#scott and stiles friendship

[dreamlandforever]

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 13 - Fan

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC:800

AO3

XIII. Fan | Like Father Like Son

The thing about Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, is that, ever since they started dating almost ten years ago, they both know exactly what their place in the other one’s life is. It had been like two puzzle pieces finally falling into place. Sure, they often argued, annoyed one another and drove each other insane, but that was because they were both very passionate men, very protective of their own and prone to action. And, quite honestly, had a knack for getting in trouble. With time, they have gotten better at staying alive, and getting themselves out of trouble. 

But never in that time has Derek ever doubted his place in Stiles’ life. Until now.

That is not to say that Derek hasn’t had to fight for Stiles’ attention before. There have been a few people who thought the Spark was single. Very unfortunate for them, really, because it was always Derek who noticed that, and never Stiles himself. And he was very good at showing other people that Stiles was indeed not single. 

The hardest one he had to live with all his life was Scott McCall, and even then it was game over because Derek had orgasms on his side. And also a very strict schedule, which Scott and Stiles had to abide to so Derek also got to see his boyfriend when Scott and Stiles both had a day off at the same time. Derek and Scott may now be friends, and work pretty well as co-Alphas of a rather large Pack, but they’re still not very good at sharing the most important person in either of their lives. Kira and Derek are actually very close now, from building said schedules together. 

What Derek is not used to is feeling jealous of his own son. Because from the moment Eli had learned how to walk, he had been following Stiles around, adopting every mannerism from Stiles the toddler could imitate. And the thing is, Derek is used to being Stiles’ number 1 fan. Even above Scott, mainly because Stiles was too busy being Scott #1 fan for Scott to even try and one up him. And there Eli was, being Stiles’ number one fan, taking all of Stiles’ time.

Never mind the fact that Eli is also his son. Why can’t he be Eli’s favorite? He always tried his best to be for him what his parents were for him, and he knew Eli loved him. The kid showed him everyday, just like Derek showed him everyday. But something about Stiles seemed to drive Eli straight to him every single time. 

“Papa!” The toddler called, walking towards him as fast as his chubby legs allowed him to go. Derek woke up from his daydreaming to kneel on the floor and let his son run to his arms. 

“Where’s Daddy?” The kid asked, easily finding his spot under Derek’s chin. Derek let out a sigh and stood up, with Eli in his arms. 

“He went to get dinner with Uncle Scott.” Derek replied, unable to stop that little stab of jealousy. He wasn’t even sure if he was jealous of Stiles or Eli. “They will be back in less than ten minutes, Eli. What do you want to do until then?” He asked gently, making his way to Eli’s room. 

“Read a story, Papa.” Eli instructed, pointing at the small bookshelf that he had built for him a few months ago when he decided to give workshop a go. Derek nodded, taking a seat on the bean bag Lydia had gotten for them after watching them sit on the floor like ‘heathens’. He had to admit that no longer sitting on the floor at almost 35 years old was a great idea. 

“Which one are we reading?” Derek asked gently, setting Eli on the floor so he could grab a book. Derek waited patiently, expecting Eli to hand him Darth Vader and Son, Stiles’ favorite, but was instead pleasantly surprised when Eli handed him Red Riding Hood. 

Derek stared at the book for a few seconds, before he could feel the smile on his face. Red Riding Hood was his favorite book, mostly out of an inside joke with Stiles over a decade ago, when his boyfriend had been 16 years old and he had been a very angry 20 year old. 

He looked at his son again, and laughed softly. “You know what, Eli, you can be his number one fan, too, if you want. Your Daddy is indeed very awesome.” Derek suddenly understood, for the first time in Eli’s four years of life where his obsession with Stiles came. And how could he blame his child, when he was only imitating what he saw in his Papa?

“Alright, kid, let’s read.” Derek said gently, allowing his son to climb into his lap before he started reading the book, doing his best to make the voices of every character the way he knew Eli liked it. 

[somefirewhiskeyfortheway]

Scott: My mom is a nurse and...my dad is a–

Stiles: An asshole.

Scott: –A FBI agent

Stiles: ...Yeah that too

[twpromptsillneverwrite]

Scott: Don't let your boyfriend Stiles distract you.

Derek: Stiles and I aren't dating.

Stiles: We aren't? Then what about the movie nights, the late night dinners, the amazing sex, the...

Derek: Wait, are we dating?

Isaac: Good thing you realized it cause you were about to miss your anniversary.

[edison-khc]

these silly boys are so great to me.

