (Not all of them, of course, but enough that you can’t rely on the tag to find stories that talk about Scott’s and Stiles’s actual friendship.)

1.  Scott remains a beta.  Somehow, it seems, Scott becoming an alpha hurt his friendship with Stiles.  I’m being disingenuous; I know exactly why they connect his status to the trope.  Fanon Stiles’s point of view must prevail: Argents are bad, killing your enemies is good, Peter’s and Derek’s crimes are minimal, Stiles must call the shots in any relationship.  As long as Scott is a beta, he’s a follower – and the person he follows is either Stiles or Derek or sometimes even Peter.   A good friend, apparently, does as he is told.

2. Scott becomes part of Derek’s pack after recognizing that Derek only meant well.   Everything that Derek did – manipulation, lies, brutality – was done with good intentions.  Good intentions for whom, the stories seldom say.  At first, I had trouble wondering why this makes Scott a good friend, until I realized that most of these writers believe that the only reason Derek and Stiles didn’t get together was because they imagined that Stiles would be forced to choose between two alphas.

What’s funny with this is that the main argument is that Derek’s age and experience makes him the proper choice to be leader, even though his age and inexperience is also used to forgive his mistakes.   Interestingly and tellingly, Scott is seldom shown to have the same mentor relationship with Deaton as he does in the show.  It’s just not important for Scott to be a good friend to have his own path.

3. Scott pushes Stiles to date Derek and/or Peter.   Yeah, I know.  How pushing Stiles to date an unrepentant serial killer or an older straight man with huge issues concerning age of consent makes him a good friend, I can’t see.  It also frequently synergizes with 1. and 2., because Stiles must always date the alpha.

4. Scott keeps icky girls where they belong.  No matter who he’s dating, Scott never ever prioritizes Allison’s or Kira’s needs over literally anything.  Their relationships are never more complex than snuggling in the corner when the author wants to show they are present but not in the forefront.  Frequently, Scott makes sure that Stiles knows he’s far more important than anyone else, always.

5. Scott has no strong opinions or makes any significant decisions.  Scott instead serves as a rubber-stamp for most of Stiles’s decisions.  He certainly doesn’t demonstrate any leadership capabilities.  Even when Stiles wants to kill someone, Scott makes a couple of  simple-minded objections and then fades into the background.  

Essentially, the “Scott is a Good Friend” tag most often becomes what they really wanted from the show – a friendship that is essentially more one-sided than what we got.  Scott exists to serve Stiles’ needs, and Scott has no other really important role other than that.   Because it’s an answer to the question – why did you think Scott was a bad friend in the show?  Because Scott’s story had more priority in Seasons 1 and 2.  Stiles’ focus was on helping Scott, and even though he had his own wants and needs that were addressed, they weren’t the focus.  They forget that Scott’s story priority was because he had the most to lose: his freedom, his humanity, his life.   But that doesn’t matter when there’s a cute white boy in the picture.

[nightlight9]

Sterek Week 2019 Day Six: Canon Highlights

Scene: Derek hiding out in the Stilinski house, but they actually talk about it

Title: Safe With You

Summary: It’s a real shitty thing to think about in the middle of doing his math homework, but that’s when it occurs to Stiles that Derek is all alone. Everyone he loved, and everyone who has ever loved him are dead and gone. Peeking over his shoulder at Derek, Stiles’ stomach sinks. Settled amongst the pillows, he looks so much smaller than Stiles is used too. He swears that he can see bags under Derek’s eyes, and Stiles finds himself worried about how long it’s been since Derek got some actual sleep. 

-Or the one where Derek is a fugitive hiding out in the Stilinski house, but they actually talk about it. 

Rating: T

AO3

—————

Derek's fist curled into the collar of Stiles’ shirt is impossible to dislodge as he shoves him back against his door. Stiles feels his breath leave him in a huff and Derek presses his body in closer, his expression full of a fiery fury. He points at him, puncturing his threat as he says, “If you say one word-.”

Stiles shouldn’t say anything. He should know better by now to keep his mouth shut. But the look on Derek’s face isn’t enough to keep him quiet. “What like, ‘hey dad, Derek Hale’s in my room, bring your gun?’” His arm flairs out to the side, his only outlet for the restless energy making it hard to stand still, and Derek glowers at him. In spite of the situation and the threat, Stiles’ eyes droop down to look at Derek’s lips before meeting his gaze in an unwavering way.

After a moment, Derek drops his hand. His shoulders are relaxing, the only tell that he was actually afraid that Stiles would yell for his father. “Yeah, that’s right. If I’m harboring your fugitive ass, it’s my house,” he punctures that by slapping Derek on the chest with the back of his hand, “my rules, buddy.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Stiles regrets them. He’s in no position to be threatening a werewolf, regardless of whether or not his dad is just downstairs. His breath comes out in a rush as they stare at one another, neither of them giving in, both of them waiting for the other person to make the first move. 

Derek is the one who budges first. He nods, looking a little proud that Stiles actually stood up for himself. Uncurling his fist from his collar and stepping back, Derek fixes Stiles’ shirt. The absurdity of the situation makes Stiles laugh and he reaches out to do the same to Derek’s leather jacket before moving around him to get to his desk. Before he can fully escape though, Derek pushes his face forward into Stiles’ space, startling him. “Oh my Gods,” he mutters, falling over into his desk chair and glaring up at Derek, who has a small smirk curling his lips up. “You couldn’t just let me have that one, could you?”

Derek rolls his eyes, the hint of a smile disappearing as he moves over to Stiles’ bookshelf. “Shut up, Stiles,” he mutters, picking something to read and settling onto the bed with a huff. 

“Shut up, Stiles,” Stiles mimics, watching Derek with a scowl. “Hey, take your shoes off if you’re going to sit on the bed.”

Peering at him over the edge of the book, Derek glares. Stiles doesn’t think that he’s going to listen to him either, but he finally reaches down and undoes his boots, kicking them to the floor. 

Stiles watches him for a moment before he turns back to his computer. There’s so much that he needs to get done. He needs to finish his homework so that he doesn’t fail his classes. He has to come up with a way to convince Danny to help him track the text that Allison got so that he can figure out just who the hell the alpha is. Most importantly he needs to keep his best friend and his dad and probably Derek alive. 

It’s a lot, and he’s not sure he’s managing this whole werewolf thing very well. Actually, fuck that. He is taking this whole thing like a champ. He’s definitely doing a better job dealing with it than Scott is, seeing as Scott is literally fraternizing with the enemy while Stiles is trying to keep him alive. 

And Stiles gets it, he does. Allison is pretty great on her own, and Scott has never liked anyone like he does her. But she’s an Argent. He aunt murdered Derek’s family!

He stops in the middle of the math problem he’s been working through. As absurd as it sounds, Stiles has never actually stopped to think about the fact that all of Derek’s family is dead. Sure, he’s looked up the Hale file, and yeah he actually saw Laura’s body in the grave Derek dug for her. But he’s never stopped to actually think about it. Derek is all alone. Everyone he loves, everyone who has ever loved him, is dead. 

It’s a really shitty thing to think about in the middle of doing math homework. Peeking over his shoulder at Derek, Stiles’ stomach sinks. Derek has slumped over onto his side, curled into himself while he thumbs at the book. Settled amongst the pillows, he looks smaller than Stiles is used too, and there’s something about seeing Derek’s socks that makes him look fragile. He’s probably imagining it, but Stiles swears that he can see bags under Derek’s eyes, and he finds himself worried about when the last time Derek got some actual sleep.

Sensing Stiles’ eyes on him, Derek look up and meets his gaze. The scowl on his face isn’t nearly as intimidating as it was hours ago. “What?” He doesn’t really know how to answer. So he just tilts his head and watches Derek closer. He catalogs the way that Derek’s shoulder bunch up as he tenses, and the way that his eyebrows draw together, an act to hide his unease with anger. “What are you staring at?”

“Why did you come here?”

Derek blinks at him. “What?”

Stiles turns his chair around so that he can look at Derek head on. Even though he hadn’t planned on asking the question, now he needs to know the answer. “Why would you come here to hide out, knowing that my dad is the sheriff? It would be so easy for me to turn you over to him right now. Why would you come here?”

If he hadn’t been watching him so closely, it’s likely that Stiles would have missed the way that Derek shifts uncomfortably on the mattress, avoiding his gaze. “It seemed like a good place to hide.” There’s no inflection in his voice, but it almost comes across like a question. “No one would suspect that I would be in the sheriff’s house.”

“That would be true, if I had known you were hiding here. It was pretty risky on your part to climb through my window and wait for me to stumble upon you, scaring me and alerting my dad.”

Derek swings his legs over to the side of the bed, sitting up. “Just drop it, Stiles.”

He can’t. “And why would you come here instead of going to Scott’s house?”

That makes Derek snort. “Scott hates me. He hates being a werewolf, and even though it’s not my fault he blames me for it. Besides, he’s dating an Argent. The last thing I need is for them to find me.”

It’s a fair point. As much as Stiles would like to protest, everything that Derek said is true. Scott does hate being a werewolf. He does blame Derek for it, at least in part. And he’s made it clear what he thinks about Derek. If he had been asked before, Stiles would have said he agreed with whatever Scott said. Sure, he thought the fact that werewolves were real was super cool, and yeah he was kind of jealous that Scott was the one who got bit instead of him. But it was Scott, and Stiles decided long ago that it was him and Scott against the world, everyone else be dammed. 

He’s not quite sure when that changed for him. 

Maybe it was when Scott refused to listen when Stiles was trying to help him figure everything out. Maybe it changed after Scott continued to ditch him in favor of spending time with Allison, even when their lives were in danger. Don’t get him wrong, he’ll still do whatever it takes to protect Scott, he’s unfailingly loyal like that and a few weeks of being overlooked won’t change it. But-. Well, thinking about it now, Stiles knows without a doubt that he doesn’t hate Derek. And he doesn’t think that he ever has, not really. Sure, he was afraid of him. And yeah, he was definitely suspicious of him.  Be he’s never hated him. 

And now, sitting in his bedroom, watching Derek curl around himself in an attempt to make himself look smaller, Stiles realizes that he kind of wants to take care of Derek too. 

That’s a startling thought. Stiles, who has always been one to roll with the punches, doesn’t question it. So as soon as the thought occurs to him, Stiles accepts it and moves on. “I won’t turn you in,” he says, open and honest. “You can stay here as long as you’d like, okay?”

In what Stiles has come to recognize as Derek’s natural reaction to literally everything, the admission makes Derek scowl. “Why?”

Stiles tilts his head up so he can stare at the ceiling. It’s a move that his dad has used when he was trying to gather the strength and sanity to deal with Stiles. “Because, we’re both trying to accomplish the same thing. Because we’re in this together. Because I trust you.”

The words coupled with the unfailing beat of Stiles’ heart make Derek’s eye flash blue. His expression is one of complete confusion and heartbreak. “You trust me?”

He snorts. “Duh. I would have turned you in long ago if I didn’t.”

“But Scott-.”

“Isn’t me.” He sighs, spinning his desk chair in a complete circle while he gathers his thoughts. “Obviously, I don’t know what Scott is dealing with, not completely. The change has been hard on him, and it was never something that he wanted. He doesn’t see it like a gift, and because of that he’s blinded by what’s going on. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean that we have to think the same. I trust you, and I wish that he would too. So…” he doesn’t quite know how to end his speech, and he feels exposed with everything that he’s just admitted. So he nods once and turns back to his math homework, all too aware of the blush burning its way up the back of his neck. He can tell that Derek is still watching him, but he won’t turn back around. 

“It feels safe here,” Derek whispers, interrupting the awkward silence in the room. Stiles freezes. “I needed somewhere to go where I would feel safe, and my instincts led me to you. I don’t-. I hadn’t intended to stop here, and I almost left when I realized where I was, but I could hear you bustling around downstairs and realized that my wolf was right.” He clears his throat. “I trust you too.” The words are awkward and stilted, but Stiles believes them whole heartedly. 

Instead of turning around and beaming at Derek like Stiles wants too, he keeps his focus on his desk, though he’s sure that his scent is all warm satisfaction. “Cool.”

There is silence behind him for a drawn out moment, and then he hears Derek shuffle back into his position on the bed, making himself comfortable again. Stiles does glance over his shoulder at him once more, smiling when he sees how relaxed Derek looks while he reads, before getting back to work solving his math equations. 

He knows that they’ll figure out who the alpha is. He knows that they’ll save Scott and avenge Laura’s death. And, perhaps the most important thing that he knows, is that they’ll do it together. They may not fit perfectly, and it may not make sense, but he trusts Derek and Derek trusts him and for now that’s all that really matters. 

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (20/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word Count: 3359

A/N: So this scene is a bit more descriptive to what the reader would wear in this situation.  I very much envision this character to be more on the athletic side, a bit lean and muscled, because they are a predator. They are on the shorter side (about 5 ft) which has to do with the fact that research indicates that female wolves tend to be smaller than male wolves.  So that’s what I am basing my idea off of.

