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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

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Blue Moon - Part 1

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,746

Xxx

“So what’s it like living with a Hale?” Stiles asked, turning away from your locker after you shut it. Both of you fell into step with Scott as you made your way to your next class.

You must have grimaced or made some face with a slight slant of your eyebrows only a Stilinski could read, because Stiles let out a snort. “That bad?”

You shrugged, sighing. “I mean, it’s not like I expected it to be a walk in the park, it is Derek Hale after all.” Scott chuckled with a gentle shake of his head, making you smile before you continued. “But I didn’t expect it to be this…. easy….. either.”

“Easy?” Scott questioned, making the same face you must have initially as Stiles let out another snort of laughter.

“Yeah, I mean, the first few days were awkward. If we weren’t training we weren’t doing anything. The man is silent, had no TV, or any of that-”

“Wait, ‘had’?” Stiles held out his hand, effectively cutting off your sentence and your steps, your shoes screeching on the floor at the sudden stop.

“Yes, had. He now has a TV, streaming services- yes, Stiles, services as in plural, if you keep your eyebrows that high they may stick that way, and it’s not the best look for you…”

“So at least there is something to fill the silence at least.” Scott resumed walking, you followed a few steps behind, Stiles lagging, jaw still dropped in shock.

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with Scott, and this time you felt your eyebrows making the face.

“But….?” Scott’s prodding was gentle, but his face held a smirk.

“But somewhere along the way we went from off handed comments during a news broadcast, or some show we were watching, to actually pausing it to have some discussion, or referencing some situation later and asking if the other had had something similar happen, or just opening up about random experiences and stuff. It’s…”

“Weird?” This time Stiles prodded, earning a glare and gentle whack on the arm from Scott.

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re…. new.” Scott opted for a more discrete word for ‘werewolf’ in the crowded hallways. “He may feel like opening up more because of the pack mentality and all.”

“No, it’s not because she’s…. new.” Stiles raised one eyebrow on the word as he addressed Scott, earning a sigh and eye roll from the young Beta. “The man is a brooding wall of leather and growls.” You chuckled at the description, making Stiles grin. “I think we finally found our miracle cure for our Sourwolf!”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up.” You held up your hands as if to physically stop their words. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We know you two like each other. It’s so obvious.” Stiles immediately closed his mouth, his lips a tight line, eyes wide and eyebrows in his hairline in his signature “I was not supposed to say that” face.

“What?” you deadpanned to your friend.

The bell rang, and Scott, wide eyed and smiling too broadly, gave Stiles a shove on the shoulder in the opposite direction of your next class as Stiles muttered, “Oh, look. The bell.” They both began to walk quickly the opposite way.

“Guys!” you yelled. “This is not over! But I am not responsible for you guys missing another class, what does that make, like fifteen already this semester?”

Your two friends stilled and turned on their heels, ushering past you quickly, avoiding your glare, Stiles looking at Scott and muttering, “See, Scott? I told you our class with Miss Blake was this way.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled under your breath. The sour expression stayed on your face even after you sat at your desk in the back of the class.

Chuckling, Stiles chanced a glance your way from beside you, hoping to change the subject from his ultimate fail in the hallway. “You still don’t like her?”

“I still don’t like her.” You overlapped his last few words, matching his gentle nod with one of your own as you stared straight ahead at the teacher’s still vacant desk.

“What is it about her you don’t like?”

“I just have a really bad feeling whenever I see her. Something just isn’t right.”

Scott chuckled, opening his book to the proper page. “You’re just mad that she gives you a little bit of a harder time.”

“You mean she gives me ‘more attention’?” you asked, your words rising to a ridiculous octave as they repeated Jennifer’s words she had used when she assigned you some extra credit to help raise your grade so you could stay on the lacrosse team. Your friends chuckled at your words. “I’m sorry, not everyone can be amazing at everything, being a wer-” you stopped yourself, clearing your throat before continuing- “new-” you looked at Scott pointedly, earning you a glare and Stiles’ laughter on your other side- “doesn’t allow for a whole lot of extra studying time.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. I know you feel that way now, but it will pass,” Scott said with a smile as Miss Blake walked in, setting things on her desk, and he chuckled as you glared at her. “This is all ephemeral.”

You looked at Stiles, your face blank, voice a deadpan. “You ever buy him a word of the day subscription thing again, and I will rip your throat out.” You flickered your yellow eyes at him discreetly. “With my teeth.”

“With your teeth,” Stiles mumbled, overlapping your words, both of you nodding in agreement again. “I asked what it’s like living with a Hale, and now I got my answer.” He looked at you, shaking his head mockingly. “You’re becoming one of them. It’s contagious. We’ll call it ‘Sourwolf Syndrome’.”

Xxx

Due to your parents’ professions taking them all over the place constantly, like Allison, you were actually a year older than your friends, having to repeat a year a few grades back. But you wouldn’t change it for anything, because that’s how you met your best friends.

It helped that your parents were away on business most of the time, so no one questioned your staying at Derek’s loft for so long. You stopped by every few days to get the mail and check on the plants around the house, packing some new clothes if needed, Derek sitting outside in his car the first few times, but lately he had taken to coming in and helping you do the few things you had to do.

You told yourself it was just because of the increased threat that he wanted to be closer to his newest Beta. He didn’t have too many of those these days, you thought bitterly, smirking to yourself. You stared blankly as you rinsed out your coffee cup in the sink, and a wave of sadness washed over you as you thought of Erica, her absence still fresh and raw. The two of you had never really been close; just acquaintances at school, then pack members briefly, before she was gone.

Boyd had really withdrawn himself after that, and you didn’t blame him. You knew he probably felt how you did times ten. When Cora had been here briefly she mentioned losing a pack member was like losing a limb, and she hadn’t been wrong.

Then Derek had kicked both Cora and Isaac out of the loft, claiming it wasn’t safe with the Alpha Pack around. Isaac was staying with Scott, but you didn’t know where Cora had disappeared to. Peter was a wild card, so you didn’t even try to factor him in, and Scott outright refused to be a member of Derek’s pack. He was an Alpha with Beta eyes, and an enigma for another time.

The point was, Derek was running low in the Beta department lately.

The only reason Derek had you staying at the loft and followed you around the house when you had to go was because you were the newest, or so he said. Deep down you knew he just didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to you. He wanted to control the situation as much as possible which, you guessed, you were kind of glad, being new to this whole werewolf thing, and admittedly not wanting to stay home alone again, human or werewolf.

At least at the loft, even in the times before Derek brought home the TV and stuff, the silence had been comfortable. You’d never admit it to anyone, but just being in the presence of another living, breathing being, even one as brooding and somewhat annoying as Derek Hale, was nice.

And you sure as hell weren’t going to think about how he had helped you with your homework sometimes, especially with that English extra credit. He had a side he didn’t share often, and you were glad you got to see it. It was like a rare spotting of a mythological creature.

You smiled to yourself, watching the water in the cup filling clear now, the mug long clean, and you let your feelings wash away down the drain with the water as you turned it off.

Setting the mug in the sink, you took a deep breath, letting the feelings whirling around you fully roll off your back, rolling your shoulders back as they did.

Stepping into the doorway to the living room you saw him delicately watering some houseplant your mom babied. The first few times he had just poured water at its base, and you had to stop him, showing him how it had to be done, otherwise he’d over water it. And since then, though he had said initially that it was stupid under his breath, he took meticulous care to check if it even needed watering, and then watered it properly, like you showed him, even bringing books home to the loft about how to care for the various types of plants your mom had around the house. You found it endearing.

Smiling softly, you gently shook your head. One second you were bitter towards him, the next finding little things that made him amazing. “I’m going to go grab some clothes, my stuff got torn to hell last week when we dealt with what’s his face,” you said offhandedly, starting up the stairs. So many baddies came through this town, you got them all confused.

Derek chuckled. “Okay. You know you can always borrow some of my clothes if you need to.”

You stopped midstep on the staircase, each foot on a different step, and your grip on the bannister tightened, your knuckles turning white.

This.

This is why you had such conflicting emotions about this man. Wolf. Wolfman.

“Are you sure?” You kept your voice even, smiling softly.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, makes more sense then driving all the way over here.” His voice tried to be neutral, but it was evident he was trying to cover up something he had let slip before really thinking about it.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.” You nodded once to each other before you took two steps calmly and then practically ran up the rest of them to your room.

Holding a hand to your chest, taking deep breaths to try and stabilize your heartbeat, you slumped against the door after you closed it, sighing.

You tried not to over analyze what he said, but failed.

You knew he probably was making some underhanded comment about your abilities, “coming all the way over here”, really he wanted to say, “you suck at being a werewolf, you’re always getting hurt and your clothes destroyed in the process”.

“You too, wolfman. You too,” you mumbled under your breath as you angrily rifled through one of your drawers, grabbing a few things.

You chuckled a dark laugh. “But I’m an Alpha, Y/N. I’ll heal faster.” You mocked his deep tone, your search in your drawer turning into an aimless activity, the contents totally mixed up now.

He had never been around whenever you had gotten in a hit or takedown on the baddies you guys had encountered so far in your short time in this world. For some reasons you ended up on opposite sides of the battle fields, and he never said it directly, but you knew he probably thought you sucked. How else does one end up with torn shirts from claw marks and blood being covered by your jacket?

Everyone else had called you a badass, but Derek had yet to compliment or even comment on your fighting ability. But maybe, since he trained you, that spoke more to his ability and not yours, you thought with a smirk. Satisfied with the thought, you grabbed a few clothes out of the drawer before snapping it shut.

After a few steps toward the door, you slowed to a stop, absently staring at the clothes in your hand as your thoughts cleared a little from your earlier anger.

If it was a reflection on how he thought he was, that was kind of sad. Did he really think so lowly of himself and his abilities?

You had only been in this world a short time now, but even you had to admit he was a good Alpha. A good wolfm- werewolf. A good man. He was a great person to have at your back in a fight and in mundane things like math, which was also a fight, but that was a thought for another day. He was a good friend to have, period.

Shaking your head and chuckling gently at yourself, you wondered why your thoughts were everywhere. Glancing at your calendar on the wall, you saw the full moon was coming up soon and rolled your eyes. Of course.

This would pass. This was ephemeral. You groaned softly as you made your way back down the stairs. Stiles was going to pay.

Derek met your eyes when you made it to the last step, hopping the last few inches to the first floor. He set down the watering can softly.

“Do I really sound like that?” His lips twitched upward slightly.

Screwing up your face in confusion it took you a second to realize he had heard your mutterings as you disorganized the contents of your drawer upstairs. Realization crossed your face before your palm slapped to your forehead, the groan passing your lips before you could stop it.

Derek laughed, and you looked at him apologetically, to which he motioned with his hand as if waving it away and smiled at the floor where his gaze was focused. “Don’t worry about it. I just always thought my voice was deeper than that.”

He chuckled even more as you swatted his arm, laughing gently yourself. He grabbed your wrist playfully before you could withdraw your hand, and you found yourself pulled closer to him, almost toe to toe and having to crane your neck to look up and meet his eyes that looked down at you with some emotion you couldn’t decipher.

That comfortable silence hung around you two like a blanket… Until his phone rang.

As he fished it out of his pocket, you softly cleared your throat and took a small step back, feeling Derek’s gaze on you the whole time.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff and annoyed, and he was still staring at you. It almost seemed like he was upset at whoever was on the other end for interrupting his moment with you.

But that thought quickly evaporated.

“Jennifer!” He said it with a broad smile on his face, his voice a total about face from his greeting, and his eyes moving from you to the wall behind you.

It couldn’t be who you thought. There was no way. That would be too much of a coincidence.

“No, I’m not busy,” he said, turning to the door.

Grabbing his arm to stop him, he turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in question and, if you weren’t mistaken, slight annoyance.

“What?” he mouthed.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

“A friend,” he hissed.

“Who is it?” you hissed back at him.

“Your English teacher, Jennifer Blake.” He shrugged out of your grip and out your front door, motioning you to the car.

You seethed as you turned off the lights, grabbing your bag of clothes, and locking the door after you.

Reason number five hundred and sixty two to hate Miss Jennifer Blake.

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra What’s This?

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andreafmn · 3 years

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I’m Not Afraid - Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,585

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 2/?

A/N: SOFT DEREK, SOFT DEREK!!!!! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 2

5:00 am my phone read.

It was usual for my brain to be awake at this hour. Since before I can remember it was part of the schedule I followed, everywhere I went. It was a small thing, but the sense of normalcy was a comforting friend. It made sense to follow a routine I could have anywhere. I was out of bed and into workout clothes, ready for a quick jog around the woods.

I started off with a slow and comfortable trot before speeding up once I reached the tree-filled terrain. The smell of wet soil, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling, the crunching of leaves under my feet was oddly comforting. There was a strange pull that came from the heart of Beacon Hills. I had lived in many places in my short lifetime but this place was different, the atmosphere was different, the people were different. One of those people was Derek Hale, the mysterious, broody, sarcastic man that had bumped his way in.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Why are you stopping?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping his mouth.

"How did you get here? Where the hell did you come from?"

"You're not the only person who jogs in this town and this happens to be the trail I take. You know, you should work out on a trail that is closer to your house. Makes it easier to actually go back."

I looked around. Once again, I had trailed off and didn't know where I was. "Lucky for you, I have a great memory. We can finish off running and I'll instruct you back to your house."

"You know you sound like a stalker." We started to jog once again.

"How so?"

"Well, you've only been there like two or three times and you already know the way back. Creepy!"

"Oh, come on, it means that I have a very sharp memory. Unlike you who can't seem to remember what house you live in."

"Touché."

The con and occasionally laughing at something. It felt good talking to him, almost natural. There was a supernatural attraction that I felt when I was near him, an unusual need for his closeness. Our relationship came easy, as the cliché would have it, it felt like I had known him all my life.

We ran for about an hour and a half before we turned back. "I think it's time we went back. You have school in an hour."

"Whoa, take the stalking down a notch."

"Oh, come on, I went to that school before you, I think I know the schedule."

"Alright, grandpa. Let's head back. It's time for your breakfast smoothie and then some bingo."

"Very funny." He ruffled my hair whilst fake laughing.

"I try." We ran and ran until I came into view of the curb that led to the house. "Well, this is my exit. Would it be too much to ask for you to take me to school?"

"Not a problem. Meet you back here at 7:45?"