10/10 friendship

(reference from Be-Bop High School: Koko Yotaro March (i actually took it of pinterest but ya know, find the origin of the reference))

(also on my redbubble)

[gothic4under4lord]

Unpopular opinion

One of the best and most underrated friendships in teen wolf. Like their friendship is so wholesome. Cause no matter what she always tried to include him❤��� stiles and Allison’s friendship ❤️❤️

Like cute friendship ❤️❤️

[takaraphoenix]

The Clever One

(this is a sneak peek for the Steter fic I'm currently working on, where Stiles realizes in season 1 that Peter's canon behavior toward him is strange, how he never hurts Stiles, never tries to kill him, offers Stiles a choice. He comes to the conclusion that he's Peter's mate. So he sets conditions for Peter, leading to a season 2 rewrite with Alpha Peter. and Alpha Mate Stiles, rebuilding the Hale Pack together.)

--

Stiles walked into the broken, burned out husk of the Hale House like he owned the place. Just to be stopped by a hand on his chest and blue eyes flashing at him from Derek’s annoyed face.

“What are you doing here, Stiles,” Derek growled.

“I’m here to talk to your glorious Alpha,” Stiles tilted his head with an uncaring air.

He was not going to let Derek threaten him. Sure, in the past his heart would jump and he would be afraid, even if he still helped Derek out. Right now, Stiles was fully confident in his own safety. Derek narrowed his eyes in irritation, smelling or hearing that Stiles wasn’t intimidated.

“You fought him, in the hospital. You fought him to protect me,” Stiles argued with a frown. “He killed your sister, Derek. Why did you join him?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Derek was close to snarling.

“Try me,” Stiles threw up his hands. “I understand a lot more than you think.”

This time, Derek did snarl. Just to receive a warning growl from upstairs. A cocky grin spread over Stiles’ lips. He’d known the Alpha was here too. He’d known that as long as Peter was close by, Derek wouldn’t get to do any threatening or bodily harm. The beta ground his teeth and stepped back. Hah. Oh, Stiles was absolutely going to revel in the fact that he now outranked Derek. Alpha Mate beat out the Alpha’s right-hand. His grin turned a note of shit-eating.

“He was in a coma for six years. Slowly healing. Aware of everything around him. You couldn’t understand what that is like for a wolf, especially…” Derek swallowed hard, looking away. “Everyone was dead, me and Laura were gone. He was alone with it all.”

“He went insane,” Stiles nodded. “I feel like we established the insanity part in the hospital. You fought him in the hospital. I want to know what changed since then.”

“He’s still healing,” Derek’s voice dropped even more. “He wasn’t fully healed when he killed Laura, he was… feral. Acting on instincts. Seeking to get better. Becoming Alpha… did that.”

Stiles could hear it. He could hear the despair in Derek’s voice. Stiles closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh. Asking Derek was useless, Derek desperately wanted to believe this. Because what was the other option? That his only living family had willingly, or even joyfully, murdered Derek’s sister? No. Of course did Derek cling onto the hope that things could get better now.

“Okay,” Stiles sighed. “You can go now, Derek.”

The beta stared at him incredulously. “You don’t tell me what to do, Stiles. Werewolf, human. We established this. Why do you think you can tell me what to do, in my own home.”

With all the confidence he could muster did Stiles raise his head, not cowering, holding Derek’s gaze with a calm pulse. “Because Alpha Mate outranks right-hand.”

And oh this felt good. Stiles smirked cockily. Even as a not werewolf, he could feel the tension in the air. The shocked look on Derek’s face – genuine shock, meaning Derek hadn’t put it together yet and Peter hadn’t told him, oh damn, Derek hadn’t even known. A laugh barked out from upstairs.

“I knew you would figure it out on your own. I didn’t think so soon though,” Peter sounded both amused and nearly fond. “Leave us, Derek.”

Grounding his teeth together, Derek shot his uncle one last look before he headed out. Peter only walked into view at the top of the stairs after they could hear the Camaro roar to life and drive off.

“Tell me that he’s right,” Stiles ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me that you are still healing. Getting better. Because, you know, the bit where you mauled one of my best friends-”

“She was all over you,” Peter growled, his eyes flashing red. “You were all over her.”

Stiles swallowed, the cockiness cracking some. Not because the growling and red eyes intimidated him, but because of how much they turned him on. No one had ever been possessive over him. Heck, no one had ever been interested in him. Sure, Lydia had gone to Homecoming with him in the end, but that had been more coercion from Allison and pity than Lydia actually wanting him. Lydia still wanted Jackson. Still loved Jackson. Might always love Jackson.