As always let me know what you thought!!!

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

Getting to the loft, you had been surprised at the amount of cars that were outside. It seemed like everyone at the high school and then some had been parked in front of the loft. Thankfully, the building itself was empty other than Derek. Something you hadn’t understood before but were extremely grateful for in the moment.

You’d had Stiles and Scott park in the parking garage and the four of you made your way from the garage to the loft. The closer you got the louder the music became. You could feel the thudding of the bass against the floor up through your chest and a smile tugged at your lips.

Pulling the door open, you’re suddenly blinded by a neon light beam. Squeezing your eyes shut, before blinking them open. What you see when your eyes do adjust surprises you- Danny, Ethan and Aiden had done a great job at getting the loft blacklight ready. Someone had brought moving lights that were flashing through the loft and there was enough blacklight that pretty much everything was glowing. A group of people come in after you, each of them carrying a case of beer and a quick glance around the room shows that there’s a lot more alcohol than you had expected.

“Derek can never know about this.” you’re almost shouting to be heard over the music.

Stiles and Scott both turn to you, their faces very clearly showing they think you’re insane, “It’s his loft?”

“There’s more beer here than a liquor store. I’m not trying to die for that,” you shrug as you’re all stepping into a the loft. Suddenly, there’s something icy seeping through your shirt.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” you hear someone say and you see a red cop that’s tilted awkwardly. Of course, the cold you feel had to be someone spilling their drink on you.

“It’s fine!” you say back and the girl grabs your arm, she tells you that you’re ‘so nice for not being mad!’ She’s very obviously drunk but she makes her way back into the crowd.

Once she’s gone you let out a chuckle. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go change,” you tell the trio you entered with. Looking at Kira, who seems a bit out of her element, you call her name. When her attention is on you, you ask if she’d like to borrow something.

Looking like a deer caught in headlights, she shakes her head quickly. “I’m okay.”

You raise an eyebrow at her but she just nods her head and reassures you that she doesn’t need anything. Figuring she’d rather just spend some time with Scott you nod your head and, staying close to the wall, quickly make your way to the spiral staircase before running upstairs. You find a white yoga bra and black leggings that are already covered in splotches of colorful neon paint and change quickly.

While you’re making your way down the the spiral stairs, you scan the room, trying to find Stiles, Scott and Kira or Isaac and Allison or Lydia. Your eyes find Stiles pretty quickly but he’s already looking at you. You lift you hand to wave at him when a girl pulls Stiles into a kiss. You can feel a ball form in the pit of your stomach and when he looks at you again, you offer him a weak smile before making your way down the stairs.

It had taken Scott, Kira and Stiles a moment to actually move from the door. They were making their way through the crowd of bodies and Stiles was telling Scott about the key he’d found. “It just showed up there on my keyring this morning. I asked my dad if he put it there but he didn't know anything about it.”

“It’s just a key right?” Scott’s asking as if he’s trying to clarify what it is that’s got him so worried about the key.

Stiles is looking around as he answers, “Yeah but it’s not mine and I don’t know how-” he’s stopped mid sentence by the sight of Natasha walking down the stairs. He couldn’t tell you what the garments are called but she looks absolutely stunning and he cannot tear his gaze away from her.

She’s looking around when their eyes connect. He watches as she waves at him, when suddenly he feels hands cupping his face and holding his neck. He’s surprised to feel lips and he’s not sure why but he could swear that he saw hurt flash through her eyes, which should be impossible from this distance, but she’s smiling at him and someone’s saying happy halloween. He turns and sees a girl in an orange wig making her way through the crowd.   

Looking back at the stairs, he doesn’t see Natasha anywhere. Figuring that he imagined the whole thing he turned to find the girl with the orange wig.

Your heart's beating faster and your mouth is dry as you make your way through the bodies. Seeing Isaac, you begin to make your way towards him when you see Allison walk up. The two are obviously having a conversation that you can’t make out over the noise.

As you get closer, you hear Isaac say, “I don’t like keeping secrets from Scott.“

“No, you don’t. You just like to stand there awkwardly waiting for someone to notice us…” Allison responds and you take that as your cue to veer in a different direction.

While you would like to spend time with them it seems they’re having an argument you don’t really want to bear witness to.  So you start to wander through the crowd.

You’re enjoying the music and dancing with a group of girls you don’t know when someone grabs your shoulder. Turning, you find Aiden offering you a bottle.

“Wolf's brew,” he says over the music at your furrowed brow.  “You’re literally a lifesaver!”

You take the drink from his hand and laugh. “You’ll actually have to thank Peter”

Aiden makes a face, his features twisted in disgust. “Yea, that’s not happening!”

“I thought this was supposed to be a keg?”

“Demarco said all they had was bottled so this is what we get. Gotta admit, whatever it is it actually punches quite a punch.”

“What’s in it?” you ask as you take a tentative sniff of the drink. It just smells like regular beer to you.

“Demarco said it’s just regular alcohol but they steep Kava and Salvia Divinorum with it.”

You have no idea what either of those are but Peter had paid for the alcohol and you had no intention of turning it down. So taking the bottle, you cheered Aiden before taking a drink. The drink was sweet in your mouth. You and Aiden spend some time talking about the turn out and the party before he’s excusing himself, saying that he was going to find Lydia and you let him go figuring he could use the chance to woo the redhead.

Stiles finds the girl in the orange wig and gets her attention.

“Hey, I kissed you,” she says as she moves towards him, a smile on her face as she continues to dance.

“Yeah, you kind of did. What’s your name?”  

“I’m Caitlin.”

“Caitin..” he repeats when a realization suddenly floods him, “Oh my God you’re Caitlin.”

‘I know, I just told you that.”

Stiles is stumbling over his words “No, I know… I just… I mean, uh… you and your girlfriend. She’s…” He has no idea how to be sensitive about this and is trying to figure out how to not be an ass.

“She died.”

“Yeah… Are you okay?”

Caitlin just throws her hands up and nods her head, “Yeah! I’m really drunk.”

“Okay,” Stile says as he rubs the back of his neck. He’s going to walk away when she asks if he wants to dance. He’s surprised by the offer but agrees and follows her to the dance floor.

As Stiles and Caitlin are dancing, he sees that she keeps looking over his shoulder. At first, he doesn’t really pay any mind to it but then she’s got a sensual smirk directed at someone. Someone that is not him.  He turns, expecting to see another girl flirting with Caitlin and instead he sees that there’s a guy smirking in their direction.

Confusion floods him as he looks between the two. Leaning over to Caitlin, he says, “I thought you liked girls?”

She turns to him and raises an eyebrow, “I do. Do you?”

“Absolutely,” he responds without hesitation. “So you also like boys?

“Absolutely, do you?”

Stiles stops and looks at her. He’s never been asked that and he’s never actually thought about it. Before he can really focus on it though, the guy that Caitlin was flirting with has joined them and is asking if he can cut in

Stiles steps to the side and allows the guy to replace him. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Sighing, he runs his hands through his hair and makes his way off the dance floor to go get a water. As he gets closer, he sees Natasha talking to someone.

It takes him a moment to realize just who it is but when he does, he quickly makes his way towards her, calling out her name like a mad man.

After Aiden had left you to find Lydia, you had found yourself just moving through the crowd. Grabbing another drink, you’re hanging out near the DJ’s platform when you catch sight of Stiles dancing with the girl that had kissed him earlier. She’s got a smirk on her face and you can’t help but wonder if you could get away with “accidentally” tearing her rotator cuff. It might be a little difficult to manage but at least it wouldn’t be bloody.

As you’re contemplating this, a body slides up uncomfortably close to you on your right. Stepping to the left you turn to look at the person. A brunette you recognize from the lacrosse team but you can’t put a name to.

“Jax,” he says with a hand extended to you and a friendly smile on his face. You smile and begin to introduce yourself, “I know who you are. You’ve been hanging out with Lahey, McCall, and Stilinski.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“Nah,” he says with a shrug, that is very reminiscent of T, “Just a bit surprising. None of them were every great with girls. Especially not ones like you.” He’s looking at you like you’re a meal he intends to devour and extends his hand to you again, “Care to dance?”

On the one hand, your ego and vanity enjoy the attention but on the other hand, it feels very uncomfortable “Actually,” you begin only to be cut off by Stiles calling your name.  

‘There you are!” he breathes out as you feel an arm wrap around your waist. Looking over to Stiles you see that he’s glaring at Jax. Out of the corner of your eye you see a smirk fall on Jax’s features.

“Stilinski.”

“Robertson”

You look between the two of them and watch as Jax’s eyes flick to Stiles’ arm wrapped around your waist and then up to Stiles before he addresses you, “I didn’t realize you were here with Stilinski.”

Stiles feels his blood run cold at the thought that she had been talking to Robertson for a while. “Well- you obviously don’t know very much Robertson” he says as he pulls her closer only to stiffen when he realizes that it’s her chest and stomach that are pressed against him and not her side. He could swear that he’s going to die of a heart attack his heart’s beating so fast in the moment. He’s not sure what she says but before he knows it, Robertson is walking away.

“So, what was all that about?”

Stiles is still looking in the direction that Jackson had walked off. “I don’t trust him.”

“Alright then, no hanging out with Jax.” you murmur into his shoulder which is when you realize that you’ve basically wrapped yourself around him.You take a half step back at the same time he does.

Stiles runs into a table with a bunch of brushes and paint, some of them clatter to the floor and he quickly picks them up and sets them back on the table. The two of you are left standing there and it feels a bit awkward, looking around you realize that it’s just the two of you.

“Where’s your friend?”

“Scott?” he begins to look around, “I’m not -”

“No- the um.. The girl that” you reach for his cheek and wipe some of the neon flakes away, “Did this to you..”

Stiles looks at your fingers and his brow furrows, “You mean Caitlin?”

“I guess? I haven’t… umm met her.” your voice softens at the end and you rub the back of your neck somewhat self-consciously.

“Oh! She’s not- that is to say… Well she’s not really a friend.” as he rubs his cheek, getting rid of most of the remaining fluorescent. The sight of which makes you bite back a smile. He moves his arm to rub the back of his neck as he continues “Her girlfriend… That is to say that ummmm… It was in the woods and.. well...”

The smile you were trying to bite back disappears, Isaac had told you about the night they’d chased Cora and Boyd. “She was one of the Darach’s…” he nods and you feel like the biggest jerk to have ever existed. Taking another drink of the Wolfs Brew, you clear your throat,  “Did you ummm...did you wanna go check on her?”

“I uh, actually talked to her earlier. She’s ummm… she’s fine.” At your look of disbelief he continues “Well she’s drunk but she’s dancing with someone and seems ok.”

“Good to know.”

Things feel awkward for a moment as the music blares around you but you and Stiles say nothing. Looking around you a thought occurs to you and so you step around him, to look at the brushes and paint. A thought occurs to you and so you pick up one of the brushes and turn to him,  a smile on your face, “Care to paint my body?”

Lydia’s glancing around the room and wondering, not for the first time, why she decided to come tonight. She sees Allison dancing with Isaac, almost sensually.”Ach! Finally.” Those two had been dancing around each other so much she was wondering if either one of them  would actually step up.

As the music pulsed, she continued to look around. And sees Aiden dancing with some girls behind the gate, one of them is grinding into him and she scoffs, “Predictably.”

She rolls her eyes and turns, her eyes catching Stiles dancing. He’s doing the sprinkler and his arms are flailing about awkwardly, but there’s a huge smile on his face. She sees a hand with intricate neon swirls up the arm grab his hand and follows up to the face.

“Interestingly…” Stiles is dancing with Natasha and both of them look like their lost in their own world. She’s looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world, he’s looking at her and it’s a look Lydia recognizes but she doesn’t think Stiles does.  The two of them are dancing like there’s no one watching them and, suddenly, Lydia feels like she’s intruding on something intimate.

Looking away, Lydia hears a low snarling. Trying to find the source, all she can see are bodies dancing in the room, pressed against each other. Making her way through the bodies, a dark figure appears before immediately disappearing.

Feeling like she’s beginning to suffocate, she calls out Scott's name and continues to make her way through the people before she finally makes it to the Terrace.

You find yourself unable to stop staring at Stiles, you can feel the smile on your face as the two of you enjoy the night dancing away.  As the latest song wrapped up, you and Stiles make your way towards the stairs. You stop to grab two water, a bottle of wolfs brew and a beer. Handing Stiles water and the beer, you down your water.

Stiles sits on one of the steps and drinks his water then holds up the cold beer the question evident on his face. You just shrug your shoulders and sit on the steps below him, “That’s up to you. You’ve stayed the night before. Do you have a bottle opener?”

“Yes,” he says as he reaches into his pocket.