"That would be perfect." He kissed my cheek and left to run to where I believe was his house. My face turned red, and I ducked inside.

"Mom? Dad?" I entered the kitchen and noticed a note over a covered plate. "Left for work early. Eat your food and go to school." I read out loud.

I took my time getting ready for school. My bag was already packed, as was my lunch. A long shower and a slow breakfast were in store as I awaited Derek's black Camaro to roll into my driveway.

"Thanks so much for the lift. I packed you some breakfast."

"No problem and thank you." He smiled. "You know, maybe after school, I can finally give you a tour around town. So you can familiarize yourself."

"That would be wonderful." I checked my schedule. "Actually, you can pick me up an hour before school ends. I have study hall at that hour, and no one would care if I left."

"I think I can make that arrangement." He looked at me showing a perfect set of white teeth and a smile that would make anyone melt. "But wouldn't your parents know that you left school? I mean, you won't be there when they go pick you up."

"I'll just tell them Allison gave me a ride or walked home," I said thinking of more excuses I could tell my parents. Distracted by my thoughts, my hand started reaching out to the powered-off radio and I didn't notice that so did Derek's. A sharp current went up my arm as our hands make contact. We both quickly pulled away and I could feel the blood rushing to my face turning it a deep shade of red.

"Sorry, I shouldn't impose. It's your car." I spoke up, quick to start picking at the skin around my fingernails to busy my hands. Derek perceived the nervous nature of my actions and stopped my fussing by putting one of his hands over mine.

"Don't worry it's fine. Just put the radio on whatever station you like." He smiled reassuringly and I reached to the radio and just turned it on, leaving it in the last station it had been on.

"Ugh, I absolutely dread going to school. Most of it I'm gonna forget either way."

"I'd tell you to ditch but that would be shame on me, so I won't. But think about it, this day you'll only get 7 hours of school and then you can hang out with me. Best present ever."

"Yeah, don't think so highly of yourself. Maybe I'll just wander around town until I find my way home."

"Very funny." He stopped at the drop-off zone. "This is your stop."

"Thanks again for the ride, awfully kind actions from such a sour wolf" I laughed at his scowl. "I'll see you in the afternoon."

"Looking forward to it." I exited the car and he waited till I was on the sidewalk to speed off.

"Was that Derek Hale that just dropped you off?" I turned around and was met face-to-face with Scott.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" Not that it will matter.

"You shouldn't trust him, he's bad news."

"Honestly, Scott, I understand your good intentions, but I'll sort out the wrong kind on my own terms." He looked taken aback at my response, probably thinking I would not talk back.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, but he is not a person that anyone should be with." With that, he left with worry evident on his face.

I understood that he was looking out for my "well-being”, but he didn't know me and I'm pretty sure he didn't know Derek either. Maybe that's what Derek meant when I met him. Everyone thinks he is a bad person, but he hasn't done anything wrong in my eyes.

I walked over to my locker and started exchanging my books. Closely next to me I could hear Scott talking to Allison about me and Derek, and my name should be out of his mouth. Once I finished with my locker, I slammed the door and they both stopped talking, noting my close presence. I walked past them feeling their worried stares burning my back. This was going to be a hell of a year. The only thing that could get me through it was the acquaintance relationship I have with Isaac. I did text him a bit last night but mostly helping him with homework. Lord knows he needs all the help he can get.

We all stood around in gym class as Stiles and Erica climbed the rock wall. Everyone else had gone including Scott who mastered a great fall. Stiles appeared to have fun, but Erica would let out sounds of discomfort and shortness of breath as she climbed. At a point, she stopped.

"Erica, are you dizzy?" Coach said. "Is it vertigo?"

"Vertigo is the dysfunction of the vesicular system of the inner ear" Lydia stated in a mocking tone. "She's just freaking out."

"Erica!" Coach screamed.

"coach, maybe it’s not safe. you know she's epileptic." Allison stated. How does no one care?

"Wh-why does no one tell me this?!" Coach Finstock questioned annoyed. "Erica, just fall back, there's a mat that will catch you."

She slowly let go of the wall and made her descent. No one seemed to care that the poor girl was shaken to the core; they all laughed.

When class was over everyone headed to their respective locker rooms to change. Something inside me kept pulling me back to the gym, so I walked back as I put on my shirt. As I opened the doors, I saw Erica fall from the wall and luckily into Scott's arms. He slowly put her on the floor as the class ran in behind us.

"Put her on her side," I stated.

"How did you know?" Allison whispered to Scott.

"I just felt it." He whispered back.

After Erica had calmed, the coach called an ambulance to take her to be checked at the hospital and the day went by normally. I was currently in my "last" period. Tapping my nails in a rhythmic pattern waiting for the stupid bell to ring. Only 5 more minutes and I would be out of here. This was the first time I had done something like this. I always stick by the rules and make sure to follow all of them. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweating. In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cue the bell. I grabbed all my things and stuffed them in my bag. I used to my advantage the fact that everyone was piled in the hallway and headed outside. Waiting for me was Derek in his black Camaro. Suddenly my heart steadied its pace and I felt relaxed.

"Hey there, rebel." He smirked at me as I entered the car and buckled my seatbelt.

"Don't make small talk. Just go." I said whilst trying to hide by burrowing in the seat. If I could I would have jumped into the trunk to avoid any hidden stares from authority figures.

"Don't tell me you've never done this before." I shook my head no and felt my face growing warmer by the second. "Aw, you're so innocent. For a big mouth that is." I slapped his arm as hard as I could.

"Don't be rude." I crossed my arms, slouched down, and pouted. He looked over at me and laughed. That made me slouch farther down.

"Oh, come on. Don't get mad." He ruffled my hair and laughed once again when I swatted his hand away. "Yeesh, feisty."

"So, where's our first pit stop?" I asked whilst looking out the window not wanting to look at his face.

"A small diner I know. Wouldn't want you to starve." He smirked. "Might make you angrier."

"I am not angry, just annoyed."

"Got some feelings hurt?" He said laughing.

"Derek, don't be rude. You will regret it."

"Oh, what could you do?"

"Is that a challenge?" He didn't answer, just laughed. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out. "HELP!! This man is kidnapping me!! HELP!! Bloody he...!"

My sentence was cut short by Derek's hand pulling me down by my jacket and onto the seat again.

"Why did you do that?" I asked innocently. I had caused the faces of a few people on the street to look at the car in horror.

"You know why! That was totally uncalled for."

"I told you that being rude was something you would regret. I'm not one to say this a lot but, I told you so."

He tried his best to keep a tight scowl on his face but in a matter of seconds, we were laughing at my past actions.

"Whatever, we're here." He turned off the car and went to the passenger side to open the door for me.

"Why thank you," I said and took his extended hand to pull my weight up.

"No problem." I smiled at his goofy courtesy but as we walked inside the establishment I could feel my heart beating faster by the second. "Table for two." Derek pointed at a booth made for two people exactly. Once we had sat down a lady maybe in her late thirties approached us to take our order.

"What do you want to order today, darlings?" She gave us a warm smile as she waited for our response.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with some onion rings, a stack of pancakes, and some chicken fillets, a Diet Coke, and afterward some pie, please."

"Would you like the kitchen sink with that?" I said in shock. "I think I'll just get the, ummmm, bacon cheeseburger also with some onion rings and an iced tea. Maybe add some pie afterward too."

The lady laughed a bit, nodded, and smiled at us as she turned to the kitchen to put out our order.

"So, someone's a bit hungry. Huh, sour wolf?" I chuckled.

"Why do you call me that?" He said somewhat annoyed.

"I don't know. It just fits you."

"How?"

"Cause you're very sour and you kind of look like a wolf. Hairy face and crazy hair. I don't know how to explain it. It's just a nickname, though. If it makes you mad I can just call you something else."

"I'm not mad. Just wondering." He slouched on the seat looking less tense. "How is it that I'm usually so bad with meeting people yet with you, I just clicked?"

"I don't know. I'm just special that way."

"Very funny."

"I know! I could take up a career in comedy." He chuckled as he threw a sugar packet at me. "So, since we are getting to know each other we should know basic things about one another. Let me start. What's your favorite color?"

"Maybe black or blue. What about you?"

"Totally red and black." The waitress came with our drinks. I took a sip of my iced tea and continued with the questions. "Favorite place to be?"

"That house in the woods where we met." I gave him a weird look.

"Why there? It barely stands with a foundation. What could possibly be there?"

"It's the house I used to live in before it burnt down. My family was in there." I choked on my drink when he said this.

"Oh my gosh, Derek. I'm so sorry I brought it up. We can drop the topic."

"Don't worry about it. It happened such a long time ago it's sometimes relieving talking about it." After there was an awkward silence, so Derek cleared his throat and asked a question. "Um, and what's your favorite place to be?"

"I'm not sure. Usually, I like places more because of the people I'm with. But if I had to choose probably the woods, it's the calmest place I know. The only place where you can actually be free."

"Wow, Ms. Argent. So poetic. It touched me." He pointed at his heart. "Right here."

"Very funny, now, favorite sport?" And the game went on even when our food served. Whilst eating we kept asking each other questions and getting to know each other profoundly. This has been the first time I had ever opened up to someone. It felt strange. Letting someone know small details about yourself. Making yourself vulnerable to them. Showing them how they could break you. But this was different. I felt like I was just becoming closer to him.

"We should do that someday. I mean the thought of just leaving for a whole day, not knowing where you are going, just finding an adventure."

"Definitely. You decide when the first time." I smiled at him.

"That's a deal." He looked down at his watch. "I think it's time I take you home. Don't want your parents to worry."

"Alright. Let's go." I grabbed my bag and was about to pay my part of the check, but he wouldn't let me. He grabbed the money I left and paid completely. "I don't understand the need of being such a gentleman if this wasn't a date. Just two people hanging out."

"So, this wasn't a date?"

"You thought it was?" I thought about it. "What do you classify a date per se?"

"An outing in which two people go out and get to know each other a little bit more." What he said made sense. It had never dawned on me that this could have been anything other than just a casual outing, but not being too well versed in normal social encounters, let alone dating encounters.

"Alright, you win. I have officially gone on my first date."

"No way. This could not have been your first date." When he saw the serious look on my face, he stopped chuckling. "I'm so sorry you had to have given you such a crappy first date. I promise I'll make up for it one day."

"Deal." We even shook on it. "Now let's get going before my parents know I'm late."

During the drive back, he pointed out different key places I should know when going around Beacon Hills as well as easier routes to these places. Although I was heavily grateful for all the useful tips, my brain could hardly remember the first route he showed me.

When we got to my house, I noticed that my father's car was not in there. I guess they haven't arrived yet. I said goodbye to Derek and entered the house, thanking him for a lovely afternoon. I changed into workout attire and, deciding to stay home, went to the basement and started working out. After half an hour of running and half an hour of physical training, I decided it was enough and went to take a shower. I noticed that my parents weren't home yet.

"I wonder what's holding them back?" After my shower, I continued my current read of Pride and Prejudice. But something was bothering me, a thought that wouldn't leave my head.

I'm leaving once the year is over. Getting close to Derek will fuck me up once I leave. I've never had to say goodbye to anyone. I can't start now. I'll need to start avoiding him. Don't know how, but I must try.

I went downstairs to get a glass of water when I heard a knock on the door. It was Uncle Chris.

"Hey, Uncle Chris. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for your father. Is he here?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I got here and neither mom nor dad was here. Is something wrong?"

"No. Just couldn't reach his cell. I'm sure he's fine. Have a good night, sweetheart." He kissed my forehead and left. I started to worry. What if something had happened?

So, I decided to call him. Fortunately, he picked up.

"Dad, where are you?"

"Oh, honey, I forgot to tell you. Your mom and I will be out for the rest of the week. We left some money on the first drawer of the right side of the kitchen island and if you want you can stay with your uncle."

"But Uncle Chris came by and he didn't know where you were. Does he know you left?"

"Oh, I forgot to call him. I'll do that right now. Goodnight, munchkin, go to sleep."

"Goodnight, dad. Love you."

"Love you too." I hung up the phone and went upstairs completely forgetting about the glass of water I went to drink.

My phone buzzed and I looked at the caller ID signaling that Isaac was calling.

"Hey, Isaac."

"Hey, (Y/N). Um, do you think you can pick me up?" Isaac said in between short pants.

"Sure, where are you?" I asked. He told me where he was, and I took the keys to my mother's car to look for Isaac. He looked scared and frantic when I neared the spot, he told me about. His physique also looked different. Usually, he would walk cowering but now he stood tall and seemed a bit more buff. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just, um, do you think I could stay with you tonight?"

"I guess." I started driving to my house. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, totally. Just tired." I took the hint. He didn't want to talk, and I wasn't going to press on.

At my house, I arranged the guest room and got him spare clothes to change into. He thanked me and left for the bathroom. Something was wrong. But what?

***

Three days had passed.

Three days that I had stayed in my house for my daily workout.

Three days that my phone had been buzzing with messages from Derek asking where I was.

Because three nights before I had decided to avoid Derek at all costs.

The only way to leave it all behind is if you don't associate yourself with anyone. That way you won't feel any remorse or pain once you disappear. One time when I left was when I was approximately six or seven years old, and I had to say goodbye to Allison since we were sharing a room at that time. The second time was when I had to leave Josie. After that, I started familiarizing myself with the feeling of loneliness. It wasn't that bad once you remembered the fact that you would always see your parents when you got home, and everything would be better. Although, these days I had housed Isaac in my house, rare was the occasion that we interacted other than doing homework. Isaac would come home late in the night and quickly went to sleep. But, he stayed in my spare room for two nights and told me he had found a place to stay. He left thanking me for my hospitality.

When I finished my workout, I ran upstairs and took a shower. I changed from my stinky workout clothes to a plain white shirt and black jeans, obviously paired with my leather jacket. Once dressed I went downstairs and grabbed some cash to buy myself a muffin and a big coffee. Finally, I found the keys to my beautiful matte black Harley Fat Bob. My father had gotten me this motorcycle about two years back when he noticed I just kept crashing cars. The only thing I never crashed was his motorcycle and because he was worried I would, he bought me my own. I tend to wreck a lot of stuff. It's not intentional, I'm just clumsy at times.