Peter cleared his throat, all calm and professional again. “I am still healing. The outside heals the fastest, it’s… the inside that needs more time, even with wolf-healing. A large part of me is still very… feral and reduced to base instincts. I attacked her because my inner wolf felt threatened by her, threatened by the way she was making advances on my mate.”

Stiles’ heart jumped a little at that. So he had figured it out, but actually hearing himself referred to as Peter’s mate was something else entirely than figuring it out on his own, for himself. Stiles bit down on his cheek, his arms tightly crossed in front of his chest. Part of him was grateful Peter was still at the top of the stairs. Physical distance between them. This whole conversation was a lot. Though Stiles had come to the realization that he was Peter’s mate, he had not fully come to terms with that fact. He didn’t know what to do with it, or what it could or should or would mean.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” Peter’s voice was soft, which might be the weirdest part of this entire conversation. “Or with you. Not yet. You’re more child than man, Stiles. But I can already tell why my wolf chose you as my mate. You are clever. Brilliant. Tricky. Manipulative. Cunning. Quick-witted. All the qualities I cherish the most.”

Stiles couldn’t help but flush at that. “Yeah, well, don’t make it sound like that’s your grand gesture there, I am not exactly tripping over myself trying to get into your pants either. You turned my best friend into a werewolf, without his consent – even though you proved that you are capable of asking for it when you asked me if I wanted the bite – and you mauled Lydia. I’m not considering you Prince Charming. And from what my research showed, a werewolf mate-bond is something that strengthens and grows over time. So, I guess, you still have time to prove yourself.”

Peter quirked his lips, looking absolutely amused by him. “Prove myself, mh?”

“Again. Maiming and mauling of people I love,” Stiles narrowed his eyes. “You say you don’t want anything romantic or sexual with me yet, but this mate-bond thing is a life-long bond. At one point, you will. Because you’re the wolf here. You can feel it. So, if you want me to be on the same page by then, you better prove yourself to me.”

The grin on Peter’s lips looked near amazed or excited and Stiles didn’t know what to do with that. It was like the Alpha enjoyed being challenged, enjoyed that Stiles wasn’t just swooning at the prospect of having a soulmate, but gave Peter conditions to earn it. Weird.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of,” and it was clearly implied here that Peter didn’t just speak of his werewolf abilities but morally, the depth of the things he was willing to do. “So tell me then, what do you think you can demand of me?”

“What I think I can demand of you? Pretty much anything, as long as it’s about me,” Stiles huffed amused, cocking his head. “You can’t hurt me. I mean, physically can’t. And I think that… even emotionally, you couldn’t, not intentionally. Heck, part of me thinks that you turning Scotty was for me, in a twisted, weird way, because your wolf could smell me all over him, thought it would appeal to me if you had my best friend in your pack. And Lydia. You attacked her irrationally, feral and threatened, but when I asked you to let someone come and help her, you agreed. Because you saw how much her condition was getting to me. I think I can ask pretty much anything of you.”

“Manipulative,” Peter pointed out, and he sounded proud and impressed and pleased. “Well, then.”

“You will never lay a hand on anyone I love again,” Stiles eyes were hard and his voice was cold, his body-language conveying how serious he was. “Not my dad, not Scott, not Scott’s mom, not Lydia. Reign your possessive wolf instincts in. She’s not interested in me anyway. If you ever hurt any of them again, I will put a wolfsbane bullet in you myself.”

“Threatening,” Peter smirked. “Cute.”

“I’m not joking,” Stiles frowned annoyed. “I’m the sheriff’s son. I know how to use a gun. And I know where to get wolfsbane bullets from.”

The playfulness left Peter when he realized that Stiles needed to be taken seriously here. “Okay. Noted down. I don’t plan on hurting my pack anyway. Of which Scott is a part of now, whether he likes it or not. And Lydia, well, the cuts were deep so who knows if she will end up joining my pack too. Your father is safe, I promise you that.”

There was still quip and snark in his voice, but that last sentence was spoken with sincerity and Stiles nodded pleased. “No more turning anyone without their consent. Scott hates this, hates being a werewolf, if he’d had a choice he would have said no. I get that a pack of three isn’t going to do you much good, I know you’re going to turn more people, strengthen the pack. But everyone you bite will first be informed of both the good and the bad, they will be given a choice, and that choice is going to be respected by you. The way you gave me a choice, and respected it.”