He’s leaning over you and opening your brew when you see the yellow glow. “Your key has phosphors on it,” you say as you wrap your hand around his and lift the key and turn it, “look.” You let go and look up at him, finding that he’s staring somewhat intently at the key. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

He looks at you, and before you’ve even thought about it, your lips are pressed against his. His lips form against yours almost awkwardly, mechanically. You pull away and as you do, you feel his fingers brush against your neck.

“I- I’m sorry…” you stammer out, “I shouldn’t have- I sw-” His lips are on yours and you return the kiss, cupping his face before he’s pulling back.

“I’m sorry, what are phosphors?”

“Oh… uh, they’re any substance that luminesces. It’s in your teeth and fingernails. Laundry detergent. It’s also in this,” you say as you rub at the swirling patterns he had painted earlier. “Reacts to the UV light that’s why it glows.”

Stiles makes a humming sound of agreement and nods his head, accepting your explanation before he’s leaning in and kissing you again. This time it’s passionate and feels just like coming home. Stiles pulls away and you don’t like the feeling.

‘I’m sorry. I’m really totally sorry… it’s just, how would I get phosphors on my keys?”

You’re a little fuzzy, the brew having had its intended side effects so it takes you a moment, “Chemicals.”

It occurs to you ba moment later than it does him. Barrow. He’s already gotten up but you’re quick to follow him out.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he stops you as you’re heading down the stairs. When you ask what’s wrong he points at you “You don’t have a jacket. You’re gonna be freezing.”

You’re shocked that that’s what he’s noticed and focused on right now. Shaking your head, you pass him on the stairs and grab his hand, pulling him along with you.

‘Natasha I’m serious! We need to go get you a jacket.”

“You got a flannel in Roscoe?”

“Uhh yea... maybe”

“Then I’ll use that and if it’s not there you’ll just have to keep me warm yourself.” He’s stopped and you come to a jarring halt, an oof escaping your lips as you turn to him. “What?”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“Stiles, we have to get to the school.”

He nods his head and soon enough the two of you have made it to Roscoe, where there was, in fact, a flannel for you to use.  You’d shrugged it on and pulled it tightly across your body, “Guess we’ll never know will we Batman?”

The drive to the school is silent and somewhat tense and you’re not sure what it is that you’re gonna find. Whatever it is though you’re pretty sure it’s not gonna be good.

When the two of you make it into the building, Stiles leads you right back to the chemistry room. They hadn’t erased the board earlier that day and so the numbers are right there next to your writing.

Stiles is looking at the numbers like he doesn’t believe what he sees before he picks up a piece of chalk himself. Writing next to the numbers, he writes the same exact numbers before stepping back.

The writing on the chalkboard had been his writing.

-

-

-

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

tag list: @nicole-lynne @fandom-princess-forevermore @capandbuck @biles-bilinski-24 @stiles-o-dylan24 @fiveisadorable  @falling-stars-never-cry  @blueraindrops @its-livelovelife @screamxqueenx94 @ceceliaking-18 @jasmin3xswayz31994 @dear-vista @fangirlbitch02 @riseandshinelittleblossom @jessicakimba @truthdaze @seninjakitey @kateeee0817 @squadkyoya @lucifersnipnips @niawoods @pansexualbitchesofhell

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 21 April 2019

[manspirations]

Electric - by @manspirations

Summary: This was the year Stiles would finally cheer the hell up and do it. Three days from now, he'd transform Scott's overly-enthusiastic "buddy" into a softer passionate "baby." If he needed to hold and kiss Jackson Whittemore to do it, well...those were willing sacrifices he'd have to make.

Written for Stackson Week 2019, Day 3: Roommates/Fake Dating

@stacksonweek

Rating: M

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Stiles Stilinski/Scott McCall (One-Sided), Allison Argent

Tags: American Cheerleading AU, Roommates, Fake Dating, Disney World, Competition, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Partners to Lovers, Male Flyers

Chapters 1 and 2 up now! 3 & 4 on their way! 

Read here. 

“Yes,” Stiles kicked  him under the table. “You don’t even know if I want something.” This time, both Jackson and Danny spared him a single grimace, blinking in sync. “Okay. Whatever, so maybe just one little favor.”

“Still a no,” Jackson didn’t bother looking up from his eggs.

“Fuck you, dude.”

Ethan came around to plop on Danny’s other side, inviting himself into the conversation, “8 in the morning and already, hostility.”

“Fuck you too,” he bartered back, only to stop himself from laughing.

Ethan clicked his tongue, eyebrows twerking over his thumbly forehead. “You got the time, we got the place.”

“Eh,” Danny helpfully shrugs, his hand trickling beneath the table, ignorant of both his and Jackson’s eye rolls, “He’s not wrong. We do have the place, just not for you.”

One table over, some guy from the Elm Wood’s Grackles, eager and hungry for attention, bellowed, “Ay Yo, burrnnnn!”   

And, say what you will about their team: disconnected, impolite, crude, a disgrace to holy cheer-work. But, they’re them and anyone outside of that fucking sucked. Without plan, everyone (including freshman) at their table glared with an intensity Stiles imagined could rival the sun. The kid muttered something about bitches under his tongue before his attention lasered on Jackson.  

“Jackson,” he punted Jackson’s shin again with bare intent. You would think being the asshole’s primary stunt partner for two years now would afford him at least a little sway. “I don’t have time for your pettiness.”

“Good. Bye.” No snarl. No sneer. Not even an unsubtle finger toward the door. Stiles surmised, something  strange was afoot.

Despite the whole thing where he barely cared, his mouth blurted, “What’s crawled up your ass?”

And then it disappeared, whatever ‘it’ had been. Not a blink passed before that weariness evaporated, in its place, a caricature of who Jackson was on his worst day. These days, one given to Stiles only when others were present.

Teeth clenched and jaw tightened, Jackson slammed his fist against fake lacquer, “How about you go be a fucktard over there?” He jabbed his fork toward the other table, where Lydia, Erica, and unsurprisingly Theo were eying them with amusement in their conniving eyes. Stiles diddled a wave to them. Only Theo diddled right back. Wiseass.

“Solid comeback, bro,” he shook his head, embarrassed enough for both of them. ”I’ll wash the Por-“

“No.”

“I’ll write your fin--”

“No.”

He huffed, throwing himself against the chair. At this rate, he’d turn fifty before he successfully reigned victorious in Operation MSM. He waited until he’d captured Jackson’s fiery gaze before trying one last time.  “Dude. I’m not above getting on my knees.”

Ethan gaped, Aiden cackled, and Danny snorted into his cereal while unmasked shock split Jackson’s glare into a million tiny pieces.

“Literal middle schoolers,” Stiles quickly back-tracked once he caught on to their train of thought, but halted as the vision plagued his thoughts and didn’t instantly repulse him, “…Though, I’m not above that either.”

Screeching metal sliced through the table. “And, I’m done. Nope.” Aiden was gone, a few of the other guys following his lead. The unnecessary snickers and cracks floated after them, leaving only space for Jackson’s furrowed indignation and Danny-Ethan’s silent amusement. 

[fanpom-imagines]

A request by Anonymous: Could I have an imagine where the reader is in this like coma thing because she was too close to finding out something about someone? (Maybe the dread doctors) and it makes her think she's awake and that everything she's wanted is happening to her. Like her parents are alive but in real life they're dead? And she's dating her best friend stiles but in reality they haven't talked to eachother about their feelings? And stiles goes into le coma to get her out and sees this and yeah fluff?

Imagine being in a coma and while you’re* in it all of your deepest wishes come* true and Stiles goes into your mind and to save you.

Masterlist

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Gifs aren't mine

(Female Reader)

I smile as I walk down stairs and see my mother cooking her famous pancakes and my father getting ready for work.

“Morning,” I say with a smile as I peck my mom on the cheek, which she just giggles at and replies with a good morning, and then I sit down at the kitchen table. 

I wait for my mom to place down the food and pick out my breakfast and place it on my plate as I wait for dad to come and join us which I didn’t have to wait long for as he quickly joined us eager to get a bite from mom’s cooking.

As the three of us converse I can’t help, but get a feeling that something is off. Something is really off, but before I can pinpoint what it is my mind snaps out of its daze and I stare at my dad with a look of confusion.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked you if that boy Stiles has asked you to prom yet?” My dad chuckles at the name of Stiles I blush and shake my head.

“No, not yet, but I heard from Scott that he’s apparently going to do something big.”

Iͩ̾̓ͮ̑̉̎̎̓҉̡̰̱̻̜͚ͅť̢̡̹͙͊ͤ̽̄͗'̡̣͚̗̯̭̜͗̑ͥ̃͛ͩ̔ͮs͎͔͗̾ͮ͠ ͖̪͚͍̥̖̭̹ͥ̐̅̌̆͢ň̢͎͓̣̮̼̥̯͋ͥ̿̑̅̀͟ọ̹͐̀ͅt͕͔͙ͨͣ͌̀ ̵̹̻̓́ŗ͓̩͇̘͕͌͘ḙ̞̱̳̱̐̀ͤ̈́͐̾̂ͫ͐͘͝a̢͋ͬ̚͏̳̤͙̻̺̞͍̖͇l̴ͧͥ̾҉̟̣͖͖̘̳

A wave of confusion passes on my faces, but quickly vanishes as I go back to listening to my parents talking. After a few minutes Dad looks at the clock and gets up bidding us farewell as he leaves for work. My mother then starts to put away the dishes with my help.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to school?” Mom asked and I looked at the clock and I nodded.

I quickly put on my shoes and threw on my backpack.

“Don’t you want me to drop you off? You’re schools on my way to work,” Mom asked, but I just shook my head.

“Nah I’m good, Stiles is picking me up today,” and right when I said that I heard the familiar Jeep’s honking noise coming from outside, “and that'll be him.” My mother just chuckles and smiles as she says goodbye and I also tell er goodbye and turn around and walk out the front door, but then stop as I start to feel light headed and look around to see a totally different scenery of a hospital room, but with a blink it’s gone and I’m back to normal. I shake my head and brush it off and make my way to the shotgun seat of the car.

“Hey you okay?” Stiles asks as he starts off the car.

“Never better,” I tell him as I give him a kiss on the cheek which causes the worry from his face to vanish and a grin to plaster itself on his face.

As he drives the two of us to school the voice comes back again.

W̭̼̥ͧ̓͗̃̆͝å̡̱̱̩̫͉̠̳͒ͫͧ̈́ͧ͢ͅk̵̛̥͍͓͚̎͂͐̊̃́͞e̠̣̦̫͍͙͂̔̇̉͑ ̧̬̘͕̠̹ͧu̬̗̫̱͈̖ͣ̅ͩ͘p͈̘̪͂́̐̉ͧͧ̕͝!̴̦̜̌͗͂ͮ͋

The voice sounds familiar, but distant and white noise follows it, but I start to tune back into the real world when Stiles starts to talk again and for some weird reason my body relaxes and forgets about the weird assurances even though I don't want to forget it.

Its like I’m being forced to forget...

As the two of us get out of Stiles’ Jeep I spot Allison, Lydia, and Scott. Something again feels off though and my mind starts to become hazy again for a second and the voice returned this time more clearly.

W̩͚ḩ̝͓̳̘̞ͅe̦͜r̠̝̹͚̘e'̨̩̤̟ͅs͓͞ ̬̣K̳í̼̗̬͈̫r̟̰̺̝̀a̩̰̮̩ͅ,̥͚͓̱ ̥̼̮͔Mą̝͇̟l͎̝͓͍̗i͈̥̬͖a̤͎̗͓̦̭,̜̰̤̯̦̰ ̩͕̭̰ͅL̸̪i̧͉̗̣͓͕͈a̛͖m̹͎̳̩̰̖̤,͚͔̙͜ ̮̗an͙̰̘͎͜d͘ ̶͇e̬̻̘̙̯v̞̰̱̮ͅe̟̣̘͈͟ŗy̜͍̬̻̮̕o͍̝̩n̩ẹ̢̥̳̫̳̟ͅ ̰̩̙̲̬͕e̥̻̘̗̟̭l̖̳͎͖̙̘̦s͖̣ḙ̫?̯͖̮̳̯̫̳̀ W̤̖̞̩͚h̬̜̙̱̖͙́e̩̭̼͔̗ͅr͏͉̰̪̺e̙̱͟ ͕͎̦̠̭̩a̶̩̲r̯̝͉̱͕͚̦e̻ ̵̞̳̱͎̞͓ͅm̫̤̙͔̕y̜͈͖̣ ̛f̵̲̭̫̬͚r̨i̻͍͡e̟̞̫͎n̪͓͎̭̼̮͙d̺s̩͇͈̳͟ͅͅ?̘͈̗̜̀

But once again its washed away and I just smile at them as Stiles and I approach them hand in hand.

“How are you two love birds?” Lydia asks as she smiles at the two of us.

“Better than ever,” Stiles replies as our little group walks into the school.