I opened the door to the garage and noticed it sitting in a corner covered by a blanket. Once I took it off, I smiled. I passed my hand over the beautiful color, the smooth surface, the cold metal. It all felt familiar. A part of me. I grabbed my helmet and got on it. Once I sat my body felt relaxed, at ease. A spark of adrenaline was shot through my body when the engine came to life.

I backed up from the garage and went to the local café store. While waiting to pick up my order I noticed Derek walking in with his jogging clothes on. He still hasn't noticed me, too busy looking at the menu. When my name was called, he looked at me and called my name, but I ran out of the café with my order ignoring him.

When I got to the school everyone was staring at me. The new chick was now badass. I walked in with my backpack slung over my shoulder easing towards my locker.

"Hey there, gorgeous." I closed the locker door to see Jackson standing next to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Hi, Jackson. What do you want?"

"I was just wondering when you were free."

"Oh, well from tomorrow to never gonna happen. Get down from the cloud, buddy."

"Oh, come on, we both know you want some of this." He motioned over his body.

"Get over yourself." I scoffed.

"Babe, it doesn't hurt to try."

"I believe she's not interested, Jackson." A strawberry blonde girl appeared. Her confidence struck me like lightning, a very apparent aura of dominance radiating from within her.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Lydia. I'm talking to her, not you. You've already ruined everything else."

"Well, I think she has no business with you so why don't you scram?" With a huff and a puff, Jackson finally gave in and I turned to greet my hero, who was surprisingly accompanied by Allison.

"Thank you, so much. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"No problem. I'm Lydia, but you knew that."

"(Y/N). Argent." She motioned between Allison and me. "Cousins."

"Pleasure." Then the bell rang. "Guess I have a new best friend, (Y/N)." You guessed wrong.

I entered Mr. Harris' classroom and sat down next to Isaac and as usual Mr. Chatty Pants tried to hold a conversation from the table behind us. Seriously, how much can someone talk? I took out my notebook and started writing down everything the teacher was saying is the homework on the board. Stiles had finally gotten the hint and didn't talk to me the whole class. That was a relief. Maybe it was due to the fact he was too focused on the strawberry blonde who had saved my ass from Jackson.

The day went on quite smoothly except at lunch. It wasn't the same Erica that had fallen from the rock-climbing wall. She completely changed; a more confident walk, she was wearing makeup and tight-fitted clothing, and her hair was perfectly styled. She left the lunchroom after taking a bite off an apple seductively and Scott and Stiles followed, as did I. Curiosity had taken the best of me as to this overnight transformation.

She opened the front doors to the school and there he was. Derek Hale in his black Camaro with the biggest smirk on his face staring at Scott. When he directed his sight to me his smirk kind of fell but was brought up quickly. During that Erica had gotten inside the car and they left, together. I don't know why I was jealous because he meant nothing to me, but it broke my heart. I got nervous. I think Scott noticed because he looked at me worried.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" I nodded rapidly and out of breath. I had no idea what was happening.

"I think you're having a panic attack." Stiles pointed out handing me an inhaler.

"I used to have panic attacks, too." I inhaled a pump and my breathing seemed to normalize. "You okay now?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I handed him the inhaler.

"No, keep it. I don't need it anymore." I said a low thanks and walked back to school to head to my next class.

I felt extremely weird the rest of the day. Why did I feel that way when I saw Erica and Derek together? It wasn't like anything was going on between us. Also, he's far too old for me. Or maybe I'm too young. I don't know. But I couldn't shake off that sour taste of jealousy that the image of them left.

I knew I wanted to stay as far away as I could from hin but at this moment there was nothing more that I wanted than to be close to him.

Tag: @lokisgoddesofpower

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A/N: Please check out my last post about the fandoms I’ll be writing for.

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

invisible string

pairing: scott mccall/isaac lahey, background kira yukimura/malia tate and lydia martin/stiles stilinski

fandom: teen wolf

rating: mature

word count: 8924

warning: swearing, alcohol, past child abuse, minor character death, referenced homophobia

summary: When your soulmate gets a tattoo, the same one appears on your skin. And Scott McCall fears that they don't have one. (soulmates au, nonbinary Scott, they/them pronouns)

(hello my loves, i’ve been working on this project for @augustwritingchallenge for ages and it’s finally done! i missed scisaac and self projected on scott so yeah. thank you to my beloved Kaz for beta-reading, you’re life saver!!! i hope you all like this <3)

read on ao3

Scott McCall doesn’t have a soulmate.

They talk about it on television, in school, on the playground, in the supermarket. Scott hears their mom talk about it, and their classmates, and their teachers.

This is why they ask their mom late at night before they go to bed, at eleven years old. “How will I know who my soulmate is, mom?”

Their mother looked confused, but with her soft, familiar smile. They love her smile.

“Didn’t your teacher tell you, sweetheart?” she asks, and Scott has to concentrate, think back to every class and every word and every question. They bite their lip as they think, and their mom laughs in fondness, ruffles their hair. They push her hand away, even though it’s not that annoying, really.

“She said you get drawings on your body…” they begin, but frowns at themself, “But I don’t understand how. Will my soulmate’s name be in the drawings?”

Scott likes drawing, a lot. They don’t really understand how drawings would show them who their soulmate is, though, unless it’s their face.

Their mother chuckles again, but sits quiet for a minute. Scooby-Doo is still running on low volume on the TV, and the crickets have begun to chirp outside the window. And it’s windy, but Scott isn’t cold.

“They’re called tattoos,” she tells them, resting her head on top of their own as she hugs them, “I mean, it’s just something that happens. Your soulmate’s drawings, when they get them, you get them, too.”

Scott’s eyes widen, “Oh. Did they see what Stiles doodled on my hand in class today?”

Their mom plants a kiss on their hair before pulling away. Her eyes get all crinkled when she smiles so big, it’s very pretty. “I think so, yes.”

They chew their lip in some sort of contemplation, if they understood what that meant, yet. They can leave messages for their soulmate, then. They like that. But…

“When can I meet them?”

Scott’s mother sighs quietly, but doesn’t look angry or sad or disappointed, just tired. She turns off the TV and starts clearing up the coffee table while she replies, “Somehow you find them. Everyone finds theirs differently, different times. Their drawings tell a lot about them.”

They don’t like that answer that much. Ugh. They huff impatiently, “But I want to meet them! Now!”

And, of course, their mom is already picking them up, carrying them upstairs while chuckling quietly. The house seems bigger without their dad here. And more peaceful.

They like it much better like this. Hopefully it stays this way. Just Scott and their mom, they don’t need anyone else, they can’t even bring themself to care about where their dad might be or might be doing.

Okay, they need Stiles, though. His dad is nice, too.

“You’ll meet them, Scott,” their mother says while tucking them, “I promise you will, one day. But you have to be patient.”

They hate waiting. But their mom knows everything, she knows all the little beautiful things about the world, so Scott knows she’s right. Patience.

“Okay. Pinky promise?” they ask.

She hugs them again, for good measure. “Pinky promise.”

Scott has to be satisfied with the answer. But although their mother turns off the lights and leaves the door to their room just slightly ajar, they hide under their duvet with the sketchpad she gave them for their birthday last year.

Maybe this soulmate thing is like… a string. A string connecting them and whoever’s made for them, even though they’re miles away, at the other end of the world, even. They can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Like air.

They like that. An invisible string.

Scott draws two hands, connected by the string tied on their pinky fingers. They use the gold pen for the string.

Lately, the thought of their soulmate has moved to the back of Scott’s mind.

It rests there, because after months of worrying and thinking and crying and what they now recognize as gender dysphoria , Scott is about to tell their best friend that they’re nonbinary. They’re so fucking scared, they almost want to cry again.

They’ve already told their mom, which took them a month alone to decide on. Because what if she suddenly saw them differently? What if she didn’t love them anymore? What if she kicked them out?

It’s always been her and them, against the world. That couldn’t change.

And luckily, thank the stars and heavens above, it didn’t, and Scott’s never been so relieved in their life. They didn’t expect her to be close-minded or bigoted, they’ve always thought the highest of her, but the possibility, the fear still nagged there. They were so fucking glad to put it to rest, finally.

So here Scott is, in their bedroom on a late Wednesday afternoon, waiting for Stiles to finish his homework before he comes over to play video games, as they always do, twice a week, even though their parents eagerly want them to wait for the weekend.

Scott’s heart feels like it’ll jump out of their chest at any second.

They finally know who they are. They only assume the last puzzle piece of their whole self, of their soul to be completed by their soulmate, but the sense of peace they felt when they finally thought… this is who I am. This is who I’m meant to be .

What if Stiles doesn’t understand? No, what if he doesn’t accept them for who they are? What if his love is conditional? Fuck . Scott almost wants to scream.

Their heart is still clawing its way out of their chest when their best friend finally knocks on their window and lets himself in, a huge grin plastered on his face and carrying his own selection of games for them to compare with their own.

Stiles is always so happy. Well, not always, but he’s the rock Scott so desperately needs right now, like he’s been so many times before, and like they’ve been for him. They’ve drawn him many times before, and he always says he likes the drawings. And they let him doodle on their arm and hand when he’s anxious, because somehow they both find comfort in this.

They know the two of them aren’t soulmates, they think of each other as family rather than romantically, but they’re still meant for each other, they think. They hope. Stiles knows them better than anyone else, even their mother.

“You ready, Scotty?” he asks, chipper as ever, already turning on the playstation, and the nickname calms their ever painful heartbeat, just a little.

Here goes nothing.

“Yeah, uhm… Stiles?” they speak around the lump in their throat, “Can- can we talk first?”

Their best friend looks up at them from the floor, a slightly confused look on his face, but the smile intact. He returns to seat himself on the couch, not grabbing the remote. That makes Scott smile.

“Of course, Scotty. Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes. Uh, no. Shit, sorry-” they’re already stumbling over the words, fuck, but Stiles puts a hand on their shoulder, tentatively, but his precense calm and assuring.

“Don’t apologise!” his smile is crooked, and he crosses his legs before continuing, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, take your time!”

Scott nods. They take a deep breath, the seconds ticking by. Closes their eyes together just for a moment. Opens again.

“Stiles, I…” they’re trying, calming their heartbeat with breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth, like their mom taught them. You can do this. “Please don’t freak out. I’m still me, like… I don’t wanna lose you.”

Their best friend frowns. “You’re not gonna lose me, Scotty.”

Scott gulps, nods. They’re trying. Really trying. “I’m nonbinary.”

They keep their eyes squeezed shut when they say it. It’s out there now. They don’t want to see his face change, if his reaction is bad, but they have to. They have to look. A beat passes. And Scott opens their eyes to find their best friend looking at them, smiling so hard his dimples are visible and nose scrunches up.

Oh, my god. That’s good, right?

“That’s great!” Stiles almost shouts, practically jumping in his seat. He does realise his volume, though, particularly since Scott’s mom is sleeping before her night shift. He clears his throat, “Scotty, oh my god. Sorry, I got excited. Thank you for telling me.”

Scott could almost fucking cry, again. But it’s happy tears this time, the nerves vanishing ever so slowly.

“You’re not… upset?”

Their best friend almost looks offended at the question, “Why in the world would I be upset?”

Scott bites their lip. God, they love Stiles so much, “I don’t know, uhm. I was scared you wouldn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. Because I’m not a boy.”

The brunette next to them goes all soft and gooey in his eyes, Scott would know that look anywhere. He also looks like he wants to jump them with hugs, but holding himself back, “Scotty, we’re ride or die, remember? I love you. You’re my best friend and that won’t change. What kind of asshole would I be to leave you like that?”

Scott laughs, Stiles is urging to hug them they can tell, like an oversized puppy.

And they’re speaking around the newly formed tears now, “I love you, Stiles. Like, so much. Thank you.”

Their best friend is grinning like an idiot. “What pronouns do you want to go by? Oh, and should I call you something else- like, not Scott?”

“I still like Scott,” they tell him, not bothering to cover the crying, because whatever. They’ve cried in front of each other plenty, “I’d like they/them pronouns, though, I think.”

Stiles nods eagerly, “Got it!” Then, “Can I hug you now?”

Scott rolls their eyes. Of course. “Yeah, come on.”

Their best friend practically tackles them in the hug, but it’s so bloody welcome, and so warm. Thank God they’re already sitting down.

“I want to be a tattoo artist,” Scott tells their friends at lunch, career day still settled in their mind from weeks ago, and the arguments roaming in their head on how to convince their mom to let them go for their first tattoo next month. It’s for their birthday.

Feels natural when they’ve always been fascinated by art as much as them. The galleries their mother took them to, they’re endlessly grateful for that, honestly.

And art summer school, and art elective, one thing leads to another. And tattooing is just art with skin as a canvas, they can’t stop thinking about it. Little works of art on your body, to carry around with you every day. It feels so special and with so much meaning - or with no meaning, they’re just as fun.

Stiles already knows - of course he does - and he’s excited about it, still, while Allison smiles as sweetly as ever, Malia’s eyes widen and she’s already convincing Scott to make her first one, and Isaac… is smirking?

It’s shy, but it’s there, they’re sure of it.

He was transferred to their high school six months ago, and frankly fits perfectly into their group, Scott thinks, even though their best friend doesn’t exactly get along with him. They’re idiots, but oh well, their idiots.

Isaac was nervous at first, they could tell. But when Scott gave him a smile in class, he gave one back, tentative, hesitant, but it couldn’t be mistaken. And once they started talking to him, questioning the red haired boy about games and lacrosse and his schedule, he opened up, slowly and surely.

Even though Scott did much of the talking at first, Isaac didn’t seem to mind. They apologised, knowing how fast and excited they can be, much like Stiles, but he still accepted the offer of having lunch with the gang, and he’s witty, and smart, and a good listener. Well, Stiles disagrees, but you know. They bicker just for the hell of it, at this point.

The two girls missing from the table quickly join them and Kira’s eager to catch up, “What are we talking about?”

Scott likes Kira, a lot. Maybe… maybe she’s their soulmate. God, they don’t know.

Her smile is very pretty, she knows so much cool stuff about astrology and is like, easily the best player on the lacrosse team, by a mile. Jackson’s always on her ass because he’s a douche, and definitely power-hungry after being named the new captain, but Kira rolls her eyes at him and brushes him off like it’s nothing. Scott admires her.

The two of them can talk for hours about music and other shit that Stiles only rolls his eyes a little bit at, but even though he calls them nerds, he also joins them way too often and unashamedly.

And he’s just acting uninterested to seem cool in front of Lydia, usually.