“I have no problem with that condition,” Peter waved a dismissive hand. “Scott is more trouble than he is gain to me, as is. A beta who doesn’t want to be a werewolf is not an asset to the pack. Betas who are loyal to their Alpha, who will be willing to listen to their inner wolves, will be assets. I only turned him out of instinct, the need to strengthen my pack while not being… mentally there enough to actually think things through. Believe me, I will plan out my pack in the future.”

“Our,” Stiles corrected unflinchingly. “Alpha Mate. Makes this my pack too, doesn’t it?”

The look on Peter’s face was nearly smug with delight. “Our pack.”

[lyricsandwonder]

[ravengirlblue]

Teen Wolf Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski

An iconic duo. A friendship that reminds me of my best friend and I.

[patolemus]

Stiles sits in the front row at the funeral.

He’s next to Mellisa, who hasn’t been able to stop crying since she got the news. Stiles��� dad had organized the whole thing, talking with the funerary home and picking up the coffin and the arrangements. He’d only asked Melissa what she wanted on the headstone.

Raphael had showed up the day after. For the first time in his life, he’d looked a mess, hair everywhere and clothes wrinkled as he stormed into the house asking what had happened to his son, tears already gathering in his eyes before he even got a look at Melissa’s face. Stiles hadn’t made fun of him. Stiles hadn’t said anything at all. Raphael sits on Melissa’s other side now, and she grips his hand tight enough it turns white. He hasn’t been back for five years.

God, Scott hadn’t seen his had for five years, and now he’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Stiles thinks it still hasn’t sunk in. He’s in the middle of his best friend’s funeral - it’s closed casket because his body was so mangled up that the EMPs could barely recognize him. Stiles had heard his dad on the phone with one of his deputies talking about it, before he’d realized just whose body they were talking about - and it still hasn’t clicked that Scott won’t be coming out of his casket, that this isn’t some kind of sick practical joke for getting him out of bed the night before school started.

Stiles is not crying. He hasn’t cried once since hearing the news. His dad is crying, sitting on his other side. Scott’s like a second son to him.

Was. Scott was like a second son to him. Was because he’s gone now. Because he’s dead.

Scott’s dead.

His best friend since preschool is dead. His brother is dead. The kindest, most caring person in the world is dead. Stiles goaded him into going to the preserve to look for half a dead body - and God, he’s such an asshole. A dead body? What was he even thinking? - and now Scott doesn’t even get to show his face at his own funeral because whatever killed him barely left any of him to bury.

If only he’d stayed. If only he’d told his dad Scott was with him that night instead of leaving him there. But no, Stiles hadn’t wanted Scott to get grounded because he dragged him out of bed, so he’d kept quiet. Even when he’d seen the pair of red eyes and that— that thing in the corner of his eye. Stiles hadn’t said anything. He thought they’d laugh about it at lunch the next day.

Now Scott’s dead.

Scott is dead.

And Stiles knows exactly what did it.

(He’s going to fucking kill it.)

[azraphels]

Inspired by an episode of "The Big Bang Theory" and staying with the theme of my new Thiam-Sterek Fanfic "Fall In Love With A Kiss" coming soon to Ao3

(In my new Thiam there will be no existential, suffering drama of Theo alone where everyone hates him!)

I INTRODUCE YOU....

Lydia has been Theo's best friend since they were seven years old! Ah their discussions about how stupid Stiles was filled their days, along with movie nights (horror movies of course!) and secrets!

Theo met Allison in high school because she started dating Scott. It was really a troubled affair between Scott and Allison, they were on and off for quite some time and Theo didn't know who to listen to! Scott was stupid and just screwed up, and Theo felt sorry for Allison!

Malia met her in junior year when she moved out and started dating Stiles (definitely bad breakup apparently!) but still they hated each other especially because Theo always stays at her house! (Peter's fault of course!)

For Theo, Kira is so innocent that she doesn't know why she is his friend! She was an ex of Scott's but their affair had lasted only a year and then Kira got a crush on Malia but she was still dating Stiles... Luckily, Theo's policy was "Never have romantic relationships with your friends, you always get in trouble!"!!'

Theo has endured too many conversations about his friends' sizes and how they have sex to say with certainty that this rule has actually saved him a lot of trouble! (Theo would never admit it, but he has been head over heels in love with the same person for two years, without having had any other romantic relationships)

"Theo Raeken's ✨Council Of Ladies✨" meets every Thursday night!