As we walk down the halls to our glasses after we gathered everything from our lockers I part way with Stiles him going to class with Lydia and Scott while Allison and I go to ours.

“So has he asked you to prom yet?” Allison asked me as we made our way to class.

“No, not yet.”

“Don't worry I’m pretty sure he soon will,” Allison reassured me.

As the two of us sat in class working on our project to gather as everyone else chatted with one another I asked her, “Hey what are you doing this weekend?”

“Oh I’m going to be going on a hunting thing with my dad.’

“Damn, I was going to ask if you’d wanna have a sleepover with Lydia and I, but have fun and what does your dad hunt anyways?”

“Well... he hunts deer and stuff, yeah,” Allison said, but in a more nervous voice which I just raised a brow at not wanting to dwell in deeper. As I see she doesn’t want to continue talking about what her dad does I quickly change the subject.

“So what about you and Scott?”

“What about us?” Allison asks as she seems to be refusing eye contact.

“Oh come on how can you deny your feelings for that dork he’s a total sweet heart. I mean yeah he gets benched a lot in lacrosse because of his asthma, but he’s totally into you and I’m pretty sure the feelings aren’t one-sided either,” I grin at her as she just blushes and steers the conversation in a different direction to get back to our project and to avoid embarrassment. I just chuckle at her reaction and get back to our project and wait for the day to be over, but the dizziness and the voice comes back.

S̱̤̪̹̭͈͑ͤ͒̉̉ͮ̑ͅh̫̬͖͓̯͡e̓̆ͧ͛̍̚'̤͙͒̔ͧͫ̃͑͋s̗̲̲̫̮̠̬͛ͨ ̳̹͉̦̩͖̰͗̀̾̋ͤ̓d̼̖̻̪̻̬ͩͪḙ͉̗̆̅͑̍̈a̴̜̗̋̊͗̔d̬̠͔̞͉̼ͩ̅

I blink towards my notes as my eyes comeback to focus and the voice leaves my mind and the world starts up again back to normal.

As the school day comes to an end I sigh in relief hearing the bell ring and walk out of my class seeing both Stiles and Scott waiting for me in the hallway.

“Hey guys,” I greet them with a smile as I take Stiles’ hand and walk down the hallway with the two as I join into their conversation. 

A week goes by and I couldn’t be happier. My life is prefect.

T͙͓͈͇̳̥̹̂̾ͦ̇̆͢o̜̰͆͂̀ͮ̎ͬ̐ͅo̫̟̘̫̝̲ͮ͘ ҉̱̘̞̫̣pͦ̓ͥȩ͙͙̋͐r̖̙͓̰̲̲̾͑̊f̥̰ē̱̤̂̄č̦̥̱̱̙̞͎ͥt̴͇̩͎̆̃͒̈́̔ͫ̂

I started to ignore the voice that kept on bothering me, but I kept on having nightmares that corrupted my perfect world. The words “dread doctor” kept on repeating in my dreams, but that is all I can remember from them. No matter how hard I try all I can remember from my nightmares is fear and the words “dread doctor”.

I sigh as I get up to get a glass of water after waking up from my nightmare. I go down stairs and fill up a glass of water drinking it then filling it back up again and walk back upstairs with it just incase I get thirsty again.

As I was about to get back into bed after placing my glass down I hear a large thud and a groan coming from my window. My eyes widen and I stare out the window only to sigh in relief as I see stiles holding his nose in pain. I chuckle at his stupidity and open the window pulling him inside and onto my bed. 

As he sits up I can’t help, but laugh. I try to keep my voice down as my parents were sleeping. 

“Did you seriously smack your face right into my window?” I asked him, but all I got from Stiles was a groan of paints he glares at me and rubs his nose trying to sooth the pain.

After a while of massaging his nose he lets go of it and looks at me as he sheepishly says, “I actually wanted ask you to be my prom date, but I totally messed up. I slipped and dropped the flowers which I ruined only managing to save one.” He says as he hands me the one flower that was unharmed. “I then wanted to set up like a cool thing, but the cool thing didn’t really turn out so cool. Actually turned out to be hot, burning hot. Literally.”

I just smiled wide at him and pecked my boyfriend on the lips and said, “Yes.”

Stiles stared at me in confusion, but then he realized, “Wait no! You can't answer yet I have to ask don't you dare break tradition.”

“Screw tradition, no matter when, where, or how you ask me my answer would still be yes.”

“Would you still say yes if one of the Chris’ of Hollywood was standing next to me?”

“Now, now no your place Stiles,” I tease him as he gives me a fake glare with a fake pout.

“You’re in a coma,” Stiles says and my eyes go wide.

“What did you say?” I stare at him wide eyed.

“I said that was mean,” Stiles says as he looks at me with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“(Y/N) wake up!” Stiles yells at me.

My eyes go wide and I back away from him in fear.

“(Y/N) I don’t have much time. This isn’t real! Your parents aren’t alive. Allison is dead. Scott is a werewolf and Lydia’s a banshee. You need to remember your friends Kira, Liam, and Malia! It’s not real (Y/N)! It’s just a dream!” Stiles yells at me once more as my mind starts to become dizzy again, but Stiles returns to his normal self.

“(Y/N) are you okay?” he asks concerned.

“I don't feel so good,” I say as my mind starts to get over run with my dreams, but the dreams seem too real. They seem like memories. I scream in pain as I clutch my head falling to the floor.

It’s too much. It hurts. Everything hurts, but why? Why does it hurt so much. The scenery around me starts to fade with every blink I make. I’m either lying in a hospital bed or I’m back in my room with Stiles or I’m on some examination table with people with masks surrounding me as they seem to tick.

I scream again in pain as I wake up and open my eyes to see that I’m in a hospital bed.

To my right there is Stiles looking at me concerned and asking me things, but my minds to hazy to make out what he’s saying as white noise envelopes my hearing. I look around and see nurses and a doctor run into the room ushering others out as they come to me and inspect me as I once again start to feel dizzy and my world is consumed into darkness.

I groggily blink open my eyes as I look up at a white ceiling I groan as I sit up and stretch my soar muscles and bring up my hands to rub the tiredness from them. As my senses start to focus the more I awake I become I pick up snoring coming from beside me. I look to my right and see Stiles’ arms placed onto the bed I’m on and his head resting on them as he was in a deep slumber. I smile at him and look around the room to see the whole pack surrounding me in my hospital room. Scott is sleeping in a chair as his head is leaned back with his mouth wide open. I see Liam leaning against the wall as he rests against it also snoring lightly. I see Lydia and Kira lent against each other on two other chairs at the side of the room and then I also see Malia in the corner of the room somehow sleeping as she stands. 

I chuckle at my friends who are all sleeping which seems to stir Kira awake. As she slowly yawns and stretches my attention turns to her and I smile as she stared at me wide eyed and then jumps up from her seat and to me and bringing me into a hug as she screamed “(Y/N)” in pure joy which caused the rest of the pack to also wake up and they all surrounded me as they all came in to give me a hug all together.

As things seemed to calm down Scott had called in a doctor to check up on me and the pack left the room all except Stiles who just stared at my hand he entire time as he played with my fingers. 

“Stiles are you okay?” I asked him and as Stiles heard my voice his head quickly snapped up to me and I saw his eyes that were puffed up red from crying and I could still see dried up tears on his cheeks.

“I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” he said in a shaky voice as he stared at me as if not believing that I was really awake, “You were asleep for a week. I couldn’t think about anything, but you and if you were okay and if you would wake up or not.”

My eyes started to water as tears slowly went down Stiles’ face one by one. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t wake up. I thought I’d never be able to see you again,” At this point Stiles’ words had gotten more and more slurred as he started to sob. 

t this point the tears that had collected in my eyes started to cascade down my face and a smiled at whims I took his hand and rubbed hit with my thumb trying to sooth him, but he wouldn’t stop crying and apologizing. So I gripped onto his hand and pulled him towards me. Stiles stopped his ranting and looked up at me as he sniffed and wiped at his eye. I scooted to my left and patted the spot next to me signaling for Stiles to get up onto the bed next to me. As he climb up and dropped the blanket over himself and turned to lay down towards me.

“I’m sorry I couldn't do more,” Stiles started off again, but I just cut him off by pulling him into a hug and stroking his hair as he just sobbed into the crook of my neck as he gripped onto me for dear life as if he would let go I would immediately slip back into a comma.

After a few minutes of the two of us laying there and crying the sobbing from the two of us had started to calm down and our breathing started to return to normal.

Stiles opened his mouth as he was bout to say something, but I cut him off before he could say anything.

“Don’t you dare say your sorry or I will kick your out of this uncomfortable excuse of a mattress bed thing.”

Stiles chuckled as he closed his mouth and just stayed there laying next to as the two of us stared at one another in silence.

“You know I really wanna kiss you right now,” Stiles said as he moved a hair that had fallen into your face and behind your ear. (Unless you got like short hair then like ignore that part.)

“Then why haven't you?” 

Without another word Stiles pulls me closer to him and places his lips gently to mine and out lips move slowly in sync with one another. The kiss is gentle and short as the two of us part.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Stiles sighed out.

“Why haven’t you then?”

“Because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but after looking into your coma fantasy I felt pretty confident in them,” Stiles said as he smirked at me and my eyes widened in realization that he saw my dream in my coma, “and honestly do you really think I’d set fire to a romantic date I created for the two of us? I’m not that clumsy.”

“No comment.”

“Did you just say no comment?”

I just laughed and hugged Stiles once again as I snuggled up to him. 

“Argue with me in the morning I’m still tired.”

“How are you tired you slept for like a whole week,” Stiles teased, but I just smacked him in the arm as he just chuckled and rapped his arms around me pulling me closer as the two of us dozed off.

[theostry]

Teen Wolf Scripts liveblog: Season 1 Episode 2

Second ep of the first season, appropriately titled:

Teen Wolf Scripts!

Back again, Wolfiends. Another lengthy post consisting of screenshots of the Teen Wolf script alongside my own rambling commentary. I’m not here to review the show; finer minds than myself have got that covered. Nor is it a photo-recap; that has been done by crazier bastards than myself. 

I am here, as no doubt we all are, holding up my empty bowl to Jeff Davis and saying in a pitiful voice, “please, sir, I want some more.” Now, eat your gruel and count yourself lucky because this batch has raisins in it. 

Excerpts have been selected based on the following criteria: 1) It did not make the final cut; 2) It was substantially altered; 3) It offers extra detail not apparent from the show, such as description and direction; and 4) I felt like including it.

Fun times (and, obviously, a hell of a lot of spoilers) below the cut.

Okay, let’s get started!

WhaaAAAAT? 

We open on a doozie here. Is this a sign that the elusive Greenberg may actually exist? Like, in corporeal form? Not just a figment of Coach’s fevered imagination? 

The lacrosse sequence we’re shown was more montage-y than the script suggests and we don’t see Coach pass the ball to anyone directly, but here’s the first player to try for goal:

Greenberg? 

Or actually, it might have been this guy (confusing montage is confusing): 

Greenberg (’s hairy leg)? 

Oh but now here is where coach is telling Greenberg to take a lap, and THIS GUY starts running. 

GREENBEEEEERRG!

Coach is doing more actual coaching than I had thought him capable of, that’s nice. 

I don’t know what these “slap checks” and “cross checks” are, but to me it just looked like two guys in plastic armour smashing into one another. But what do I know, I’m not a sportsball expert. 

Also, goats. 

Sorry, sorry. I meant 

*lurk*

Well there goes my headcanon that wolf-puppy Scott just wanted to pway wif his best fwiend!

I love this scene a lot, and I’m glad they made it more scary and dramatic than this, with the jumping up on lockers and crouching in rafters and such. Why go around something when you can go over it, amirite?

Hello, gorgeous!

A STRANGE SILHOUETTE. 

I don’t know who you think you’re kidding, Jeff Davis. By now I think we all know that, like “a figure” and “someone watching”, this is a synonym for   

Now 100% more grabby!

That part isn’t news, but— Pffffft Melissa. 

LMFAO

Come on though, Melissa’s not that old. She knows perfectly well what it means, she just does this because it amuses her to make Scott squirm and huff. 

Then Allison pops up to tell him that she too is excited to come and watch him play. 

He didn’t get the line, but his face said it for him.

Meanwhile, someone’s creeping on Allison! 

HOW VERY ALONE 

NOT A SOUL

Until——  

Just kidding. The script doesn’t say who it is. I guess we’ll never know. Or, canon confirmation that Derek Hale OR WHOEVER does not possess a soul

In math class— 

Yeah, buddy. Us too. 

Ah, Lydia 

Is LAX a hip new abbreviation for Lacrosse? Or have airports somehow become a high school sport? I hope not, I would lose so badly. 

Now I want a spin-off series of webisodes about Allison Argent versus the Totally Evil Popular Girls. 

Curious. Both the spinning business and the ever-tantalising ‘OMITTED’. Don’t omit things, Jeff Davis, it’s rude! 