But at the same time, Isaac’s smile is also very pretty, and his jokes are the best. He always laughs at Scott’s jokes, too, which they really like. He keeps whispering sarcastic comments in their ear during class and rolls his eyes when the teachers aren’t looking, which makes Scott laugh.

And he’s an expert at texting in secret, always sending them pictures he took over the weekend of graffiti tags around town and puppies on the train and bumblebees, all because those reminded him of them.

Isaac’s nose gets all scrunched up when he laughs and his eyes squeeze shut.

The boy also loves zombie movies, which is a huge plus in their book, and wears big floppy sweaters that are excellent for hugs. Isaac is already a really good hugger, he’s always… warm and soft and safe.

Maybe he’s their soulmate. Stiles would be so upset if that were true, ha.

Scott’s listened to their mother, though, they know patience is a virtue, and maybe neither of them are their soulmate. None of them have found their soulmate yet, anyway, so they shouldn’t stress, right now, they should just look forward to the future.

“Scott’s gonna give me my first tattoo!” Malia exclaims excitedly, Lydia only seeming mildly surprised, “Right, Scott?”

They laugh, they love the brunette’s undying loyalty and curiosity a lot, “I gotta practice first, but yeah, of course.”

“You’ll get us all tattoos, right?” Allison winks at them, “We can be your guinea pigs.”

Lydia chimes in, “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on Lydia!” Stiles gasps, “Don’t you trust my best friend?”

He’s so giving her heart eyes, right now. Scott’s used to it by now, and it’s adorable, only slightly annoying, given that his plan of asking her out has yet to be set in motion. They wonder if the redhead has noticed.

Lydia sends a crooked smile in their direction after flipping their best friend off, “I’ll trust them when they’re trained. No offense, babe.”

They shake their head, patting Stiles’ back. Love the defense of their honor, even when unneeded. “I feel the same way, Lyds.”

The support is unwavering and overwhelming with all of them, even Lydia. The most surprising and pleasant thing of the day, though, is when Isaac purses his lips as they walk to P.E., then smiles at Scott in a way they know is only meant for them, “You can practice on me, even though I’ll probably faint from the needle. Maybe I could get a turtle.”

Scott can’t hide their grin, “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When Scott gets their first tattoo, Stiles holds their hand - before he faints, that is. He recovered quickly, it was endearing, really. They felt fine however; maybe the excitement filled up too much of their being to be worried about the pain.

Thankfully their mother approved of the tattoo and what they wanted to do with their art. She’d always been supportive, but, you know… sometimes, they worry too much. About everything.

She liked the drawing they chose, too.

Two rings around their bicep, simple black lines, but it meant a lot to them, and far, far from the last. It’s like them and their mother, they think: constant orbit with each other. She’s always protected them. They always want to protect her. Stiles called them a big old sap for it, and he’s right.

Scott planned it on their birthday, making sure to have the whole gang out for the fair, and roller skates, and showing off their tattoo with buckets of pride.

And if their stomach soared a little whenever a certain tall red haired boy smiled at them, that’s for themself to deal with. They think their best friend might be getting suspicious, given the half fond, half intensely weird looks he’s given them lately, when the whole group’s gotten together, but never said anything.

God knows if they knew what they would do about it. Scott doesn’t understand it, but… Isaac looking at them just feels right. It’s probably a little dangerous crushing on one of your close friends. Especially when you don’t know if they’re your soulmate, or who they are at all.

But apparently the universe finds it appropriate to sort this maybe or maybe not issue for them, after the fall break, when Scott finds Isaac’s seat strangely empty, and suddenly, the teacher’s shocking them to their core when she lets the class know the red haired boy’s been pulled out of the school and his family’s relocating.

In Paris. What… what the hell?

Scott doesn’t understand it. They can’t.

Isaac hasn’t said anything about this, they don’t remember, neither to them alone or to the whole group. Even Stiles looks at them with wide eyes, and Allison’s frowning from the back row.

The whole week the group doesn’t quite… work. They try to process it. Fuck. It just feels weird, unreal, not real at all.

Why would the boy just leave like that, unannounced? They would’ve hoped he would say goodbye. Scott doesn’t find themself wishing for an explanation, they just wanted to say goodbye. And ask if they did something wrong. Anything.

But the gang tries, of course, the routine returns piece by piece, even though Stiles and Lydia still argue about their possible theories on why Isaac left.

Scott just feels so, so guilty, for absolutely no reason. He seemed different after their birthday, somehow, which they’re only just thinking about now. Maybe they’re making it up, to rationalize it, somehow. They’ve got no fucking idea.

He didn’t come to school for a few days after their birthday party, that is, but… he was sick, he said. Just a fever. It was fine, he said.

Scott should get out of their own head. And Stiles says he’s the overthinker of the two.

And while their little world seems to circulate, still, Scott just feels numb, until three weeks later. Until their mother drops down on the couch while they’re watching reruns of Jeopardy and suddenly Scott has tears trickling down their cheeks, without even realising it.

Their mom seems just as confused, and upset, as themself, but she wraps her arms around them without even asking, of course she does. She tries to protect them.

But there’s nothing to protect them from, really. Just sadness. And a broken heart, maybe, one that they’re not even sure how to mend.

God, they wish Isaac was here. Guess he’s not their soulmate, after all.

Kira’s the first one of the group to find their soulmate. Actually, Kira and Malia, because it turns out they’re meant for each other.

It makes sense immediately to Scott, knowing of the brunette’s crush on the other girl, one she’s made vocal to them and Stiles since sophomore year. Wide eyes, making excuses for Kira to help her with her homework, grabbing extra dessert for her. Scott’s been rooting for them ever since they realised.

It’s just before senior year; where Malia proudly shows off the rubber duck tattoo Scott gave her on her ankle, after much discussion of how it should look.

“Like a rubber duck,” she told them, “But you know, with legs. Like a real duck. But not real.”

Scott had furrowed their brows while trying to follow, “Like a cartoon?”

And since she nodded, absolutely ecstatic, they got to work. They were so lucky to find an internship, and a mentor, and their mother looked so proud, almost near the verge of tears. She’s so dramatic sometimes, they love her for that.

Malia was a bit squeamish at first, which Scott doesn’t blame her for in any way, obviously. The ankle is a brave place for the first one, they’ll admit, but their friend insisted relentlessly, and they had to give in.

She put on a brave face soon enough, and took Stiles’ hand as much as she refused and called him a dick. And it turned out cool as hell!

Scott concentrates, hard, as they practice, and they’re still getting used to skin as opposed to paper. Softer, and they have to reangle their hands from time to time, even though they’re still stuck on smaller pieces for now.

They’ve been chewing their lip so much in concentration that it started bleeding once, a reminder to work off that habit. Maybe they should get Stiles to call them out on it. Like, do an eagle scream, or something, as he does whenever he wants to get their attention already.

Speaking of their best friend, he’s gotten a little better with it already, not afraid to look at the process now.

“It’s fascinating, I’ll admit,” he tells them on yet another one of their traditional game nights, “But way, way too painful, Scotty. How do you put yourself through several of them?”

Their own first was on the arm, of course, which isn’t too bad, and they kept the second one on their arm as well; Kermit the Frog. It’s funny. They like the Muppets. Sue them. Stiles loved it, too, so they’ve already got approval. Lydia definitely loves it, too, despite her initial skepticism.

But as Malia lifts her foot to show everyone on the bleachers, tradition as they wait for Kira to get off lacrosse practice, the very same girl nearly chokes on her water, prompting concerned looks from everyone, until Kira sits down and reveals her own ankle. The duck.

Needless to say, Malia becomes a blushing mess.

Kira, however, doesn’t look surprised at all. “I knew it was you!”

“Y-you did?” the girl stammers out, her foot still hanging in the air, probably out of sheer shock.

The dark haired girl giggles, wiping the sweat off of her forehead, before crossing her legs. She looks near bliss, Scott thinks. They’ve never seen an expression like that before. It makes them crave meeting their own even more.

The group stays in a strange, light, peaceful sort of silence until the coach calls Kira back, Malia’s face practically looking like a tomato at that point. Stiles is laughing hysterically at her, leaning on Scott’s shoulder, and she punches him several times until he hides behind them, almost using them as a shield. Almost, because Malia would never hit Scott, obviously, that’s reserved for the boy cowering behind them.

Their friends are such idiots.

The brunette freezes on the spot when her soulmate gets up, planting a kiss on her forehead before running off, saluting the group.

“We’ll meet at the ice cream stand!” she yells. Scott salutes back. Malia waves awkwardly.

“You okay, Mal?” they gotta ask, to reassure themself she hasn’t mentally shut off.

“Oh my god,” she squeaks, “Oh, yeah. Yeah!”

Stiles laughs even louder than before. Allison joins him. Malia may chase them both across the field, until the coach has to break them up, and now, the girl easily jumps into her soulmate’s embrace for protection.

Lydia shakes her head at it all. All in all an outstanding day for them, Scott thinks.

Straight out of graduation, tearful goodbyes to their friends even though they’ll see each other the week after, Scott’s got so far they’re taking clients. Their boss is proud of their progress, and they were a nervous wreck before the evaluation, but God, they feel a little proud of themself, too.

Of course, this means their friends are eager for them to practice on them and save money.

Kira’s the first in line; she wants the solar system, on a line down her spine. Scott isn’t surprised when she eagerly tells them about the planet symbolism, and she intensely stares at them drawing up the design, Malia sharing the excitement.

It’s her second, actually, the first being the one she got last year, in honor of her mom. She also seemed profusely apologetic for not going to Scott for her first, which they found adorable.

And yeah, they have to break it up in two sessions with a large piece like this, luckily the both of them are staying in town.

When Kira sees the finished result, she almost cried, they swear. “The colors are amazing, oh my God,” she tells them, already spinning around excitedly and hugging them tightly, “Thank you babeeeee. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Scott always finds themself giggling along with the girls, it’s only natural, “Don’t mention it.”

The two of them gasp, as shocked as in a Greek tragedy. “Keep mentioning it, dummy.” she tells them, and Malia adds, “You gotta book me for next week. I want a wolf!”

Allison’s the farthest away from the group, three states over; of course, they keep the promise of monthly reunions, more than once a month, even, which makes Scott feel impossibly warm every time. They still kind of wish Isaac was there. Damn.

It’s in April when Allison brings them a drawing she wants tattooed on her forearm. A portrait of a woman, with a bow and arrow, a stag at her side, and the moon looming over them both. It’s gorgeous.

“Obviously you’re a better artist than me, but this is my general idea,” she says sheepishly, as they hand her her bubble tea, “It’s Artemis.”

Greek goddess of animals and nature, that childhood obsession with mythology wasn’t for nothing. Allison’s been doing archery since she was thirteen, so it practically screams her. Scott gets seriously nervous about it, to be honest, like anxiously sweating kind of nervous, but luckily, she loves it. Thank God. They’re always scared to fuck up, especially on their friends.

But it’s way, way easier now, like they could do it asleep.

And that’s sort of put to the test, actually, because Stiles and themself decide to get drunk off their asses one Friday night, it’s been ages. And fuck it, they’re allowed to have fun. And enjoy cheap, horribly tasting beer at that.

Once they get home to Scott’s flat (taking the subway of course, even though their best friend had to be dragged away from his truck, they really dodged a bullet there, Jesus), Stiles gets to that point of his drunkenness where he starts getting philosophical and a little sad.

“What if I never meet them, Scotty,” he whines, in reference to his soulmate, that is. Scott themself gets extremely jumpy and bubbly under the influence, without failure, but they still know that frustration all too well.

“You will, honey,” they tell him.

“You promise?!”

“Prooooomise.”

They both contemplate his soulmate’s tattoos for a while. A flock of birds on his ribcage, a Sylvia Plath quote by his shoulder, a tree with its roots circling his wrist.

Neither of them has anyone they know in mind, but anything is possible! Scott still hasn’t spotted any of their soulmate’s tattoos. They’ve been thinking about it for some time now, and well. It’s disappointing, but they have plenty of time. They’ll get plenty more tattoos themself to their already growing sleeve, so they try not to worry about it too much.

Their best friend suggests they play Mario Kart, which can only end in disaster, but then, “You should tattoo my ass, Scotty.”

Scott blinks twice, the statement shocking their drunk brain just a bit, “What?

“My ass!” he exclaims, now happier than ever, yearning for his soulmate forgotten in a split second, “Babe, pleaseee. Wait. Wait, wait, draw Harrison Ford.”

They can’t even process the request before their best friend pulls a headshot of said actor up, and starts clearing the sofa, “Indiana Jones is his best role, like… like… yeah.”

Scott laughs long and hard, this is insane. Of course, their judgement is clouded by the alcohol, right now, so what the fuck, why not.

This is why Stiles ends up lying on his stomach with his jeans halfway down, Scott sitting by his feet, the light of the iPhone glaring both their eyes at 4am.

“Ow!” he yells, like, thirty times, each time they have to laugh and then shush him, because they really can’t deal with noise complaints as sleep deprived as they are right now.

“Stop moving!” they tell him.

“But I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Stiles drags out the two-letter word to the greatest extent, “Nooooo.”

“Yes,” they laugh again, “I believe in you.”

“Love you, Scotty,” their best friend proclaims, still yelling a bit, but finally lying relatively still.

Scott rolls their eyes, “Love you too, idiot. Won’t be long now.”

“Make sure you capture his eyes right, babe! It’s extremely important!”

“I know, I know.”

To Scott’s great surprise, the tattoo turns out incredibly detailed.

In fact, it might be some of their best work yet. They’re not quite sure if they should be proud that they can work while intoxicated, or ashamed that their best work is, well… when they’re not sober.

Stiles laughs for almost two hours straight, then gushes over it.

“I’m sorry, man,” they had to say, “It was stupid.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” he tells them from where he’s admiring his own ass in the mirror, “This is incredible. Holy fuck. You captured his DILF-yness perfectly.”

Scott rubs their eyes, they have slept till 2pm, and the sunlight still isn’t doing wonders for them, “His what?”

Their best friend returns to their bed and burrows his face in the pillow. “He’s a DILF! Dad I’d like to fuck!”

That’s definitely an explanation that wakes Scott right up. They’ve never heard of that acronym, but fair enough. They’re also rather speechless, which the boy next to them senses, when Stiles looks up and shakes his head, “Scotty, Scotty. Aren’t you lucky you have such an insightful best friend as myself?”