A cup of tea, a fancy dress, lots of pastries and a big white cloth and a projector!

Bridgerton awaits them!

(READ THE TAGS!!!)

[dreamlandforever]

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 5 - Sun

I have to be honest, this whole writing something everyday is getting harder and harder, and we haven't finished the first week yet. Either way, here's today's story:

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 1.6K

AO3

V. Damsel in Distress

The sunlight coming through the window was illuminating Stiles’ notebook. He frowned slightly, unable to read some of his notes from the glare on his mechanical pencil. Before he was able to even move the notebook to avoid the glare, something covered the light and he was suddenly able to see what he had written in the notebook again. Stiles said nothing and continued reading, taking advantage of the fact that he could now read without trouble. 

When they were in middle school, Scott would sit down and play with Stiles for a few minutes without saying anything. Once the first few games were won or lost, Scott would talk a mile a minute, much too fast for just anyone to understand, getting whatever was bothering him off his chest. So, Stiles gave him a full five minutes before his impatience got the best of him. 

“You know, there’s an actual door downstairs.” He said, going for nonchalance but failing for a mile. The eagerness in his voice to find out why his best friend was there, especially entering his room via the window when he literally has a key, is more than obvious even if said best friend wasn’t a werewolf.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t one?” And the way that the joke falls flat makes Stiles turn for the first time to face his best friend.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, all business. Because if he’s learned anything the last few years is that things can go bad in an instant. 

“Why did you do it?” Scott asked softly, stepping inside the room to sit in Stiles’ bed.

And Stiles should have really seen that coming. He moved carefully, being mindful of his leg. Ever since they were kids, Scott has always been the kind of kid to try and help anyone who might be injured. Showing any kind of pain right now will only make Stiles’ situation worse.

“You were in trouble.” Stiles said simply. Because to him, it made sense.

Scott knows him enough for the answer to be enough as well. 

“Stiles, I am a werewolf.” He sounded a lot more wounded that Stiles had thought he would, but he waited him out. “I heal.” His voice was almost too low for Stiles to catch, but not quite.

“It still hurts, Scott. We are best friends. They tried to kill you.” He spoke slowly, as if he were explaining things to a child. Last night they had been attacked by hunters. They had gone after Scott, and he was distracted trying to get Liam away from the arrows and bullets, when one of them was standing right behind with a knife. Stiles did not have to think twice before standing right in the middle, taking a stab to his leg, but giving Scott and Liam enough time to get away. A wolfsbane laced stab wound would heal for him, and it might have meant something far worse for either of the wolves. Luckily for them, not much happened after that once Chris Argent had reached them and called the hunters off. 

A lot more trigger happy hunters had been coming down to Beacon Hills since Gerard died, thinking there was no one around to guard the land. They usually don’t get into situations as dire as last night, but they had been caught off guard in the middle of the woods, only Isaac, Scott, Liam, and Stiles. They had been surrounded before they had a chance to realize what was going on.

“You don’t get in the middle of that!” Scott half-yelled, exasperated. “Maybe next time I’ll just kill you myself, it will go much faster!” 

“It’s who we are!” Stiles was yelling now, but he wasn’t able to stop himself. “And I got stabbed in the leg, Scott, I wasn’t trying to hold my entrails inside. Which you have done before, might I add. You were in trouble, Scott. It’s not werewolves and humans, you know that. That doesn’t apply only to when I’m in trouble, or I speak up during a meeting. It applies all the time!” Scott’s face was enough for Stiles to know Scott knew that. 

“I know.” He mumbled. “But when the hell did a stab wound become something normal, Stiles? It isn’t. You shouldn’t have to know what that feels like. Or how to treat it. Or how to keep it hidden, Stiles.” 

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” Stiles said solemnly. 

“Don’t you dare quote Batman at me right now.” But there was a small smile on his face, even if he was trying his best to hide it.

“We are brothers, Scott. Your fight is my fight.” 

“So you decided to be Daphne?” 

“Hey! Daphne is a great addition. And I was not a damsel in distress. I was fully aware of what was going to happen. I made sure he hit the leg and not my spleen!” 

“You’re our strategist, let me be the fighter, will you?” 

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but he just smiles sadly at Scott. They both know they will be at this point again next time. Because they always do. Stiles will do what he has to, and Scott will worry.

“Why the window?” Stiles asked finally, standing in front of it and letting the sun bathe his face. It felt good after any kind of injury to remember that he was alive. That they had pulled through.

“Your dad was at the door having words with Derek.”