Well that didn’t happen 

That didn’t happen either 

UM NO JEFF THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT HAPPENED. THAT IS LITERALLY THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT HAPPENED.

No theatrics here!

Pity this bit got cut. Not a huge difference to the scene — we still got Derek’s casual disregard for others’ property and heavy-handed metaphor  — but Derek’s control is a big deal to Scott, and that could have done with more emphasis. 

*Curiosity intensifies*

Good to know that half-second sight gag was planned from the start. 

Huh. I always thought he’d said “there were bite marks on the lady.” Also, he didn’t mention Allison here on screen. 

*Curiosity intensifies further*

Good instincts, Scotty! I wonder how much that was his burgeoning wolfy-sense, and how much was just genre-savvy. 

Ooh, that’s different - on the show Scott is not only surprised to see Stiles approaching the car, but desperately trying to signal him to stop. 

This is not an Ok, go face. This is a face that says Stiles, no. At least they rhyme?

The Sheriff is the Sheriff again. Order is restored to the universe. 

The only ‘squealing sound’ I remember in this scene was from Stiles’s long-suffering Jeep. 

And now— oh. Oh holy hell. Look at this. 

yes yes we saw that part but Scott’s gone he’s run off

What the figgins no he hasn’t!

Oooooh Scotty no this is stalking behaviour. Do not eat your Stiles, that is bad manners. 

Not the Jeep! Stalking your BFF is one thing but assaulting an innocent Roscoe is just bang out of order. No wonder Stiles abandons his calm entreaties to yell at him, you can’t hit a man in the Jeep and expect him to keep his temper. 

I’m biting my nails are you biting your nails

SDKJHADFKLASDFA EXTENDED KEYSMASH! 

I KNOW BUD IT IS VERY SCARY

THAT’S GOOD STILES DRIVE OUT FROM UNDER THE RAMPAGING WEREWOLF WHAT COULD GO WRONG

RAMPAGING WEREWOLVES ARE VERY PERSISTENT AREN’T THEY

well he wasn’t going to hit him what do you think he is an Argent

SDFLKJHGFLKLSDJFH

WHAT THE HELL

SOMEBODY CALL TYLER AND DYLAN AND FILM THIS SCENE, STAT!!

It’s like all those times when--

O_O

YEAH NO FashgfadsUCKING KIDDING, JEFF!

*deep breath*

Add that to the list of places the Argents have canonically lived. Unless it’s a reference to [Coach Finstock voice] cream cheese. 

*Curiosity levels approaching critical*

A ball-peen hammer? Oh, Coach. 

A crack? In his helmet? What and how? 

Sensible, random Lacrosse (LAX?) player. Your captain is a douche. 

Aw, we didn’t get Scott’s serial killer POV here. 

Bahaha he never even went for a ‘slap check’ (whatever that is), he just growled at him from five feet away. 

Interesting indeed, Coach! He doesn’t reply to Stiles in the show. This way it gives the impression that he’s going to be doing some investigating, maybe Scott will have to be more careful around him. 

Lol, the referee never called the goal. Coach argued with him, then blew the whistle himself, and the refs just went with it. 

That’s a different take - that in his heightened state the sight of Argent coming towards him triggered his flight response. We didn’t see Argent walking onto the field until after Scott was long gone, so there was no suggestion that Scott was reacting to him at that time. We do see an ominously thoughtful look on Chris’s face! 

Awwww sweet. You hold onto that brief second, wolf boy. 

I WONDER who it’s gonna be, say it with me now— 

Oh hey! We’re on first name terms with our stalker now.

wait-- 

what

Aaaahahaha no he doesn’t, as if Derek Actual Hale would smile and greet someone. Jeff you’ve been smoking again. 

 (Or, more likely, trying to seed the aborted Jackson Hale plotline.) 

Another ripper of a script! Some fun extra moments -- and nail-biting ones -- as well as a few where the production obviously decided to go in a different direction. We got Scott marvelling at Derek’s control, Melissa trolling her son like the A+ parent she is, Scott having extremely good spidey-senses for a canid, Derek as a luring lurker who lurks, even when the script tells him not to, this man cannot be stopped, not to mention everybody’s favourite Greenberg, with an actual face! Or leg. Whatever.

All outshone by the Jeep attack scene. Why, oh why, Jeff? Do you hate us? 

Nahhh. On reflection, I can see why they cut it. This episode showcased Scott’s lack of control over his wolfy side, but we already had a fair bit of Feral Scott -- on the lacrosse (sorry, LAX) field and peeping into Allison’s window -- so that point was made. And we’d already had him attacking Stiles specifically, in that excellent locker room scene. But the visual of Scott wolfed out and roaring to the sky from atop the Jeep would have been something to see. Not to mention that moment of terror as Stiles finally sees what his friend has become, in the clear light of day, no helmet or darkness to obscure him. 

It would have been the perfect punctuation to Scott’s complaint from just prior: “Stop enjoying this so much!” Stiles still thinks he’s in a superhero origin story. But Scott is stuck in a nightmare horror. 

At least he got his perfect moment. 

Exeunt

[asterekmess]

S3A - E2

Here we go, Episode 2 of the rewatch. Honestly, even if you guys really don’t care about these, I’m gonna write them anyway, cus I need to get my FEELINGS out.

Anyway. Read More as a symbol of my love.

Thoughts:

Your pen is dry, honey. Try a sharpie.

So Stiles has literally known Heather since he was born? Nursery school is from 0 months to 5 years old, apparently. And Scott doesn’t know who she is? How does that even happen? It’s not like Stiles hasn’t seen her in ages, she recognizes him Instantly from across the room and he recognizes her back. So, Scott just never met her or asked about her or anything? Stiles never told him?

If anyone was curious, apparently Heather’s friend is named Danielle (according to Amazon Prime’s “X-Ray” thingy). She’s the same girl from Lydia’s birthday party, I think. The one who woke Stiles up? OHmygod that would be so fucking interesting. If he invited her and Heather to Lydia’s party. Maybe Heather couldn’t go, but Danielle showed up.

Awww, was Heather Stiles’ first kiss? Did they play winery as kids? Hide and seek? did they break a stupidly expensive bottle of wine?

I have personal issues with Stiles supposed canon age. I refuse to believe he’s not 17 and a year older than the others, because of repeating a grade when he was really young. I just refuse to believe otherwise. XP

PLS STOP making fun of girls asking for guys’ consent. This show would be awesome for like ten whole seconds if they stopped RUINING the girl’s asking for consent by having the guys laugh at them or treat it like a joke.

Allison, Scott’s not gonna have a single fucking clue what you’re talking about when only you hold out your arm to show the bruise.

Also. I believe in Big Dick Stiles Stilinski, bc he’s too smart not to know that wearing too big a condom is like the worst possible idea and can render it basically useless, and he wouldn’t have grabbed one (which we see he did in the next episode or something) if it wouldn’t fit. Therefore. XXL for our boy. XP

Hold up. So no one heard Heather screaming? Was she hallucinating the wine bottles breaking? Maybe it was an illusion, cus there’s no mess when Stiles gets down there? But still, the screaming is real. Scott should’ve heard screams like that even from outside the building.

Also, I feel p fucking bad for Stiles. As far as he knows, she bailed on him. What if he thought it was a prank or a joke or something? Or, even worse actually, since he’s known her for so long and she left her shoes down there, I bet he’d be worried instantly.

*snort* I looked up Derek’s loft set for research. They had to do so much editing to make it look grudgy and out of the way. This building is in the middle of town and it’s Massive and Gleaming. It’s a place where you can rent office suites. XD

I love everything about Isaac’s little venting session over getting Peter’s help, except the part where where he mentions Scott. Fuck scott. (whoops, now I need the tag. Like you didn’t see that coming?)

I find it hilarious that Peter’s intro is Rock Music. Also. “Fair enough.” I do love this man. (took me a while though.) Like, he’s honestly pretty simple to understand most of the time. He just wants people to be honest to him, say what they wanna say to his face.

Look at Peter, giving us one of the very few hints at werewolf history. Presumably, the ability was meant to be used to share memories with pack, locations of dens or images or even scents of other packs. And though mostly Alphas do it, clearly not just Alphas do it. This is fucking Interesting, I want MORE.

Aannnd, we discover that Scott’s been lying to Allison this whole time and letting her think that Derek just randomly attacked her mother. Love it. Also, I’m still not over Allison’s behavior in the last season? Waiting on an apology, hun, and it better be good.

OH. OH NOW You can sense the werewolves, Scott? SERIOUSLY?

Why do they make every single scene with Finstock have something to do with Stiles’ sex life? Like....it’s awkward. Stop. Also, can you imagine Stiles getting a rep around school for having a big dick bc of this? Is that something that actually happens in high schools? I had no friends, I would not know.

“No play.” The first time Scott decides that neutrality is better than actually doing something useful. I’m salty. *nods* yup. I am. I know what this scene does later on, and I hate it.

Also, can I just say that I literally hate that EVERY SINGLE time Stiles is having a good time, they make it Horrible? Stiles makes a lil joke about Derek being a Sourwolf? Derek gets claws through his lungs and spits blood. Stiles gets to play on the team?  Across town Erica and Boyd are being tortured. Stiles is about to have sex? The girl he’s supposed to have sex with is being traumatized downstairs. Stiles is about to play a stupid fucking game in class? He gets taken in for questioning because his friend since birth has been kidnapped. They literally refuse to ever let Stiles be happy without making him look like an idiot or an asshole for having a single good emotion. It makes me so MAD. You can literally measure the show! If Stiles is actually smiling, then someone’s about to die.

OH MY GOD. Really? Another moment we didn’t get to see? “Derek says it’s easier to turn teenagers” WHEN DID HE SAY THAT? I‘M SO CURIOUS. Also how does Stiles know what Peter and Derek tried to do to get Isaac’s memories back? Are they reporting to Stiles? Letting him know what’s up? STILES IS HALE PACK I WILL FIGHT YOU.

I’m getting really sick of Deaton somehow knowing more about werewolves than the two born werewolves. Like, it’s really fucking annoying? They know their own species, or at least they should? It was the same with Chris helping out on the hunt. He doesn’t know werewolves better than they know themselves and I’m fucking tired of it. Let Peter and Derek have their own fucking history and knowledge about their own fucking species.

*snort* i paused at just the right time and the water effect made Derek and scott’s foreheads Really big. XD

I enjoy Stiles getting distracted now that his job is done. I feel that in my soul. The only difference between us is that he has the confidence to just Grab the shit he wants to play with, and I never did so I just zone out staring at it.

I’m not stupid. I see them suddenly throwing in the work ‘risky’ everywhere. But I still appreciate Derek reminding Isaac that he doesn’t have to do the ice tub thing.

More reflections...what’s with the reflections in this season so far?

Also, is this how people sound when they’re hypnotized. I’m on Stiles’ side actually, giving this the side-eye with Isaac’s constant “They’re here” thing. It seems really weird and overdone.

God, this scene is such fucking bullshit. Derek would never put Isaac in danger like that. Isaac’s the only Beta he’s got at the moment. He wouldn’t do that and it’s fucking Stupid to make him be so vicious and scare the shit out of Isaac. I fucking hate it.

I think it’s sweet that Isaac looks to Stiles for answers when everyone’s acting weird.

Ten hours of research, and Stiles has a little pinboard on the floor, the prototype for his big one Awwwwww.

Papa Stilinski comes through ONce Again!

If they’re supposed to meet at 5 and get to work at dark. Why is it dark when they get to Dereks??? WORK WITH ME HERE.

WHY would they patch the wall (Which is stone, so wtf did they patch it with? Concrete?) if they closed the bank down right after the robbery???

IT”S THE SCENE *heavy breathing* “Big bad wolf, yeahhh, lookatdat” Peter looks SO DONE “I’ve been dealing with this for months, make it stop”

aaaand again. “Risk” Since when does Peter care about risk? I never understood this scene. We have evidence that Peter cares about family, and according to werewolves, pack is family. He flipped shit to find Derek when Derek was missing. This is exactly the kind of thing he would do. I just...I don’t get it. Don’t like it, either.

“Yeah, if you want me to come” “NOT you” I love this scene, because it shows not just that Stiles is fucking raring to go and help, but that he didn’t offer before only because he thought Derek wouldn’t let him. We know Derek doesn’t think Stiles is useless. He put Stiles in charge of researching this entire bank. Which means it’s not that he doesn’t think Stiles could help, it’s that he doesn’t want Stiles to get hurt. And apparently Stiles knows that Derek feels that way, and knows Derek is vehement enough about it that he didn’t even bother bringing it up in the first place. That’s some serious trust and understanding, and even respect right there that Stiles is showing. Understanding what Derek would feel before he did it, trusting that Derek knew better about what was too dangerous for Stiles to involve himself in, and respecting him enough not to bug him about it anyway.

personal preference, I hate how much time is wasted just showing people walk down halls with weird lighting effects, or showing Allison trip over debris and pull her coat closed. Like...it’s really not needed?