The morning ends in a pillow fight, naturally.

It’s no more than a day after their night out that Scott finally, finally convinces Stiles to call Lydia and ask her on a date.

He’s sworn to his ten-year plan for ages now, with little to no action on his part, so this is major progress. Their best friend spills all his worries to them, but honestly? Scott isn’t all that worried.

They can’t say for sure what the outcome will be, but judging by Stiles’ retellings of the late night text conversations and smiles the red haired girl shoots in the boy’s direction when she probably didn’t realise people were looking, Scott’s got some sort of feeling that their friend might feel the same.

Okay, they haven’t talked to Lydia about it, admittedly. They swore secrecy to their best friend, and they intend to keep that promise.

But Scott recognizes that gleam in her eyes. It’s much like Malia’s looking at her soulmate, they think. Or maybe they’re completely in the wrong. They probably shouldn’t doubt it, or Stiles will only doubt himself more.

“She’s way out of my league, Scotty!” he exclaims for the fifth time on their FaceTime, as he’s listed pros and cons to the proposition.

They smile at the boy on their phone screen, trying to look as assuring as possible, “Lydia’s awesome, I know. But you shouldn’t put yourself down as much as you do, you know that, right?”

Stiles huffs, “I know.”

“You do?”

“I do!” he almost whines.

Scott nods, “Alright. Babe, the worst thing that could happen is that she says no. You won’t know unless you try.”

“But what if it ruins everything?” their best friend worries again, “Maybe she won’t… want to be friends, then. I don’t wanna upset her-”

“Stiles,” they feel the need to interrupt, readjusting themself on the couch, “She likes you, I know it, even if it’s just as friends. If she says no, then you’ll know and you can get over her. I don’t think she’d cut you off completely. She cares about you.”

Stiles sighs, deeply and dramatically, but the look on his face tells Scott that he knows they’re right.

“If you say so.”

And not even an hour later, their best friend calls them up again, flimsy camera and nearly screaming, because Lydia Martin said yes. Stiles looked like he was near tears.

Later that night, Lydia texted them, asking if he would find a picnic in the park too boring for a first date - clearly, she was nervous, and Scott’s never seen, or heard her nervous before. They think the two of them will be just fine.

Granted, neither of them know who their soulmates are, but when they’ve liked each other for as long as they have, to hell with it, right?

Scott spends the night and next morning thinking about it. Less about their friends, who already arranged the date today, as much as they’re excited for them. They just… now there’s two couples in their friend group. They’re so happy for their friends, they really are, but this soulmate thing is looking a bit frustrating, sometimes.

When Allison came out to the group as aromantic and asexual in the beginning of junior year (and after Scott hugged their friend so she nearly feel over on the grass, the nerves disappearing from her laugh much the same way that they had felt when they came out to Stiles, and the rest of the group) Malia blurted out a question, “Do you have any soulmate tattoos?”

“Mal!” Lydia gave her a pointed look, but the dark haired girl chuckled.

“It’s fine,” she told her best friend, and all of them, “I don’t. Either the universe knows what’s up and hasn’t given me one, or whoever it is just doesn’t have tattoos. Fucked if I know how it all works.”

Scott hates the fact that it created a nagging little thought in the back of their mind. It’s still tiny, but still living there, showing its ugly head late at night when their anxiety gets at them.

Maybe they don’t have a soulmate at all.

Shit.

Fuck.

What if?

They don’t have much time to worry about it that evening, though, when some stubborn knocks sound on their door, and they open it up to reveal Lydia and Stiles. They’re holding hands, Scott can’t help but grin.

Stiles has much the same expression on his face. Lydia looks a bit furious.

“Did you tattoo Harrison Ford on his ass?” she asks, voice impatient.

Their eyes widen, and look back and forth between them, but their best friend just looks lovestruck and a little confused.

“You showed her?” they ask, and the redhead sighs, “No. I’m asking because I have a picture of Harrison Ford on my ass.”

The shock takes the both of them aback.

Lydia’s upset about the tattoo, not them being soulmates, thank God, because Scott was rooting for them a lot. She rolls her eyes hard as they explain their drunken mishap, crossing her arms, but they’d know the fond smile anywhere. She doesn’t hide it anymore.

“Sorry,” Stiles says over and over.

Needless to say, the boy freezes on the spot when Lydia rises and shuts him up with a kiss, “You’re an idiot, you know.”

He nods eagerly, “I know.”

“Yet I love you,” she states, and Stiles looks like he’s about to faint.

“You-you do?!”

Lydia looks content, and takes his hand again. She also ruffles Scott’s hair with her other hand, commending them for bringing them together, evidently, “Obviously.”

It’s the first day of December, a little after midnight, that Scott comes to a conclusion.

They’ve been lying awake in bed for two hours now, tossing and turning, and since they can’t sleep their brain starts going into overdrive.

The group is gonna have a get together before they return home to their mom. Stiles constantly gushes about Lydia, of course. Kira called them on Malia’s birthday and confessed that she’s thinking about proposing to her girlfriend on New Year’s Eve.

They… are happy for them. So very much. They’re not lying in any way.

But why the fuck do they feel so lonely?

They’ve been paying more attention to their skin, desperately keeping their eyes out for tattoos that aren’t their own. Maybe they could’ve missed if it blended into their now fully closed sleeve. Or… or maybe it’s in a place they didn’t think of before.

But days have been going on and on, and Scott has been counting every single one of their pieces, and every single one they recognize.

The lavenders and forget-me-nots, the Millennium Falcon, the pac-man, their mother’s favorite song, the idiot #2 tramp stamp that matches Stiles’ idiot #1 .

Nothing unfamiliar, nothing’s out of place.

This is why the thing that’s been worrying them sick ever since that day their tall, red haired friend had mysteriously dropped out, and almost vanished into thin air, finally sneaks out of its hiding place and hits them with full force.

It must be the only liable explanation.

Scott probably won’t get any sleep tonight. Scott’s also pretty sure they don’t have a soulmate.

They’ve been living with the fact that they don’t have a soulmate for, hm, well - almost two years now. And it’s fine, really. They’re slowly getting used to it, anyway.

Scott told their mother after Christmas when they realised, and she almost worries out of her skin, but they were a bit too embarrassed to cry in front of her then. Hopeless romantic and all.

Stiles also reacted to the conclusion by cuddling them for a whole weekend, letting them win every video game they played and buying them so many snacks it’s shocking neither of them passed out from that heavy of an amount of sugar.

All their friends shared their frustration, and sadness, in their own way, and so they never felt alone about it. Always and endlessly supported. They love them so much.

But yeah, they just had to carry on with life. What else is there to do?

And although they still think about it in both good and bad moments, they’ve distanced themself just a little bit from it all, worrying just an inch less, working hard and spending time with their best friend and gang whenever possible.

It’s getting easier, more peaceful.

Scott’s set up an Instagram dedicated to their portfolio, and clearly their friends got the word spread back to Beacon Hills, and around it. And lots of other places. Kira and Malia became their unofficial promoters last summer, when the couple went on a road trip around Europe, to celebrate the engagement.

The wedding is this summer, also, which Scott cannot possibly contain their excitement about. They love those girls.

Their best friend is joint best man, of course, Allison joint maid of honor, and the reception playlist is already piled upon with Dolly Parton and Megan Thee Stallion. They love their friends’ music taste, for real.

So all in all, they’re doing pretty great. Well, February is filled with a bit too much of the Valentine’s Day ads and hype for their taste, but they’ll come to not mind it eventually. Hopefully.

And right now, Scott’s headed for the tattoo parlor (they got a permanent position, holy fuck) to draw up some designs and check out the bookings for next week. It’s a quiet afternoon, after the weekly morning call with their mother, and the group chat is ever so chaotic as always.

They’ve already got, like, sixty missed messages since they left the flat, Jesus.

And so they’re stood on the train station, train arriving in five minutes, checks their phone and then-

Then. Holy fuck.

Is this real life?

Are they imagining things?

Or is it… is it him?

On the opposite side of the tracks, Scott spots a tall figure, with curly red hair and dressed in a green turtleneck and black jeans. They must be confusing them.

Except the person turns around, and, oh my God.

It’s Isaac. It’s Isaac Lahey.

And Scott doesn’t know what to fucking do, except their jaw drops like an idiot, staring until the boy-uh, man on the other side widens his blue eyes, looking directly into their own brown. This is real.

About twenty agonizing seconds pass by as they both process what’s happening before the redhead waves, a small, hesitant one. So naturally, Scott waves back.

That’s that. Then Isaac points in the direction of the exits. They nod immediately.

He leaves. They leave. Oh God, oh god, oh god.

When Scott ascends the stairs out onto the bustling streets, it seems like they’ve been waiting forever. Their brain is such a drama queen.

And there the red headed man stands- he’s tall, still, half a head taller than them. When he spots them going in his direction, a smile forms on his lips, and it’s soft and shy and all too familiar.

This could easily have Scott in tears, but they hold it in.

When they’re finally face to face with their old friend, they can’t help returning the smile. Isaac keeps moving his gaze from their eyes to the ground, back and ground, like he’s scared to look at them too long. Scott swallows around the lump in their throat, unsure of what to do.

They never, ever, in a million years expected this to happen. They never thought they would see him again. Yet, here he is.

Scott clears their throat in an attempt to sound cool and collected, although they fail horrendously, “Hey.”

“Hi,” the taller man answers.

Well, that’s a start, right?

Yet again they’re processing, thinking, they can almost see the cogs in Isaac’s brain turning, until their mouth decides to speak before their brain can decide on the words, “Can I buy you a coffee?”

Thank their lucky stars, Isaac nods instantly.

And it’s when they’ve gone to the nearest café, Scott nursing a café latte while Isaac settles with his iced coffee, that they start talking. And talking. And talking.

The conversation flows immediately, and so easily, almost like they were never apart.

It’s surprising, yet safe. Scott has to ask what they could only wonder about all these years.

“Why did you… why did you leave?” they get out, before they can lose their courage. And when their old friend’s mouth twists into a frown, and his eyes fill with something like a pained memory instead of nostalgia, they instantly regret the question.

Isaac speaks before they can apologise, though, “I’m sorry.”

“I was about to say the same, I didn’t mean to-”

“Scott, no,” he interrupts, with a small sigh, “I want to tell you. It’s, uhm… maybe it’s easier if I show you.”

They find themself furrowing their brows in confusion, “Show me?”

The man nods and takes a sip from his coffee before he rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie. And then… there’s a Kermit, there, on his wrist. The lavender branches travelling up his arm, right up to the two black bands, encircling his bicep.

Scott feels like the world is moving in slow-motion. It’s just Isaac, in front of them. And he’s got all their tattoos.

They realise they’ve been quiet when the man in front of him starts looking worried, and so they say the first thing they can think of, “You’re my soulmate?”

He nods again.

Scott has a soulmate. They’ve got a soulmate and… he’s right in front of them.

The boy they’ve been harboring feelings for since they first became friends. The tall, clumsy stranger who’s overly critical of zombie lore and talked in his sleep whenever he stayed over at their house, and… the boy who hugged them in the queue to the go-karts, just because he could.

Holy shit.

Scott doesn’t even realise the tears falling from their eyes before Isaac’s confusion intensifies, and they try to wipe at their cheek, a little embarrassed. But fuck that. “Sorry. Oh my God. Isaac, I thought- I thought I didn’t have one. Shit, I was terrified. I never got any tattoos… that weren’t my own.”

And so, the redhead’s smile starts getting a little teary as well. He chuckles, his voice breaks, but he looks so happy. They’ve missed that smile beyond belief.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “Still not good with needles.”

They smile at each other in the silence for a moment. Scott doesn’t want to keep questioning if Isaac doesn’t want to tell them, so they just… look at him for a moment. He still is just as pretty as last time they saw him, but he’s grown his hair a bit longer, his arms more defined, he’s wearing tighter jeans than he used to.

The bustle of the other residents and the baristas busy behind the counter goes on for a beat, before Isaac speaks again, “I didn’t leave by choice. I-I would’ve said goodbye. If it was my decision.” Scott nods. They know.

“It’s my dad,” the redhead continues, “Uhm… ever since my mom died, he… became violent. He beat me. And when he didn’t, he, uh, locked me in the basement. Those were my sick days.”

The man in front of him winces, wipes at his eye in defiance and Scott does, too.

Fuck. Fuck . And they never fucking knew.

“Isaac… I’m so, so sorry. Fuck,” they feel they still have tears threatening their way, and they don’t know how to stop them, struggling with their words. “I should’ve been there for you, I should-”

“Don’t,” he tells them, “You didn’t know, Scott. None of you knew.”

“But I should’ve known-”

“It’s not your fault. Please believe me when I say that.”

They nod again. Isaac still has that timid smile on his face, as teary as it is, as their smile probably is as well. The thought of their friend being abused, and… going through it alone , not being able to reach out for help, that no one fucking stepped in, it pains Scott in an unspeakable way, right now.

The redhead swallows before speaking again, “After your birthday, after your tattoo, well, I got it as well. And it didn’t take long for him to piece together that it was you. He monitored my phone. And he was a fucking bigot, so his reaction wasn’t exactly positive.”

Scott feels the urge to hold Isaac’s hand, and in fact, before their brain can stop it their hand already touches his on the table.

When they realise, they take it back, “Sorry, I didn’t-”, but Isaac grabs their hand back again, his lying on top of their own. He sniffles, wipes at his eyes again, but the warmth radiating from him is immediate.

“So he forced me to France, cut me off from everyone, and we stayed there, and I cried myself to sleep every night,” he tells, his frown deepening, “Until Camden was discharged.”

His older brother, Scott remembers. He signed up for the army.

“He lived with us for three days before my dad threw a glass at me over the dinner table, right in front of him. My brother knocked him out on the spot. We got the hell out of there.”

Isaac smiles again, breathing a little easier. Scott feels the same.

“I’m glad,” they say and squeezes his hand. Their heart flutters when their friend squeezes it back.

“So…” Isaac starts again, a sigh escaping his lips, “Now I’m here. That was two years ago, and, uh, yeah. We roamed around for a while, too scared he’d try to find us. Camden got us a place out of town, though, it’s too… loud in here sometimes.”

He runs his free hand through his curls and takes another sip of the coffee. Scott’s practically forgotten about their drink by now, it must be cold.