“WHAT?” Stiles asked, way louder than he had expected himself to be.

“Apparently, the Sheriff does know when you are limping, and he decided to blame Derek.”

“He wasn’t even there last night!”

“Derek was indeed trying to say that.” Scott conceded. 

Stiles made a move to go downstairs, and Scott was immediately by his side acting as his crutch. Stiles just let it happen, and made it downstairs in half the time it would have taken him on his own.

The Sheriff looked at them from his position on the couch next to Derek, both with a beer in hand.

“It wasn’t Derek’s fault!” Stiles defended valiantly the moment both his feet were off the stairs.

Derek was by his side almost immediately, crouching down to check at his injury. Stiles fought him off, but Scott the Traitor moved to help Derek look while holding Stiles still.

“You'll be fine.” Derek said finally, standing back up and turning to the Sheriff. “He’ll probably limp for a few days, and it will take a few days for it to heal, but it’s mostly superficial. The hunter probably thought the wolfsbane would do the job, not the stab wound.”

The Sheriff nodded, before letting out a sigh. “Are the rest of the kids okay?”

Derek just nodded. “Chris got there in time. Stiles getting in the middle of whatever was happening was not… the worst thing. When they hurt a human it made them hesitate. Also, not having one of us be poisoned is always good.” He turned to Stiles then, brows furrowed. “That does not mean you get to pull shit like that again. Ever. You see a knife and you run the other way.” 

Stiles was about to complain, but ended up remaining silent. He nodded with a smile. This dance he was familiar with, too. Somewhere in between trying to stay alive and becoming a Pack, Derek Hale had become a friend. A friend who worried. A friend his father had just yelled at.

“Wait! Why were the two of you having words?” He asked, confused.

Derek just shook his head. “I heard what happened, wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t.” Stiles answered immediately, like it hadn’t already been established.

Derek completely ignored him. “They told me you got stabbed and that Scott was sulking.”

“I wasn’t sulking!” Scott defended himself, dragging Stiles to a nearby chair.

“You so were, bro.” Stiles said. Because if Scott could betray him then so could he. Scott shot him a look, but still sat right next to him and helped him prop his leg high on another chair. 

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t dying from gangrene and the Sheriff was on his way out. We just went over a few details of what happened.” Derek explained, the tip of his ears turning a very interesting shade of pink.

“I need you to be more careful.” The Sheriff said to Stiles, arms crossed over his chest. 

“He’s not allowed to die on us.” Scott said solemnly, arm firm and unmoving from Stiles’ shoulder. 

And the Sheriff just nodded, like that made sense. It didn’t make sense to Stiles.

But then Derek nodded too.

“He’s not.” He agreed.

“Glad we all established that?” Stiles asked nervously. “I want to go for a walk.” His leg hurt, and he was not going to spend all afternoon trying to understand what unspoken conversation and weird camaraderie thing was going on with his dad and one of the Alphas. He could focus on that when he felt no pain. 

Derek rolled his eyes, but helped Scott by acting as Stiles’ crutch on his other side.

“We'll bring him back in a few minutes, when he gets tired.” Scott said to the Sheriff, guiding Stiles towards the door.

“Hey! I can so stand a lot more than a few minutes.” Stiles defended.

“Come on, let’s see if we can get you to tan a little.” Scott said, and Stiles followed obediently. His friends were okay, and he was going to be okay, too. He could deal with some awkward conversations every now and then if it meant they were all alive at the end of day. 

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Scott in 3a literally never saying “STILES” in a “no wait STOP” kinda way, but multiple other people saying it is just so funny to me. Like Scott learned YEARS ago that there’s just no stopping his best friend, but the others still need to learn that this skinny defenseless human doesn’t listen to anyone ever

[twpromptsillneverwrite]

Scott: Okay, Stiles. You can do it.

Stiles: Hey, Derek! Do you wanna hang out? You know going on a date... With me. I mean, it's okay if you can't you're probably busy and...

Scott: No, no, no, this is not what we practiced.

Meanwhile

Boyd: Okay, one more time.

Derek: Stiles, we are going on a date so you better be ready when I pick you up!

Isaac: You can't force him!

Erica: That was hot.

Isaac: Don't encourage him!

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Man the parallels really hurting tonight. Something about the way these scenes were shot really drive that home for me.

If I could more eloquently describe this parallel I would by instead yall get this. I had to think this though now so do all of you.

[cheymonster]

[bimafe]

on particularly rough nights, scott and stiles slept in each other's arms, offering comfort, peace and security.