Sup, Morrell? 20 seconds to get hidden? Is that 20 sec before the alphas get in hearing range or 20 sec before they actually get there? And how did the Alphas know that Derek was coming tonight? As far as they knew they took Isaac’s memory away and killed Braeden.

KALI WEAR SOM EFUCKING SHOES YOU NASSTY.

Smart girl with the bleach. I mean, I don’t know why the sudden scent of bleach didn’t tick kali off, but sure, whatever works.

I’m not even kidding. When I saw this scene for the first time I fucking burst into tears. Just that little glimpse of Erica and I was a mess

I really love Stiles and Peter chatting though. Like, Stiles gives no fucks, and Peter sounds just so used to it. Also, Derek’s couch looks sooooo comfy. I wanna sit on it. And Peter halfway through calling Stiles annoying is just like “Shit. He’s right. Again.” and there’s no physical distance. Peter once dragged Stiles around by his neck all night and nearly killed Lydia. But Stiles has no qualms about walking right up into his space and helping him out. PLUS, when Peter realizes Stiles is right, there’s no insults. Not even frustrated ones. When STiles describes the walls of the loft, Peter doesn’t say, “No, you idiot, the bank vault.” or make a quip. He’s immediately looking to Stiles for the information and trusting that he has it and will know where it is.

Then we have Scott just...whatever the fuck he’s saying. I don’t wanna hear it.

Okay, that is way more space behind Derek and Scott than Stiles said. And how is the moonlight even getting in? They had to shimmy through a shaft in the walls, there’s no windows in the walls. AND HOW THE FUCK would the ALpHA PACK KNOW THEY EVen KNOW WHERE THE BANK IS???

Derek should be able to hear the phone call. Just. Yes. That’s how that works. Also, Peter, now is not the time for gladiator analogies.

And the tears are back. All it takes is one fucking word. “Cora?”

IT DOESN”T MAKE SENSE. HOW WOULD THE ALPHAS KNOW??? If Marin hired Braeden and told her to get a message to Derek about the bank they were being kept at, then that means that it was all this really dumb double-double cross. Her making it look like she double-crossed the Alphas by telling Braeden to give up their location, but actually doing for the Alphas to trap Derek and Scott. What the absolute fuck?

FINALLY Someone holds Scott accountable. THANK you Derek.

Also, hello Lydia, I’m so sorry honey but you’re about to enter a whole new nightmare.

Final thoughts: I’m very long winded, and very frustrated and very fucking sad. I am just so goddamn sad and the next episode’s gonna make me feel even worse so I’m taking a break.

[deaconhills]

10 Things I Hate About You [Part 7] - Theo Raeken Imagine

A/N: hey, guys! this was going to be the final part of my 10 Things series, but I got carried away and wrote eleven pages of dialogue and soul crushing stuff lmao. I know it’s been a long, excruciating wait, but thank you so much for bearing with me. I hope it’s everything you were hoping for (and more). I will try to finish this series with the eighth part being posted by tomorrow night or Sunday night.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

Your stomach did a magnificent flip as the truck sped around the sharp corner with ease. Trying to focus your eyes on the road and your thoughts on anything but your destination, you became hyper-aware of everything around you. The radio was merely a hum of a song you weren’t familiar with. The volume was a bit too low to make out any of the words, but the music was soft and sweet. It was soothing, though only slightly.

Your ears were much more attuned to the drumming of Theo’s fingers against the steering wheel. Some people shake their legs when nervous. Others bite their nails. Theo’s habit was tapping his fingers against any surface. It was his one giveaway – otherwise, he would have been an infallible poker player.

In all honesty, you were anxious, too. The last several minutes of the car ride had been spent in complete silence, you lost in your thoughts and Theo lost in his.

Finally, he paused the rhythmic motion of his fingers to break the stillness.

“Do you trust me?”

It was a simple question. Four words. The answer, however, was complex.

Though his head was still upright, facing the direction of the road, you knew that he was watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Theo,” you began, and you saw him frown at the apologetic way you spoke his name, “honestly, if you had asked me this question just last week, there would have been no doubt in my mind.”

“So there’s a doubt in your mind now?”

Electing not to speak for fear of what the underlying tones in your voice may give away, you simply nodded.

His frown did not disappear, but the drumming of his fingers resumed. The beat he was thumping against the wheel seemed to be a signal of sorts, indicating he was done talking for the time being.

Happy to oblige, you turned your head to look out the window. The sky was a hue of purple that hinted at the possibility of a thunderstorm. Gazing into the side view mirror, you saw the familiar blue of Stiles’ car trailing behind Theo’s truck. You could only just barely see Stiles in the driver’s seat, his own fingers gripping the jeep’s steering wheel so tightly that you could picture the ashen white of his knuckles. His eyes were unwavering, set on the back of the car in front of him, seemingly alert to spot any sign of trouble.

Allowing your mind to wander, you began to fidget with the leather of your seat. The material was cool and smooth between the pad of your thumb and tip of your index finger. You studied the dark brown – almost black – leather and instantly remembered your dream of strawberry fields.

Her eyes, Allison’s eyes, were nearly the same color.

Gently tracing your finger over the seams, you thought about how she had flitted so quickly in and out of your unconsciousness last night.

Apart from a few photographs, you had never actually seen Allison Argent before. You knew she had dark hair and eyes, and from the pictures Scott kept on his desk at home, you also knew she had been a beautiful girl. Until last night, you weren’t sure you could have even accurately described her to a sketch artist had they asked. In the dream, though, you were sure it was her that had drawn you to her only to run away moments later.

How could your mind have so perfectly depicted her?

The freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and the dimples at either side of her smile were never evident in the pictures you had seen before, but sure enough, your mind had not blundered those details in your dream. When you peaked at the framed photograph of Allison and Lydia on top of a dresser at the lake house this morning, there was no mistaking that Allison Argent had been the elusive beauty lurking in the strawberry fields.

It was almost as if, you suddenly thought, instead of being just a figment constructed by the subconscious, the ghost of the girl had found a way to haunt your dreams. The idea caused you to involuntarily shudder.

Theo must have noticed the shiver rip through your frame.

“Cold?” He asked, automatically reaching out to adjust the air control.

You shook your head.

“Just a nervous twitch, I guess,” you explained away.

You couldn’t tell him that you were dreaming about a dead girl – not when you may very well have been on the way to your own death, and especially not when you weren’t sure if you even trusted him with your dreams anymore.

The drumming continued again, his fingers picking up a much quicker pace. The thumping was rapid, and you knew this meant he was mulling over something.

Then, just as suddenly as the quick rhythm had begun, he ceased the movement. He used his now still right hand to reach out and lay it atop your own hand.

“Y/N, you have to trust me,” he said. “It’s the only way we survive this.”

You removed your hand from underneath his, placing it firmly in your lap, and scoffed.

“The only way we survive this?” you repeated scathingly. “I’m the one in mortal peril, remember?”

Reaching out to grab your hand again, his voice so low, he nearly whispered, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Theo –,” you started.

He interrupted to practically beg, “No, listen to me. I love you, Y/N. Before you, I only ever thought of myself. I didn’t know how to care for someone else. You taught me what love is, and you can correct me if I’m wrong, but I know you love me, too.”

You met hit eyes for the first time all night.

His own eyes left the road for once, venturing to search your own for some validation of what he had said. Not quite trusting your own voice for the second time this trip, you nodded.

Of course you loved him, but was that enough?

Seemingly mirroring your thoughts, he continued, “And that’s – that’s great, but what are we without trust?”

A bubble rose in your throat, and against your own will, a giggle escaped your mouth.

Theo was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this reaction, and honestly, neither had you. Yet, here you were: now tipping your head backwards as wild laughter ripped through you. It had been over a week since you had really, truly laughed. It felt light. It felt good.

Several seconds passed of this – you in a hysterical fit of laughter and Theo in a state of silent shock.

Finally, wiping tears from beneath your waterline, you chuckled out, “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“What’s funny?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question for the past week,” you spoke through the remnants of the laugh attack. “Well, not that question exactly. All week, I’ve been wondering ‘what are we?’ and the answer – it’s just so obvious, isn’t it?”

He didn’t dare ask you to explain, and it was lucky that he hadn’t because you paused only for a second before continuing in a tone of voice that he had never heard from you before.

“We’re nothing, Theo,” the revelation came out as if a punch line to another of Stiles’ god-awful jokes. “We are nothing without trust, and I don’t – I can’t – trust you anymore. This isn’t healthy. This is not a healthy relationship, so there’s your answer. We’re not going to survive this.”

His hand, no longer gripping your own, was now rubbing the shadow of stubble on his jaw. A frown deepened, causing lines of displeasure to blemish his otherwise perfect face.

“If that’s what you want.”

The words came out as if you had wrapped your hands around his throat and choked them right out of him.

This was Theo as you had never seen him. He was defeated, deflated.

In this moment, he was so unlike the Theo who had plunged a needle into your flesh and relished in your agony. Your hand absentmindedly crept up your blouse and caressed the jagged scar on your stomach. In this moment, he was the one lying helpless on the hospital bed. You were the one with the needle in your hand this time, and in this moment, you wanted him to feel every searing wave of pain you had felt.

“Don’t you dare pretend that this is something I want,” you seethed, your voice growing louder. “This – all of this – is on you! You pushed me into this corner. You lied to me for months. You threatened my friends. You tortured me. And you just – you expect me to trust you? And hold your hand and tell you we’ll be okay? To just go back to the way things were before all of this?”

Silence.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” you spat, your voice lowering, “but I’m not okay, and I will never be able to go back to the way I was before. I might have changed you, but you’ve changed me, too.”

His jaw twitched.

“I’m sorry -,” he croaked, but you cut him off quickly.

“For what?” you scoffed. “For making me into this monstrous version of myself? Literally, tonight – again, all thanks to you – I will become a thousands-of-years-old monster.”

He slammed an open fist against the steering wheel, and your body was thrown harshly into the door as the truck veered slightly off the road.

“Dammit, Y/N!” he shouted. “What do you want me to say? Just tell me – just tell me, and I’ll say it. Tell me what to do! Anything. Just tell me what you want me to do!”

Biting the inside of your cheek so hard that the metallic taste of blood swirled in your mouth, you took a deep breath.

Calmly and slowly, you said, “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to listen.”

Theo opened his mouth but shut it again just as quickly.

“In the span of a week, you’ve managed to turn me into someone that I don’t even recognize anymore. I mean, for Christ’s sake, I’m – I’m practically Lady Macbeth!”

He cocked an eyebrow up in curiosity at the reference but did not push it.

“This is a damn Shakespearian tragedy, Theo,” you almost cried out, “and we’re living it. The goddamn dread doctors have prophesized the rise of the Beast, just like the witches. And you, of course – you’re Macbeth. Corey was just a causality of prophecy and greed, right? Sounds like Duncan to me. But here’s the best part: I’m Lady Macbeth. I’ve been trying so hard to scrub Corey’s blood off my hands. ‘Out damned spot!’ Well, that damned spot? It’s not coming out. It’s never coming out. I’m forever stained with his blood – all of it is on me.”

Laughing out coldly, you finished, “And neither of us make it out of the final act alive.”

You laid your head back against the cool, leather headrest and closed your eyes. It felt as if you had just let all of the helium out of a balloon, letting it whiz and zip across the room until it lands, perfectly deflated, on the floor.

The air blowing from the vents rushed across your flushed face. For the first time in a week, you felt refreshed and light. The cab of the truck was completely silent, except for the low hum of the radio and the occasional rattle of the air conditioning, for what felt like eons.

Theo broke the stillness first.

“You’re not Lady Macbeth,” he stated resolutely, “and this isn’t your final act.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply opened your eyes and slightly turned your head to watch his expressions.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me. So, you know what? Don’t trust me, that’s fine – but you need to trust Scott. You need to trust your friends,” he urged. “Trust Liam.”

He had said Liam’s name so unusually. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made your eyes widen in surprise.

Theo looked at you out the corner of his eye again, assessing your reaction as he announced, “He loves you.”

For several moments, you remained silent before sighing, “I know.”

“You what?” he asked, failing to hide his incredulousness. He was still watching you intently.

A light, tired laugh carried itself into the air.

“I only just figured it out this morning, actually,” you admitted, smiling a bit. “But I guess it’s always been pretty obvious, huh?”

Theo grunted, though still unable to completely shake the surprise from his features, and agreed, “Yeah, no kidding. The kid can never take his eyes off you. I hear his heart rate speed up every time you so much as brush past him. It’s pathetic.”

You just shook your head, chuckling softly at the fact that you had never even fully realized what was going on until just today. Thinking back to only this morning, you remembered how it had all suddenly just clicked. He had stuffed his mouth full of pancakes. Syrup dripped down his chin, threatening to leave the sticky, brown evidence of his breakfast on his t-shirt.