“And a therapist,” the redhead says, “I got a therapist. I need one.”

His smile grows, little by little. It’s still the shy one, just like Scott remembers, screwed up by tears and the rain. He looks happy in their company. They hope so, at least. They hope he’ll be okay, that he gets to be happier. They want him to be happy.

“I’m so happy you’re out of there, I…” their voice breaks halfway, and they both chuckle at it, “I worried myself sick about where you were. I just want you to be okay.”

Isaac bites his lip in the smile, “I will be.”

“Good.” A thought hits Scott, though, “Your dad, he doesn’t know you’re back, right? If that fucker finds you-” “He’s dead.”

“Oh.”

Isaac nods, “Neighbours in Paris called my brother about four months ago. It feels morbid to say, but honestly… Camden bought champagne.”

“I would’ve done the same,” Scott says, with zero hesitation. The redhead’s peacefulness has an effect on them, like a warm embrace. However, when a customer in the queue yells at the barista, Isaac flinches, and they’re just about ready to take him by the hand and get out.

They’re still wondering about their friend’s feelings towards them, because… they’re soulmates. But people don’t always stay together. People don’t always get together.

Scott knows they’re just as much in love with Isaac as they were back then. It’s come back in full force, and the longer they look at the man, it just makes them want to wake up to the sight of him, every single morning. Listen to him rant about zombies for two hours straight and eat McDonalds at 3am and kiss in front of Stiles until he tells them to get a room.

Their best friend probably already knows about their feelings towards the red haired man. They never told him, but he’s scarily knowledgeable sometimes.

“Isaac,” they start, trying to figure out how to ask, Isaac still grazing their hand with his thumb, “About the tattoos. I’m in love with you. I hope that’s not too blunt, but… I’ve liked you since we met, I think. If you don’t feel the same, I understand-”

“I love you,” he states, immediately, and surely. He squeezes their hand again as both their smiles almost turn to grins, “Sorry. I could yell it at the top of my lungs, if you want. Soulmate.”

This might just be the best day of their fucking life.

“Want to get out of here, soulmate?”

In the little parlour at the corner, the gang’s all crowded up, even though the shop’s supposed to be closed. They closed two hours ago.

Yet, Scott’s friends have formed a small circle around the chair, where their soulmate’s taken his shirt off to allow them to tattoo his collarbone. Masterpiece , the piece says, but it’s mirrored, so he’ll be able to read whenever he looks in the mirror.

Isaac’s facetiming his brother, too, who’s already given Scott the big brother talk; secretly, he loves them, the redhead told them so.

“You ready?” they ask him, planting a kiss on their soulmate’s hand, and he nods.

“Ready.”

“Tell me if you need a break, okay?”

“I will, baby,” he says with a chuckle, but Scott needs to be sure.

“Seriously, whenever-”

“I know,” Isaac laughs, and kisses their cheek, which never fails to make them blush, despite the many, many kisses they’ve had until now. In all places. And more than kisses. Their soulmate is the most incredible person they know (sorry, Stiles), and they just want to keep learning, discovering everything about him.

He still talks in his sleep. He found a much better therapist than the first one, and he has fewer nightmares now. Sometimes he wants to talk about them, sometimes he just wants Scott to hold him. He likes to be the big spoon. He hates the smell of coffee and eats excessive amounts of bacon. He likes to wake Scott by tracing their tattoos with his hands in the morning, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll steal the comforter and jump in the bed. He’s still such a nerd.

Every moment with him is unbelievably peaceful.

Their soulmate takes a deep breath, nods and so Scott gets started on the tattoo.

“Want me to hold your hand?” Stiles asks with a laugh, but they’re pretty sure the offer is genuine. Those two have been taking a liking to each other, after all, no matter how much they deny it.

“Absolutely not,” Isaac fires back, and the brunette gasps, making their soulmate smirk, “Lydia can hold it.”

She does, no matter how grumpy her soulmate looks. Malia’s nearly on the floor laughing.

This is safe. This is home. They’re all soulmates in a way, meant to be tied together, no matter where in the world they might be. And they’re so bloody happy to have him, and them, in their life.

Scott McCall has a soulmate.

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demxters · 4 years

Text

Get to Know Me Tag

thx for the tag love! @harrysbbby

name? elle

age?

from? california

current obsession? outer banks baby... but i’ve also fallen back into my teen wolf obsession just because i’ve been rewatching it 👀

favorite food to eat when you’re happy? ITALIAN FOOD my absolute fave

favorite food to eat when you’re sad? anything salty really... potato chips, fries, those sorts of things

what’s your favorite memory? i have many but probably when i went to hawaii with my cousin and learned how to surf. i was terrible at it and i kept wiping out... my cousin on the other hand caught every wave he rode. but i still had loads of fun

Post a pic of when you are happy...

(i’m v shy so imma post this one pic then probably delete it some time tomorrow lol)

what emoji speaks most to you? ☺️

Favorite episode of OBX? Ep. 6 because that’s the last episode we see all of our babies happy and working together before it all goes to shit.

Why did you start writing (or doing whatever you specialize here on Tumblr)? I read a lot of fanfiction, specifically hunger games and maze runner back in middle school on wattpad (lol what a time) and i don’t really remember when i got into reading on tumblr but i did and loved the community on here way more. I started writing on here because i felt very inspired and comfortable with how supportive and welcoming the people on here can be!

Saver or Spender? Spender. Whoops.

First Concert? Maroon 5

How many concerts have you been to? If I counted correctly, 6. (the most recent being Panic! At the Disco)

What’s the best book you’ve ever read? Eleanor and Park, that book was so beautifully written and ripped my heart in two, ugh it was so good.

Who’s you OBX OTP? MAYWARD (jj/pope)

What’s your ambition? I wanna be a screenwriter, so to get into a good film school. Or to write a screenplay and have it be produced and played at a film festival.

Post a pic/video that shows your personality. (again probably gonna delete this tomorrow)

Place or thing on your bucket list? Go to Iceland and see the Northern Lights!

School or street smart? both? idk lol.

Which character do you relate to most? PIGLET FROM WINNIE THE POOH IS WHAT SOME OF MY FRIENDS HAVE COMPARED ME TO LMAO and honestly i kinda see it

What’s something exciting you’ve done in the past week? Baked some almond tarts 🤤

Tag Someone Who’s Nice. @outrbanks

Tag Someone Who’s Funny. @midnightmagicmusings

Tag Someone Who Supports Your Work. @spideycapsenses

Tag Someone You Support. @ptersparkers @kiarascarreras @anonymous0writer @softstarkey And many more! These were just the ones I could think of off the top of my head rn. but i do try to support as many of the writers i come across!

And finally, how long have you been on Tumblr for? I wanna say 2017??? but tbh i don’t remember exactly when lol.

This was so fun I’m glad I got to do it 😊

#elle’s thoughts and things #tags #about me

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lambourngb · 5 years

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Day 2 : Relationship - Malex of course

Day 2: September 2, 2019 : Relationship: Family, friendship, romantic… Share something you love that focused on a relationship within the show (canon or not)!

I came into this fandom honestly, and late, for the queer representation on a CW show. A hot canonically gay character? Pining and miscommunication? Secrets and lies? Sign me up. I thought I was prepared but alas, I was wrong. I did not intend to have my brain hijinxed for months now in hyperfixation because of Alex and Michael. I did not realize that months later I would be taking probably throwaway lines from the show and building vast headcanons with them. I really had no idea I would feel the urge to write again, something that has illuded me for so many years I figured it was gone for good.

I used to be bored watching canon pairings play out on screen- it’s why I got into slash (Xfiles first, then Trek, Stargate Atlantis, Teen Wolf, etc), and even later on I enjoy the non-canon het pairing (Veronica Mars before LoVe happened, now the 100 with Bellamy/Clarke) - because if it is on screen, then what need do I have for fic? Then these two assholes came into my life, on screen, and proceeded to fuck it up and themselves over. So the grounds are fertile for fanfic to say the least.

So here are 3 AUs and a canon rec of interesting, compelling, original takes on Malex.

Falling in Love Is So Bittersweet by neapeaikea @neapeaikea https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027839 Michael takes that scholarship at UNM, and on move-in day meets Alex again for the first time since the night in the shed when they didn't kiss. [I love it when someone takes a left turn from canon. Here we have Michael reconnecting at university with Alex, saved from the trauma of their first time in the shed, but that doesn’t make thinks very rosy either. They are both keeping secrets, Michael’s more focused on their alien roots, and Alex is just trying to stay safe from his father. This captures all of the fun of college- Alex has that disappearing roommate that seemed to be on every floor when I was in school, and Michael’s roommate is a cool OC trying to make his own identity in school. This has everything- sweet pining, the joy that comes from learning new things, the freedom to be yourself- ugh it just breaks my heart that Michael didn’t make it college in canon. ]

Satellite Call by erisgregory @erisgregory https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794380/chapters/44592784 WIP Alex is home from the air force but finds he is as lonely as ever. He engages an escort one night under a pseudonym and when the escort arrives it's his high school love, Michael Guerin. [So I am an easy bitch who loves a good hooker story in a fandom. This is canon adjacent, taking place just prior to the reunion and dovetailing through episode 5, where it leaves off. Even though it’s unfinished, this story hits so many good kinks of Michael pining, of Alex being touch-starved, of the two of them miscommunicating, and of course the sex is very hot. Alex being home in Roswell, after losing a leg, really wants to feel again, but he doesn’t trust himself in a hook up culture, he thinks a paid transaction would be easier all around, at least until he realizes he has paid for Michael. It’s just the right mix of hot and angsty- and gives new life to the scene where Alex sees Michael take money from another guy.]

Commit to memory this path of fire (a tale of symphony and rhyme by Lire Casander @lire-casander https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474963 - Michael and Alex through the years with music as their shared language. [Here is the canon compliant rec, and it’s a good one. This fic is meant to be read aloud I think, because the language is very lush and emotive, and no surprise - lyrical. It feels just what it is supposed to feel like (I’m in awe at this feat) -it’s about music and love. 22,000 words that really make up a symphony in my mind of Michael, how he is formed as a person, how he loves Alex, and how music is not just the language they communicate best in, but how it ties him to the earth. The relationship of music and math is not just theoretical in this story, it’s visceral. This goes post finale and the payoff of their separation and coming together is so good and satisfying. A rainy day, your favorite album, a couple of tea and this fic, it’s all I need to have to feel comforted. ]

Something dumb to do by christchex @michaels-blackhat https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203030/chapters/43061009 Michael and Alex actually communicate and how that impacts their relationship through the years. WIP [This fandom loves a good secret marriage fic, and I applaud this whole heartedly. This one is my favorite, it has everything you want with Michael’s devotion to Alex, despite space. It gives Alex a brother who doesn’t suck (thank you!!!) It has an air of reality in that Alex wouldn’t spend 10 years in Iraq, he was clearly posted all over the country. It has the beauty of their relationship secret slowly getting spread to family and friends, and of course, the lingering pain of the alien secret. Alex still isn’t sure why Michael wants to stick by him during his service, but he’s smart enough not to question it too much. If you need an antidote to angst and want to revel in a romance, this is the story for you.]

#rnmcreate19 #rnmcreate #malex fic rec #roswell new mexico #otp: hope is a dangerous thing #michael guerin #alex manes

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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First, I hope you’re enjoying your game. One of my friends posted about how she’d just gotten her copy of it, and her husband’s response was basically “so, I’ll just bring you food occasionally and see you in a few days?" Also, I hope you’re feeling better. And man you are KILLING ME with these previews. Oh god, Peter, what are you planning now? How bad is this gonna hurt and for how long? (Don’t answer that, I’m afraid to know. XD )

I think all those Hogwarts Houses are excellent choices. I always think it’s fun to see how people sort various characters, because I rarely have any that I feel are firmly one House (maybe it’s because I’m a proud HuffleClaw, myself, doomed to waffle between Houses every time I take a quiz or read an analysis on the subject.) Side not - can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell? Would any of them have played Quidditch? (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position. Undecided on the other two.)

Poor Peter, having to behave himself. Although debatably as long as he kept the fangs put away it wouldn’t necessarily be a risk, though I can see him being worried anyway. That’s why he needs to find someone to spin his fur into yarn he can then make them scarves/gloves/sweaters/etc with. And why he’s so into the clothes sharing. Anything to get his scent on them as thoroughly as possible.

And I am so here for PTA Dad Peter. Helping out at school functions so he can keep an eye on the younger kids. Building new, supportive relationships with his older kids, helping them with college applications and essays, making up lists of stuff they’ll need for dorm rooms, finding apartments if any are going to the same or nearby schools and can share, making sure they all have pictures and mementos to help combat homesickness. And now I’m thinking about the memory quilt again. Goddammit I don’t want to make myself cry. Again. "Imagine Peter hearing their heartbeats for the first time." Oh nevermind, I see you’ll do it for me. Ugh, my feels. Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness. Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep. (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent? How do they react? How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

And you know that whichever one wasn’t the one pregnant at the time would be super protective at the time, then turn around and insist they were fine and that the others were worrying unnecessarily when they were the one pregnant. (Also, glad your brother was okay!) I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing. I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris. It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet… I’m also just going to assume that they have at least a king size bed to accommodate that many people, even if many of them are tiny people, and none of them mind piling. That’s still a lot of bodies cramming into one bed. (That much room would also come in very handy for…other reasons, which is why I feel certain Peter would insist upon it.)

Also, omg, I was not expecting to be attacked by those pictures like that. Tag your porn, dude XD . But really, can you imagine the poor, unsuspecting college friends their kids bring home for visits getting a triple barrel of that with no warning? Like they’ve just seen the goofy, weird pics that they have on their phone/on their walls. They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person. But then, is anyone, really?

Loving all the names. I actually know a guy named John who has a son named Jackson, so that one was particularly amusing to me. I also noticed that none of the kids have been named after anyone in Noah’s family, at least so far. And don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting to have those spoiled yet, though I’m happy to know you liked some of my suggestions :D . Now if I could just remember which all ones I went with… Didn’t really think to put it in anywhere, but for some reason I’ve always liked Alexander as a middle name for Peter, though I remain undecided on the other two.