“Come here,” you motioned for him to scoot his chair closer to your own.

You crumpled up your napkin, getting up from the table and running it under a stream of water in the sink.

Liam continued eating vigorously as you wrung out the excess water.

Walking back over to the table, you warned him, “You should slow down before you choke.”

He shrugged and, through a mouth full of food, simply said, “Hungry.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his face with your hand and drew him closer to you.

Taking a great swallow that you were sure would result in him needing the Heimlich, his cheeks instantly collapsed back to their normal size as his blue eyes only grew wider. He jumped back a bit at the connection of your hand to his cheek.

“Sorry,” you muttered, raising the napkin to his chin. “Are my hands cold?”

“Uh-uhm, no, they’re fine,” he mumbled.

He let you wipe the sticky syrup from his chin, and you were very aware of the fact that his eyes had not left your face since you had first turned his head to face you.

Setting the napkin down, you let go of him, but Liam had not yet removed his gaze from your face, or more specifically, your lips.

Trying to draw his attention back to anything but your mouth, you explained, “You, uh, had syrup dripping down your chin.”

With your faces still only a hand’s length apart, he rubbed at his now clean face absentmindedly and muttered, “Oh, yeah… thanks.”

Just then, you both snapped your heads in the direction of the doorway where you heard a soft gasp.

“Oh, um,” Kira stood in at the door with a shocked expression painted on her face. She fumbled over her words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt – whatever you guys were, uh, doing.”

You laughed easily but noticed Liam let out only a forced decibel of a chuckle.

“Oh, no,” you dismissed her misunderstanding with a snort and wave of your hand, “I was just helping him out. He had something on his face.”

Kira looked from you to Liam, who refused to meet her eyes.

“Oh, okay,” she said slowly, eyeing Liam carefully. “I thought maybe you guys had been... kissing.”

She said the last word almost regretfully, and as soon as you had let the laughter out of your mouth in response to her suggestion, you had immediately regretted it, too.

Liam abruptly stood up, pushing his chair from under the table and seizing up both of your plates from the table. He dropped the plates into the sink with a clatter, turning on the faucet and pouring dish soap onto a sponge.

This was especially odd considering you had never once known him do the dishes in his life.

Kira, seemingly assessing a tense situation in the midst, likely due in part to her misjudgment, mumbled something resembling a ‘see you later,’ and slipped out of the room.

Liam kept his head low, bent down over the scalding hot water and suds now filling the sink. He was scrubbing a plate so harshly that you thought it might shatter beneath the sponge he was using.

Very cautiously, you called out, “Liam?”

He didn’t answer but rather just grunted in acknowledgement.

“Did I-,” you treaded nervously, getting up to stand next to him at the counter, “-did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head, still bent over the pile of dishes. “No, you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You turned off the water, seizing his hand to stop it from the constant scrubbing. His arm shuddered beneath you.

“Liam,” you spoke softly. “You’re washing the dishes. Something’s clearly not right here.”

Setting the sponge down in the sink, he folded his arms across his chest and faced you. He still, though, would not allow his eyes to meet your own.

Looking at his shoe laces as if more interesting that the conversation at hand, he admitted, “I don’t know – it’s just that you – you laughed.”

Giving him a puzzled expression, you urged him to give a better explanation.

“When Kira said that she thought that we had been, uh,” he searched for the right wording, “kissing, or whatever, you laughed.”

“Oh,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he grunted, attempting to return to his task of dish washing.

Reaching out to rest your hand atop his arm again, you approached the subject gently.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Li.”

He rushed to reassure you, “No, no, really. It’s fine. It’s just that… is the thought of kissing me really so funny?”

For the first time since the discussion had started, Liam looked you directly in the eye.

“No, of course not!” You felt your heart constrict at the evident hurt in his voice. “I just had never really considered it, you know? I mean, you’re my best friend. I guess the idea of someone thinking that I would be kissing my best friend – I don’t know, it’s just so foreign to me, that’s all. It caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he mumbled, but he didn’t seem satisfied with your clarification.

You sighed out, “Come on. Don’t be like that, Liam! The two of us, kissing at the kitchen table? You’ve got to see the humor in that. Seriously, it’s not like you’ve even considered the both of us before, either, right?”

His jaw jolted only slightly as he said, “Right.”

He turned back to the dishes, running the water again. This time, you didn’t reach out to stop him. Instead, you walked away, leaving Liam to the dishes and you to your thoughts.

You hadn’t needed supernatural abilities to know that when he had spoken that single word, as simple though it was, that Liam had been lying straight through his teeth.

“He’s a good guy.”

Theo snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I know,” you affirmed again.

No sooner had you said it, he had put the car in park. Looking out of the window, you realized that you had arrived at your destination without even noticing.

Theo hesitated to open the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

He looked into your eyes, his irises seemingly searching for something within the hues of your own, as he said, “I’ve hated him all this time because I knew he loved you in a way I never could. Y/N, you taught me what love is, but I still have a lot to learn. Unconditional love – I’ll never be capable of that, and that’s what you deserve. As much as I hate to admit it, Liam’s plenty capable of it. I still hate him, but not as much as I hate myself for all the things I’ve done and all the things I can’t be to you.”

Your mouth hung open but no words manifested.

“If you do anything tonight,” he advised sternly, “just trust him.”

With that, he climbed out of the car and shut the door, leaving you to attempt to gather your thoughts.

Your head was spinning as you managed to get out of the truck and join the others as they huddled around the hood of Stiles’ jeep.

“Hey, guys,” you squeaked. Your voice sounded very unlike itself, which was understandable considering the circumstances that had brought all of you together.

Each of your friends turned to greet you with grimaces.

Great. They were all just as scared as you were.

‘Trust your friends.’

You looked to all of them.

Lydia, intently skimming through a book that looked to be written in French, was talking in a hushed voice to Stiles. Undoubtedly, the two were working a theory about the Beast of Gêvaudan. Malia was talking animatedly to Scott and Theo, her hip jutted out in a way that suggested she was particularly unhappy about something. Kira was sharping the blades of her katana, an expression of peace on her face. Liam was studying you.

‘If you do anything tonight, trust him.’

When your eyes met, he gave you a weak smile.

“Nervous?” he asked, rocking on his heels.

You nodded.

“I feel like I might throw up.”

Liam scrunched up his nose, “Ergh, please don’t.”

You teased, “You’ve always had a weak stomach.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “I just don’t like gross stuff.”

Both of you let out ghosts of laughter, allowing them to float and fade into the quiet night. Besides your friends’ chatter, the only sound was the rustle of tree leaves against the wind. The two of you stood against the side of Stiles’ jeep in comfortable silence, shoulder against shoulder, looking up at the stars littering the atmosphere.

After a few moments, you felt Liam’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

You turned your head in his direction, catching him off guard as he quickly tilted his head upward, pretending as though he hadn’t just been looking at you.

“What if you guys can’t separate me from Sebastien?”

He finally looked at you. His eyes were scanning your entire face, as if he was only really looking at you for the first time.

“Y/N,” he promised, “that’s not going to happen.”

You were insistent.

“But what if it does?”

He pursed his lips, eyes still roaming the planes of your face. He was at a loss, and you knew it.

Still, you pressed on, despite the trembling of your voice, “What if I become a monster?”

Adamantly, he shook his head.

“No, that’s not even possible. You could never be a monster.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you wondered, “How do you know that?”

“You swerved into a ditch trying to avoid hitting a squirrel.”

Both of you laughed together, remembering that night all too well. Tears threatened to spill over as you secretly suspected that there would never be another late night road trip with Liam again after tonight.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, you knew Liam was scared, too.

“Hey,” he cooed. You have never heard his voice this gentle, and as the words rattled in his throat, you noted that you had also never heard him choke back tears before. “You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

You nodded, hot tears splashing down the slopes of your cheeks.

His blue eyes were frantically gliding across every inch of your features, and you realized that he was trying to remember every detail of your face in case he never saw it again.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, and you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself of it.

Pressing your back up against the cool metal of the jeep, you screwed your eyes shut and willed the tears to stop flowing. You didn’t want the others to see you crying and know how scared you really were. They would be more worried than they needed to be.

Leaning your head into the nook of Liam’s shoulder, you allowed him to support a bit of your weight. You felt incredibly heavy all of a sudden.

“You’re my best friend, and I love you.”

You had whispered it, but you knew he had heard you.

“I know,” and you heard the smile in his voice.

The two of you stayed like that for some time, you leaning on him, eyes shut against the world, and his head titled skyward.

You left the comfort of your best friend’s shoulder only when Scott rounded the corner and asked, “You ready?”

You looked to Liam, who nodded.

“Yeah,” you grimaced. “I’m ready.”

Scott put a hand on your shoulder in a brotherly way and reiterated what you had already been told for the hundredth time, “Look, you’re going to be –,”

“Fine, I know,” you laughed out. “So I’ve been told.”

He smiled, though much less brightly than usual, and you followed him to where the others were positioned now on the outskirts of the woods.

“Just remember,” Lydia reminded you tenderly, “we’ll be right out here.”

You nodded, giving her a grateful look.

“This will all be over by tomorrow,” Theo offered. Then, in a much lower tone, he said, “Remember what I told you.”

He looked from you to Liam as the rest of the group shared a perplexed look but did not question further. You squeezed his hand briefly. It was the first physical contact you had initiated in what felt like ages. Theo squeezed back, his thumb grazing against the back of your hand, before releasing his grip.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice beginning to go hoarse. “I will.”

You began walking backwards from the group, towards the decrepit building a few hundred feet behind you.

The all watched you with solemn faces as the distance between you grew.

Turning your back after a few steps, you squared your shoulders, tilted your chin upward, and began your march to an unknown fate.

You made it several more steps before you turned on your heels and shouted to the group, “Hey!”

They were listening.

“If I don’t come back,” you yelled out across the violent purple night, “get the letters out of my locker!”

With that, you continued to walk. The grass, wet with dew, was slick beneath your feet. Praying that your friends would never need to read the letters you had written in case of your death, you imagined each of the envelopes sitting in your locker. Their names were written on the front of each one in pink glitter gel. Inside, there was a letter for each of them in which you had poured your heart out. A picture of all of you, minus Theo, at your birthday party last year was taped to the letters.

All you wished for was one more birthday with your friends.

Remembering what lay in your locker next to the letters just as you reached the entrance to the building, you pulled your hair into the tightest ponytail you could manage, faced your friends for very well could have been the last time, and shouted what very well may have been your last words:

“And please turn in my Hamlet essay by Wednesday morning at nine, please!”

You could have sworn you saw Stiles roll his eyes even from the doorway of the Dread Doctors’ lair.

TO BE CONTINUED

[superteenwolftrash]

For You/Isaac Lahey Fluff

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)

Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Request:  Heyy first of all i love your writing❤. Can you please do an Isaac imagine where his girlfriend doesn't know about the supernatural and feels betrayed of isaac and her friends cause they don't have time for her or something. She distances her from them and in season 3 ducalion takes advantage of it and threat them with her and she finds out. You can make the end like you want. Sorry if that was confusing but please it would make my day😂 Thanks love❤