And yes, loving the idea of more family cosplay. Oh god, they would never get ANYWHERE at a con because they’d be getting stopped every 3 feet for pictures. For Star Trek, I feel like they’d do groupings from assorted series and versions. Chris, Peter, and Noah are totally OS Spock, Kirk, and Bones (Peter with strategically torn shirt, of course). I think Melissa would be their Uhura, and Natalie would be Yeoman Rand (she wants to see if she can fake the hairstyle), because I dare anyone to tell them they can’t pull off dresses that short. Since he has sword training from his hunter background, Melissa makes Julio be their Sulu. Boyd, Derek, and Jordan would be Picard, Riker, and Data (Derek would totally figure out how to do that weird way Riker sits down, too.) After much debate, I feel Stiles would be Kirk from the recent films (NuTrek, or whatever they call it), Jackson would be Spock, and Malia would be Bones. I think Lydia would make an excellent Uhura for them, as well. Scott would be Scotty because he can remember to answer to it, and it gives him an excuse to do a TERRIBLE fake accent. I’m leaning towards Isaac for their Chekov, but beyond that can’t think what to do with everybody else, I’m not familiar enough with the different tv shows.

Marvel we’ve talked about some. DC I have a few random ideas. I always thought it would be funny to see Peter, Derek, Jackson, and Liam do the assorted Robins. While I feel Peter is DEFINITELY more of a Jason personality wise, I think he’d be far more comfortable in Dick’s costume that Derek would be, and if Derek was Jason the heights would line up better. Jackson would be Tim, and Liam would be Damian (because who else would play DC’s tiny and angry than TW’s tiny and angry?) Also, don’t overlook the fun and variety of villains DC offers. The last group costume I did was a cross between Bill & Ted and assorted Bat-villains. We called it Bruce & Dick’s Excellent Adventure, and even photoshopped a sign to carry to help people get it. Among our line-up was Cleo-Catra, Ivybeth the First, The Poison Queen, Harley Antoinette, Joker Napoleon, Freud Nygma, and Bane-thoven. (I really need to do something with the various pieces of my costume someday.) I know there are several girls in the Bat-fam now, too, depending on who all wants to be a part of it, or if they want to skew more Justice League/Teen Titans/Young Justice.

Oh man, Disney. So many options. I feel like Lydia and Allison as Ariel and Prince Eric is a given. I also like the idea of Kira and Malia as Belle and the Beast, partially because of Malia’s issues about having to hide her nature, and also because I think she could absolutely rock that suit. Ben could join them as Chip. (Stiles would actually make an excellent Belle, but I feel that might just get weird.) I can see Danny helping Erica rig up a Sleeping Beauty dress with strands of LEDs that keep shifting from pink to blue to green so the dress keeps appearing to change color (it’s a massive hit.) I don’t know why, but I really want Stiles and Jackson as Elsa and Anna for some reason. Scott can join them as either Kristoff or Olaf, depending on the mood he’s in. Can’t quite decide for the other pack kids. Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks. Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.) Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat. Mmm, yes. And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials. Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in. Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work. He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot. (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)

Lord of the Rings. Yes. Like, I can’t figure out who or any real details right now but. Just. Yes.

I feel like some years they enter the costume contest and some they don’t, just depending on their moods. (They totally take the Jurassic Park group to a con and people adore it. It makes for great skits.)

Random bonus thought for the day concerns dancing. I was thinking about the whole drag queen thing, and whether Jungle was around in the 90s, and it sort of segued into what types of dancers they are. I feel like Peter is a very good dancer. Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless. Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance. I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence. With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.) In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often. Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not. He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it. However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Anyway, gonna try and wrap this up, because I just realized it’s way later than I realized, and I should try and get some sleep at some point. Enjoy your game, I hope it’s epic!

When this little paragraph made me realize I had a gaping plot hole in this chapter and I got to go back to fix it. My god my friend, you are a lifesaver!

I also like that it apparently took them nearly 20 years to learn about planning for this sort of thing. I know you’ve mentioned Peter and Chris being the ones that do the stupid thing next chapter (or something to that effect), but really I feel the biggest moment of "what the hell, guys?” is Noah getting knocked up just two months after Chris. It’s like, you guys had a huge, in your face, live example of why protection is important, and yet…

Because oh yeah I wanted to make it canon that wolves can detect a heartbeat of the embryo at 4-5 weeks. Which is about a week after the heart starts beating. And oh yeah, Chris is two months along by the time Noah gets pregnant... shit. I wrote something else in that flashback.

And now I got to fix that, so cheers!

I also finished writing my chapter today! Yay! All glorious 13K of it. And I’ll be editing and posting tomorrow (or technically later today as it is past midnight.) Oh, I’m so excited, I’m so excited to see what you think!

As for the game, my god it is awesome!!! I played a few hours today but my heart raced so much I had to pause after two hours because I was getting dizzy because of my heart. But it’s a great game so far, very accessible and it just draws me in completely. It’s so good.

Definitely what I needed after my day at work.

hehehe I’m happy to see my previews and writing and getting emotions, it sounds so bad, but that makes me smile because it’s getting the desired response and that’s awesome.

“Cue Lego Movie music”

can you imagine the furor that would have occurred about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up in Fourth Year (I think?), and then pulling an innocent little Hufflepuff transfer under their spell? Would any of them have played Quidditch? (Peter I feel definitely played, though I can’t decide what position. Undecided on the other two.)

I think Peter would’ve been a chaser or beater, somehow those seem to fit him well. Noah played but he was a keeper. (which would be funny if Peter was a chaser since they would get to battle lover’s disputes on the quidditch pitch) Chris I feel wouldn’t play quidditch, he’s too busy trying to keep track of his studies and really just likes to watch the sport but not participate. I think he’d be more into care of magical creatures and defends against the dark arts than any kind of sport. Though he does join and excel at the dueling club.

And the scandal of Peter and Noah dating from fourth year on would be massive, people can barely wrap their heads around it. But they’re happy and they’re just doing their own thing. And they don’t pay attention to anyone else but what they think and what Chris thinks of them.

Peter shifting to his wolf form and curling protectively around them all the time, head pressed up to their abdomen so that he can listen and scent at maximum effectiveness. Them just gently stroking through his fur until one or both fall asleep. (Also, how quickly do the other wolves in the family pick up on the changes in scent? How do they react? How do the older kids react to the idea of more siblings in general?)

<3 <3 it’s honestly an adorable image. The twins are very active when dad’s curled up around them, knowing just where to kick so Peter’s wakes up by a foot to the face. Though he doesn’t mind and just nudges back gently, letting out a low grumbling noise or whine that he knows the babies can hear in utero. As for how quickly, it depends on whether or not they smelled it before. Jackson, Ben, or Scott wouldn’t pick up on it. They weren’t wolves around pregnancies before. Malia and Derek catch on quickly though. They start noticing the scent change at around 5-6 weeks and hear the little heartbeats of the new family members.

Malia is moderately excited, she’s a little worried about her dad and how he will handle pregnancy at his age. (Although he’s like 35 when he gets pregnant, that counts as a geriatric pregnancy, dad... I’m worried.)

Stiles just flips between the two of extreme worry where he read up on pre-eclampsia and other pregnancy complications and birth complications and omg what if that happens. But he’s also so so excited because omg he’s finally gonna be an older brother!!

(He knows he’s Ben’s older brother, and he adores the tyke, but it’s different when you have a pregnancy close instead of a five-year-old sibling from one day to another.)

Jackson is pouty and a bit grumpy. He feels like he’s losing baby status in the family more and more and he doesn’t know how to deal. (Ben was a bit difficult to get used to for him but Chris handled it well by setting time aside for his baby Jackson. It helped. But now he’s a teen and there’s going to be two more babies and he’s- he doesn’t know how to feel. When Chris breaks the news he wants to have another baby he’s even more torn but he does come around, deciding that he will always be the baby of the family, even when he’s not.

It’s a good compromise. And the three parents set some time for each of their kids so everyone gets attention.

Allison handles it the best out of the teens, she’s very excited for all of them and immediately to volunteers helping with decorating the new nursery. She paints a few awesome looking murals of Winnie the Pooh or Bambi or some other cutesy Disney animals (Or maybe even a space/star wars or a fairy tale ala Fables theme?) and just goes all out. She also convinces Malia to quilt a blanket for the new baby and helps her knit a few cute hats. She’s just extremely excited and happy.

Ben is very happy too, he’s finally not the youngest anymore and he’s happy to be an older brother. He also finds it fascinating to learn how pregnancy works and how those babies got in there in the first place. They let him tell them how it works and explain some basic details, sperm, egg, you need both to have a baby and the baby grows in pops and papa’s belly. But they leave out any details that Ben doesn’t figure out or doesn’t ask about to keep it more age-appropriate for him.

Though Ben’s smart and he figures out a lot on his own. Noah and Peter are honestly impressed by Ben’s deductive skills. They knew Jackson and Stiles had them, but they hadn’t expected Ben to show them too. He’s a quiet observer.

They were not prepared for the sheer DILF power of that household live and in person. But then, is anyone, really?

Honestly, I don’t think anyone is. Nobody can resist the sheer DILF power.

Since the theme is nominally just fairy tales, I think the dads could just opt for a classier, fancier version of their Red Riding Hood looks. Maybe go for a steampunk edge or something (I would have included links here, but Google was not my friend today and I couldn’t find quite what I wanted.) Rich velvets and wools in vivid scarlet and forest-y greens, black and deep brown leather and suede, lots of polished buttons and buckles, loose cotton shirts unlaced at the throat. Mmm, yes. And Peter could have one of those super fancy Victorian type nightgowns with the long sleeves and high necks made out of super soft and fine materials. Instead of getting some kind of mask to wear, he’d just do his partial/beta/whatever you want to call it shift and let them add extra fur on with makeup to blend it in. Everyone just thinks it’s amazing effects work. He does opt for some cute wolf paw slippers since cons tend to get snotty about people going around barefoot. (Applying and removing the fur is also how they learn his ears are particularly…sensitive…to a delicate touch in that form.)

I- this whole thing? yes. Headcanon accepted because it is that good. I can literally just see them going in steampunk hunter, red riding hood and the wolf. thank you for putting that image in my mind XD

I feel like Peter is a very good dancer. Not quite competition level, maybe, but very skilled, nonetheless. Like Malia, he’s just very comfortable in himself, in all forms, which helps with spatial and bodily awareness, in addition to his natural grace and balance. I also feel he’s the most likely to have taken, like, ballroom lessons or similar as a kid, maybe at a parent or grandparent’s insistence. With Noah I keep thinking about the various videos I’ve seen of Dylan dancing both outside of TW and as Stiles, and I feel his dad would have a very similar style of awkward disaster from the chest up, undulations worthy of a harem girl from the waist down (those Stilinski boys tend to leave a lot of confused boners in their wake.) In Noah’s case, settling into his frame after that last growth spurt and learning self-defense/martial arts helped smooth most of the awkward out, but it resurfaces every so often. Chris I think would be the least likely to dance, just because I feel his background would make him very self-conscious about it, whether he wants to feel that way or not. He’ll dance if it’s just the three of them or just family, or for a slow dance, but that’s normally it. However, if he’s drunk enough, or if Noah or Peter have dragged him into a dark corner to makeout for a while and gotten him all distracted and relaxed, he can be pursued out onto the floor to show off some actually pretty sweet moves once he lets go.

Malia definitely inherited Peter’s dancing skills, I like to think Jackson did as well. Those three are the best dancers in the family. They just move with natural ease.

Allison is a decent dancer, her gymnastics training really helps but she’s not as fluent as her brother, sister, or dad.

I feel like Noah and Stiles have awkward flailing down to a T but every once in awhile there’s a hip movement worthy of a fucking professional dancer and it’s very confusing. But yeah, totally agree with that assessment of them.

Chris isn’t much of a dancer and neither is Ben. Both of them are very self-conscious. Chris gets better when he’s drunk because he let’s go of insecurity but even then it’s not great. He just doesn’t dance, it’s not his thing. Although he was a very good grinding and hip rotation move. He’s also pretty good at jump style once he lets himself go and just turns his mind off. but the rhythmic jumping just feels natural to him. He also likes to slow dance since he can just bury his face in Noah’s shoulder or nuzzle Peter’s cheek and just forget about everything else.

Also, I like to think they all love to sing. Chris’s voice is best suited for country I feel like. Noah’s more for singer-songwriter. And Peter just loves singing pop songs and he knows how to hit some high notes.

And now I am going to bed because It’s almost three am XD And I need some sleeps. Thankfully I have the day off this sunday.

#ben says stuff #once upon a time comments #submission

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tylerhoechlin · 7 years

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Back from the brink, Dylan O'Brien is ready to prove he's an action hero

or the past year, Dylan O’Brien has been in hiding. He spent most of his time inside his home in Sherman Oaks, wondering if he’d ever be the same person he was before the accident. Not just emotionally, but physically too: After major reconstructive surgery that left him with four metal plates holding one side of his face together, he feared he’d never look the same again.

“It’s a miracle, what they’ve done,” O’Brien says, placing his hand on his cheek. Indeed, the actor’s team of doctors must have done some incredible work, given the fact that he looks almost exactly as he always has — the boyish teen heartthrob who has amassed an army of young female fans since he began working on MTV’s “Teen Wolf” at age 18.

Of course, he’s 26 now, so he’s filled out a bit, and there’s also a hint of patchy scruff on his face. He had enough gravitas to him that the producers of “American Assassin,” which opens nationwide Friday, felt confident casting him as the grizzled action-hero Mitch Rapp — even though the character in Vince Flynn’s bestselling books was widely believed by readers to be in his 40s.

“American Assassin” is the reason O’Brien emerged from his self-imposed exile. He’d signed onto the film just a few weeks before he began work on “Maze Runner: The Death Cure,” the third and final installment in 20th Century Fox’s post-apocalyptic young-adult franchise. He was hoping “Assassin” would mark the beginning of a new period in his career. In 2017, after six seasons, “Teen Wolf” would come to an end, as would the “Maze Runner” series.

“I’ve never looked at myself as this pop candy type,” O’Brien says, peppering his speech with more colorful language. “I felt like I was more real than that, so I would get mad when someone would say [I was a teen heartthrob]. I’d be like, ‘I’m 19! I’m a stoner!’ I really resented that.”

He was so excited to begin work on “Assassin” that he fielded calls from director Michael Cuesta just as production began in Vancouver, Canada, on the final “Maze Runner” film. Together, they discussed how O’Brien would approach the character, a 23-year-old who is recruited by the CIA to hunt down terrorists after he witnesses his girlfriend’s murder at the hands of Muslim radicals.