"Hey Lyds there you are!" I said with a smile as I found Lydia at her locker. "I haven't seen any of you guys today." I said as she closed her locker. "Yeah we've been busy." She said shortly, "Oh yeah of course! That's what I assumed. Are you free today? Isaac and I had a date but of course he cancelled again." I said with sigh, "You know I actually have something I have to do after school." She said quickly walking away, had I done something wrong? Everyone has been avoiding me. I couldn't even keep track of how many dates Isaac has cancelled, I seen him all day. We have last period together, he avoided eye contact with me the entire class. "Can we talk?" I texted him. I glance over at him and I see him on his phone before looking over to me and nodding. After class finished I went out to my car and I waited for Isaac. After over a half and hour he finally comes out, "Hey I'm sorry about the date." He says scratching the back of his neck. "Dates." I correct him, "What?" He says confused. "Dates as in plural, you've cancelled on me more times than I can count." I explained, "What's going on? Is there someone else because if there is please just tell me. Or if I did something because everyone else is avoiding me and I don't know what I did. Just tell me what's going on?" I said and Isaac looked across the parking lot, Scott, Allison, Stiles, and Lydia stood. "There's nobody else, Y/N. We're just busy, Alright? I'll make it up to you. You don't need to be so needy." Issac said looking back to me, as soon as the words came out of his mouth I knew he immediately regretted it but I was already upset. "Needy?" I said confused, "I'm not being Needy! My best friends and my Boyfriend are ignoring me!" I said raising my voice. "You know what I'm do-" I started but Isaac cut me off, "No no no. Don't say it. Y/N listen please. There's things that I can't tell you, but you have to trust me that I'm only trying to keep you safe." Isaac said frantically. I loved him so much, I was so in love with this boy. But he was distant and he barely said two words to me. He must not love me anymore, as for my friends I guess they just sided with Isaac. "I'm sorry." I whispered, "Y/N please." Isaac whispered, I just shook my head as I got into my car. I sped off I didn't want to be in that situation another second. I pulled over to the side of the road and I just cried, I wiped my face and I collected myself before I drove home. The next couple of weeks I hadn't even talked to Isaac or Allison, Lydia, Scott, or Stiles despite their numerous tries. I had started hanging out with some new people, Ethan and Aiden. They were really nice and honestly I needed it, "We want to show you something." Ethan told me, "After school." Ethan said, I agreed and I went on with my day. I was at my locker when it was slammed shut, "Where are you doing with Ethan and Aiden?" Isaac asked, more like demanded. "That's none of your business." I said reopening my locker. "They're dangerous Y/N. Don't trust them." He warned, I scoffed. "They are the only ones who have been nice to me! They haven't done a single thing to hurt me." I said now slamming my locker and storming over to Ethan and Aiden. "Why wait until after school?" I said and they smirked and I looked back at Isaac who was glaring at us. Scott next to him, he looked like he was calming him down. But I didn't care he had the audacity to criticize the twins after what he did. I got on the back of Aiden's bike and we drove off, we ended up at an abandoned mall. "You guys aren't gonna murder me right?" I said half joking, half serious. They just looked at each other, Oh good. "No come on." They said as we walked inside. "Well done boys." I heard a British voice, I turned around the Ethan and Aiden weren't there. "What the hell." I muttered, what did I get myself into? "Y/N I'm glad you're finally here." Someone said a man finally coming into view. "Who are you?" I asked, "Ah excuse my manners." He said coming close enough that I could see that he was blind. How dangerous could he be? He held his hand out, "I'm Deucalion.", "Well you seem to already know who I am." I stated trying to not sound like I was terrified. He could probably hear my heart from how hard it was beating in my chest. I had so many question and I was so confused. He pulled his hand away, I was looking around looking for an escape. "What do you want?" I asked curiously, "Well your friends with Scott McCall, correct?" He asked, "Not anymore." I said shortly. How did he know what us, "Oh that's right you left that little pack." He said with a chuckle, "Or were you tossed out?" He said looking at me, "Ethan Aiden?" I called out, "I want to leave." I said, "I thought we were having such a nice chat." Deucalion said in a fake hurt voice. Ethan and Aiden came out, Along with a girl with no shoes and a big guy. "I want to offer you a spot in our little family." Deucalion said, "What are you-" I started but was cut off, "We won't treat you like they did." Aiden said, "We always take care of our own." The girl with no shoes said, she definitely needed a pedicure. "You guys see how weird this all is, Right?" I said looking around the group of people. "Let us show you." Deucalion  said and they all transforming. I took a couple of steps back, I was in shock at what I saw. They explained everything to me, what they were and what Scott was. It didn't make sense, I grew up with these people. How I did not know that they were Werewolves? I felt so stupid. The next few weeks were filled with becoming closer and closer to the Alpha pack, I still didn't understand why they wanted me. But they always had time for me, "How do you know Deucalion ?" Scott asked me, they entire pack had pushed me into an empty class room. "Never heard the name." I told him, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into! There's things you don't know." Scott said, "Like what? Like how you and Issac are werewolves? How Allison is a hunter? Or how Lydia is a Banshee. The list really goes on." I said crossing my arms, they all stood there. Mouths hung open, " Deucalion is a killer! His name literally means death destroyer of worlds!" Isaac shouted, "Scott let me talk to her." Isaac said and Scott nodded as the rest of the pack left. "Y/N please, this is what I wanted to keep you out of. I didn't want you in any danger." I said leaning against the door, "I just wanted to be with you! I would've done anything for you. We could've gotten through all of this if you just gave me a chance." I said, blinking away the tears forming in my eyes. "I loved you." I lied, I still loved him. "I love you, I never wanted any of this to happen. Just stay with us don't go back to him." Isaac pleaded, "I can't." I whispered, "Why not?" Isaac said grabbing my hands in his. I looked up at him and all the color drained from his face, I was showing him my eyes. Not my normal Y/C/E eyes, my bright yellow ones. "No!" He said punching the wall next to him, "What did they do to you!" He shouted, "Y/N." I heard from the doorway, it was Aiden. "I have to go." I said walking past Isaac. Aiden and I were in the hallway when we heard a roar, I turned around to see Scott and Stiles holding back werewolf Isaac. I wanted to stay, he was just trying to protect me. But Deucalion  turned me, I had a connection with him. Aiden pushed me out the front doors of the school and brought me to the mall. "Are they following?" Deucalion asked Aiden, I was confused. "Who?" I asked, "Close behind." Aiden said and then I must've blacked out because that's the last thing I remember before waking up with Kali's claws to my throat. "What are you doing?" I shouted as I tried to get away from her. "Let her go!" I heard Isaac's voice. My eyes snapped to him and Scott, "That's not going to happen, you have two options Scott. You either join us or Y/N dies." Deucalion stated, "If I join you that means I have to kill-" Scott started but he stopped, "Your pack." Deucalion  finished. "I won't do it." Scott said, I was just focused on Kali's claws. Derek appeared along with Erica and Boyd. "Ah you brought some friends. So did I." Deucalion  said with a chuckle as Aiden and Ethan and Ennis came out. Kali let go of me and pushed me into   Deucalion who's claws replaced hers, "The hard way it is." Deucalion  said as everyone stared fighting. I struggled but he was just so strong, Isaac managed to get past everyone and got to us. "I gave Scott the choice." Deucalion said and I felt his grip tighten, the fighting stopped and everyone turned to us to see. "Last words?" Deucalion  asked as I stared at Issac. "I'm sorry, I should've listened to you." I said taking a deep breath, "I love you." I told Isaac, I saw a few tears rolling down Isaac's face "Y/N I'm so sorry, this is all my fault." I said quietly. "I'll always love you." I whispered, everyone watched with close eyes. "Isn't that sweet." Deucalion said with a chuckle, "Stop!" Scott yelled, "Ill be in your pack, but I won't kill my own." Scott shouted, "You won't have a pack by the time I'm finished." Deucalion  said as he tore my throat open, I grabbed my neck. I looked at Isaac, he caught me in his arms as I fell to my knees. I couldn't hear a word, all I could hear was the sound of my heart beat slowing down.

[cajunroe]

Can I get a fuckkng uh.... G, M, P??

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Bro, start to finish. If I write scenes out of order I forget what I want to really put into the story and it messes it up. For Show Me How, I wrote two chapters ahead of the one that needed finished and it completely derailed what I wanted because I was focused on the future chapters rather than the one I wanted to finish.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Ohhhhhh boy. YES. AND I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. I have two actually.

The first is a Midam Library!AU consisting of three prompts:i)       You’re overdue on this book and I want it so I’m tracking u the fuck downii)      I work in the library and I’m a little concerned for your health bc you never stop studyingiii)     The library’s pretty empty save for you and me and OH that couple making out loudly in the shelves somewhere

Second is a new Teen Wolf fic. UGH THIS ONE. I’m literally itching to get it started. I’m working on an intro post right now, but it’s going to be amazing. I don’t want to release too much until after I post the intro, but here’s a slightly long snippet.

Basically, Scott and Allison are brother and sister (not blood related) bc Noah and Chris get together when the kids are young after they meet at a grief support meeting because both of their wives died. Sheriff is still Sheriff. Chris is still Chris. They all know everything exists, the whole supernatural spectrum. Chris, along with his father, insists that, especially in their lines of work, that the kids should be trained to fight. It takes a long time, but after Chris is nearly killed on a trip gone wrong, Noah agrees.

Cue 9 years later and Stiles and Allison are nearly finished with high school and their dads consider it a blessing that their skills haven’t been needed to be put to use. But in Beacon Hills, nothing good lasts forever. Allison and Scott have been together for year and Stiles couldn’t be happier for his best friend and sister. After four misguided attempts, by his friends, at setting Stiles up by, Stiles admits to them that he’s been in an online relationship for nine months, after talking for three months. Stiles has been forced to keep so many secrets all his life, it was nice to keep one for himself.

The Argents and Hales have had a pact of peace since Chris moved to town and even more so since Noah became Sheriff. Their town is quiet and the biggest crime of the past decade was a bank robbery that was stopped in the middle of the theft because Chris had been making a deposit in their kids’ trust funds. But everyone can feel something on the cusp, something dark and life-altering headed their way. They can do nothing but wait…and hope that they have prepared enough for this.

Peter Hale was well-known in both hunter and werewolf circuits. He was well respected, intelligent, wise, strategic, powerful, and compassionate. He was also stubborn, aggressive, protective, and ruthless. He’d been travelling from pack to pack and faction to faction, discreetly establishing pacts between hunters and werewolves and he’d been generally successful. His sister wanted nothing more than to be able to have her and her family live in relative peace. After her death, Peter sought to make her dream come true so that her kids could live their lives the way they wanted.

For the past nine months, Peter’s been in a relationship with someone he’s never met. Honestly, he’s never been happier. He doesn’t care that he’s only seen Stiles in picture and their rare video calls. He knows that Stiles is something special and Peter is completely infatuated. Stiles has only asked twice when they could meet. The first time Peter was in the middle of a bloody mediation in Paris. The second time, Peter was too nervous to go through with it. His feelings for Stiles scare him sometimes and he doesn’t want to Stiles to meet him and deem him unworthy. Peter’s only been truly scared a handful of times in his life. Nothing scares him more than losing Stiles.

Derek calls Peter and asks if he’d come back to Beacon Hills for a pack meeting. Peter’s been waiting for this call for a while. Derek took up the head of the pack when Peter explained what he was going to do. Derek wanted to head the pack, but Peter knew he’d eventually grow complacent and want to see the world. They agree to wait a week for the pack to acclimate to the shift in power. The night before Derek leaves, someone is turned.

Imagine all your life, being train to kill something that your best friend and for Allison, your boyfriend, ends up becoming. When Scott nervously tells them that he thinks he’s a werewolf, Allison and Stiles are shocked. Chris and Noah have worked hard to keep their kids away from negotiations with the Hale pack. When they don’t bat an eye, Scott asks them why they haven’t said anything. Stiles laughs and says something to the effect that they already know. They all go to Scott’s house and Allison and Stiles tell him everything they know. Allison comforts Scott while Stiles tries to figure out a way to keep this from his parents and Gerard and get in contact with the Hale pack without anyone finding out.

Chris and Noah find out the two nights later when Scott, sweating nervously, lets slip that the moon must be affecting him. Honestly, he was scared that they would try to break him and Allison apart if they found out. The irony is not lost on him. There’s a deadly silence for a long moment and everyone looks at one another, trying to decipher what they should do next. Allison and Stiles nod to one another when Chris and Noah leave the table. They rush to their rooms and grab their favorite and most skilled weapons. For Stiles, a dual set of matte black Beretta 92FS pistols with suppressors. For Allison, her favorite black compound bow and well-stocked quiver. When they come out, their dads are also geared up and Scott stares blindly at the silent power his second family is capable of.

Chris mentions that Derek said his uncle was back in town and taking over the pack. Noah sighs in a way that gives Stiles pause. He knows his dad better than anyone, he knows when he’s worried, scared even, for what was ahead of them. He watched his dad kiss Chris and Stiles quickly texted his boyfriend to let him know that he wouldn’t be available to talk tonight. He got a reply immediately and felt less guilty when Peter told him he was busy as well. They all file into the SUV and drive towards the Hale’s home. Allison and Stiles shared an excited look over Scott’s confused face. They were finally going to be a part of what they’ve been trained for.

No one is prepared for what happens when they reach the house. The house is engulfed in flames and before they could reach out to help, Derek had Noah pinned against a tree and Chris had a gun trained on Derek before he could say a word. Stiles and Allison had taken positions on either side of there parents and Scott, Stiles facing the road and Allison facing the house, establishing a perimeter of protection around them as the last of the pack slowly approached them. A hush falls over the woods, the sound of support beams falling and flames flickering the only thing heard over the breathing. A voice rings out among the quiet chaos, appeasing both sides quickly, guns being holster, and Stiles’ heart stops. It couldn’t be. Stiles holster his pistols and slowly turns around to face what he hoped wasn’t the truth. They lock eyes and Stiles feels his entire world shifts, knowing nothing will every be the same.

I know I said I didn’t want to give too much away, but honestly this is literally just scratching the surface. AND I’M SO EXCITED FOR THIS. I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

I am a gardening architect. Overall, I have specific details that have to become a part of the story, but for all I have written, the story controls itself. With Hollow Moon, right now, it’s completely taken on a mind of its own and I couldn’t be happier with the direction it’s going. I’m so excited for the next chapters because they’re going to be amazing. Stiles is going to be amazing.

Thank you Kelly!! U DA BEST.

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