“I spoke with him on a Saturday when he had just started ‘Maze Runner,’ addressing his notes and concerns about the character,” Cuesta recalls. “He was really excited and seemed like, ‘Yeah, I’m ready to do this.’ I was like, ‘Pace yourself, dude. Take it slow. We’ll talk when you’re off this project.’ That was Saturday, and on Wednesday, I got a text from my agent telling me that this awful thing had happened to him.”

On the third day of production in Canada, O’Brien was performing a stunt that required him to be harnessed to the top of a moving vehicle; reports claim he was accidentally pulled off that vehicle midstunt and hit by another vehicle. As a result, he suffered “a concussion, facial fracture and lacerations,” according to a report from WorkSafeBC.

Fox put production on hold in March 2016, and O'Brien ultimately returned to set a year later — after he'd shot "Assassin." “Death Cure,” which was originally scheduled to open in February of this year, is now set for release Jan. 26, 2018.

“I didn’t really wake up or become cognizant, in a way, for a good six-to-eight weeks after it happened,” O’Brien explains. “And then I entered a really difficult phase. I just wasn’t the same person. Things happen to you after something like that that you just don’t have any control of. Your body is designed to react in a way to protect itself if you have a severe trauma to your brain.”

The actor is sitting at a hotel bar in late August, publicly discussing his accident for the first time. He’s been anticipating this day for months. He knew how it would go, meeting reporters at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, where he’s done press a handful of times before. Even though he was supposed to be talking about “American Assassin,” he’d also have to talk about what had happened to him.

“I hid for a long time, obviously. I was going through a lot and didn’t want anybody to see me going through that, I guess,” he explains. “But I’ve gotten to an OK place of talking about it all. I’ve had to come to terms with people asking me about what happened.”

In a way, he admits, he regrets being so private about what happened to him, given the rash of recent on-set stunt-related injuries and deaths. Last month, stuntwoman Joi Harris was killed while riding a motorcycle on the set of “Deadpool 2.” In July, a stuntman on AMC’s “The Walking Dead” died after falling and suffering massive head injuries. And actors have been harmed too: Tom Cruise broke his ankle while attempting a jump from one building to another on the set of “Mission: Impossible 6,” and filming had to be halted in August. And on the sets of two different comedies this summer, Rebel Wilson suffered a concussion and Ike Barinholtz fell from a high platform, fracturing two cervical vertebrae in his neck.

“It’s really disappointing, and I think things like that should really wake the industry up,” says O’Brien. “It’s really easy, sometimes, to get comfortable on a set and get into the groove and think it’s all make-believe so nothing bad can happen. As an actor, you blindly put your trust in experts — and if they tell you something’s safe, you don’t fully vet it yourself. If you’re young and inexperienced, that’s just what you’re taught to do.”

While he never felt like a “gun was to [his] head,” O’Brien admits he always felt responsible for performing his own stunts. He’d get upset any time he had to be replaced by a stuntman. When he’d watch one of the first two “Maze Runner” films and catch a shot of his double, he was irritated.

“It bugs you,” he explains. “You see it and you’re like, ‘Ugh, what the [heck]? How do people not notice that’s not me?’”

But if he knew if he was going to move forward with “American Assassin,” he’d have to approach his action sequences with far more caution than he ever had before. Once he decided to stay with the project — and CBS Films, the production company behind the movie, agreed to wait for him to fully recover — he began working extensively with action coordinator Roger Yuan to ready himself for the movie’s hand-to-hand combat scenes.

Not surprisingly, O’Brien says, there were strict parameters set in place by the film’s insurance company that dictated just how much he could do himself in the wake of his accident. But he was still eager to do the fight scenes himself, so he rehearsed them extensively — to the point, he says, where he literally could do the choreography blindfolded.

“You just want to know it to that extent so that everybody knows what they’re doing on that day,” he says. “And then when you get to that day and somebody says, ‘Wait, can we just change this?’ You say ‘No.’ Things like that, you’ve gotta stand up for. I’ve understood more of where my voice can exist. When I was younger, I used to just want to please everybody and not want to be an issue or not be considered a diva. I’ve just grown up and realized you have to look out for yourself and stick up for yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Other protections were built into the production to make O’Brien feel more at ease too: His father, a veteran below-the-line staffer, was hired as a camera operator so he could be there if needed for his son. And “on the days we were putting Dylan in a situation that might make him uncomfortable, we took longer than we might normally take because we didn’t want to rush it,” says producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura. “We were acutely conscious of not putting him in a situation where he could have an adverse reaction — a stunt that might rekindle something.”

O’Brien had also spent time readying himself mentally for the return to set even before production began, visiting with a therapist two times a week. It was there that he realized the similarities he now shared with Mitch Rapp, a character struggling to contain his anger in the wake of a serious trauma.

“It felt like this version of me at the time, always trying to hide from people,” he says. “I was in a really dark place. Obviously, I didn’t experience what he goes through, but that summer when I was in recovery, I was going through a lot. Funny enough, I felt so deeply connected to the dude, and I don’t think I would have known how to play him if this hadn’t happened.”

Meanwhile, it remains to be seen whether “American Assassin” will be the role to catapult O’Brien into adult leading-man territory. His young female fans are still ravenous, anyway: On set in Rome, they once became so intense that the actor was forced to move to a different hotel.

“I saw some fans outside afterward, and three of their moms gave me the finger,” says Cuesta with a laugh. “They hated me because I was keeping Dylan from them.”

The producers of “Assassin” are hoping the film does well enough at the box office this weekend to launch a new action franchise. O’Brien knew that was a possibility, and says he’d be happy to play Mitch Rapp again. But he’s also looking forward to doing something smaller — “finding the new generation of filmmakers and taking risks on guys who don’t have a 25-year résumé.” The idea of acting in a Marvel superhero film, he says, makes him shudder.

“It just seems like too much,” he says. “I don’t think I’m a person who could handle being that face, that star who has to be on every talk show every year. It gives you a lot of flexibility and freedom in things that you do want to do, but it also takes a lot of your time away. And just artistically, it must be hard to keep suiting up and be the same character again over and over all year long in a bunch of different movies. I would like to have a lower profile and career, in a way, but still do things that mean something to me.”

He’s proud of his work in “Assassin,” he says, but he almost doesn’t look at it as a movie.

“It was everything but, in a way,” he acknowledges. “Look, I was angry for a long time. But at this point, that’s not going to do anything. I have to process what happened and move beyond it, and I have. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it’s provided me with a lot of growth and insight that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”

[source: LA Times]

#dylan o'brien #mitch rapp #american assassin #amas #article #la times #accident #recovery #scruffysterekposts

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coldxrn · 7 years

Note

1-150

FYI I DELTED ALL MY ANSWERS ON @130 ON ACCIDENT SO YOURE LUCKY I CANT SLEEP

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? @coral-reef-tundra2. Are you outgoing or shy? A little of both3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My pup4. Are you easy to get along with? Not really5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I hope so6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Nice, funny, and caring ones7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Who knows8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? My fucking hallmate9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? I like it10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? @nothing-to-lose11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “hahah if they’re good”12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? What Ifs, Fighter, Her, All on Me, Just a Phase13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? It depends14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes15. What good thing happened this summer? Her16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Yessss17. Do you think there is life on other planets? There is18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Sometimes, he’s my neighbor19. Do you like bubble baths? Yes20. Do you like your neighbors? Kind of21. What are you bad habits? I rock my ring back and forth, and take my hair down and put it back up22. Where would you like to travel? Greece, Malaysia, Thailand, Japan23. Do you have trust issues? Who doesn’t?24. Favorite part of your daily routine? The gym or crossfit25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My obliques/love handles26. What do you do when you wake up? Check my phone, head to the gym27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? No28. Who are you most comfortable around? @hypnopomicwolf @nothing-to-lose @coral-reef-tundra29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? All of them (in the last 2 weeks too)30. Do you ever want to get married? Yes31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Like 332. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? None33. Spell your name with your chin. maghioue34. Do you play sports? What sports? Softball and xfit35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yes37. What do you say during awkward silences? Nothing normally 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Funny, cute, dorky, smart, caring39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Forever 21 and Urban40. What do you want to do after high school? Um?41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? It depends42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I’m upset43. Do you smile at strangers? Yes44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Neither45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? The need to exercise46. What are you paranoid about? People not liking me47. Have you ever been high? No48. Have you ever been drunk? Yes49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? No50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Grey51. Ever wished you were someone else? No52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? My insecurity about who likes me and who doesn’t53. Favourite makeup brand? Tarte or Glossier54. Favourite store? Forever 2155. Favourite blog? @coldely56. Favourite colour? Black like my soul57. Favourite food? Too many too choose58. Last thing you ate? Lays salt and vinegar chips w ketchup59. First thing you ate this morning? Nothing60. Ever won a competition? For what? Softball, skiing, running, art, poetry61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? No62. Been arrested? For what? No63. Ever been in love? Yes64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Hell down in truth or dare in 8th grade65. Are you hungry right now? No66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? They the same yo67. Facebook or Twitter? Facebook68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now? Yes70. Names of your bestfriends? @hypnopomicwolf, Gwen, Amy, and @nothing-to-lose is under consideration71. Craving something? What? Being around her72. What colour are your towels? Tan72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 473. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Sometimes74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? 8 I think75. Favourite animal? Horse76. What colour is your underwear? Red77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Butter Brickle79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Red80. What colour pants? Black shorts81. Favourite tv show? Greys/HTGAWM/SVU/NCIS/PLL/Teen Wolf/13RW82. Favourite movie? Edge of 17/The First Time83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Mean Girls84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? 21JS85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Cady86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Bruce87. First person you talked to today? Person at rec 88. Last person you talked to today? @nothing-to-lose89. Name a person you hate? Kid in the room next door that is playing dubstep @2:41AM90. Name a person you love? My doggo91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Kid in the room next door92. In a fight with someone? Eh kinda?93. How many sweatpants do you have? 5+94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? 10+95. Last movie you watched? Guardians of the Galaxy 296. Favourite actress? Marika Domińczyk 97. Favourite actor? Zac Efron98. Do you tan a lot? Intentionally or?99. Have any pets? 2 doggos and 1 pupper100. How are you feeling? “eh”101. Do you type fast? Yes like 90 wpm102. Do you regret anything from your past? Yes duh103. Can you spell well? No just ask @nothing-to-lose104. Do you miss anyone from your past? My boys ):105. Ever been to a bonfire party? No106. Ever broken someone’s heart? No107. Have you ever been on a horse? Yes I used to be a trainer and riding instructor108. What should you be doing? Sleeping109. Is something irritating you right now? Yess v much so110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yes111. Do you have trust issues? Doesn’t everyone?112. Who was the last person you cried in front of @hypnopomicwolf113. What was your childhood nickname? Wonder Bread and Yoda114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yes115. Do you play the Wii? No116. Are you listening to music right now? Yes ugh117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? No118. Do you like Chinese food? Yes119. Favourite book? Anything by Jodi Picoult120. Are you afraid of the dark? Only when I’m alone121. Are you mean? Sometimes122. Is cheating ever okay? No123. Can you keep white shoes clean? No I’m a mess124. Do you believe in love at first sight? Yes125. Do you believe in true love? Yes126. Are you currently bored? No127. What makes you happy? Her, my pup, my friends, being outside, working out128. Would you change your name? No129. What your zodiac sign? Cap130. Do you like subway? It depends131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? I’m gay so132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? My dog133. Favourite lyrics right now? Google What Ifs134. Can you count to one million? No ):135. Dumbest lie you ever told? That I “found” my dog136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed137. How tall are you? 5′2138. Curly or Straight hair? Wavy139. Brunette or Blonde? Blonde140. Summer or Winter? Winter141. Night or Day? Night142. Favourite month? October143. Are you a vegetarian? Vegan144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? White145. Tea or Coffee? Coffee146. Was today a good day? No147. Mars or Snickers? Mars148. What’s your favourite quote? Too many right now149. Do you believe in ghosts? No150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? Too far away

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 7 years

Text

Bloodlines - Part 6

A/N: Based off of the song “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots, this will be a multichapter fic with either a lyric being a chapter title, or the headers to break down the thought process of the chapter. None of the lyrics are mine, and they are all in bold - Again, I do not claim to own them, all credit where credit is due.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Word Count: 2,751 (Not including lyrics.)

Warnings: None that I know of. Mild language?

Beautiful people who helped me when I came to them with this crazy idea and said to run with it: @wheresthekillswitch @obsessed-withthe-hales @aworldmadeforme @life-what-life-i-dont-have-one @xteenwolfwritingsx

Coming back to Beacon Hills was supposed to be uneventful. Yet somehow, you are now stuck in the middle of two worlds you didn’t even know existed yesterday. Now between both worlds, but not belonging to either, you try to forge your own way, finding out that some ties are stronger than bloodlines.

Series Masterlist

Xxx

We don’t deal with outsiders very well

The stare off between you and your father lasted an uncomfortable amount of time, but you refused to shift your weight under his glare. In fact, you felt your spine go a little straighter at the challenge, wanting to smirk when he was the first to glance away, sharing a look with your mother who stood to the side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her features hard from what you could make out in your peripherals.

“You know, dad,” you drawled in a tone Peter would have been proud of, “the time frame for you to give me any type of answer other than an explanation has passed. The fact that you didn’t answer immediately means there is a story you’re not telling me, and until you tell me, I’m not moving.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Not one inch.”

Glancing between you and your mother, your father’s face crumbled. “My God, you are a mirror image of your mother right now, and it’s scaring me. Stop it!”

“Spill!” You said, not giving him a beat.

“Okay!” He nearly yelled, stopping to take a deep breath, crossing his arms himself before glancing down to them and rolling his eyes before he dropped them back to his sides emphatically. “Okay,” he said again, this time softer. Closing his eyes and hanging his head, he let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, to answer your question, I know exactly what we are.” Looking back up, he opened his eyes to meet yours, their bright red glow causing your jaw to slowly drop. “I’m a we-”

“Werewolf,” you finished for him, softly, the word feeling right coming off your tongue. It had a taste, a feeling, like taking a sip of cold water after being outside in the sun all day.

Your father snapped his mouth shut and nodded once quickly in confirmation, letting his eyes fade, a much less dramatic exit than his entrance.

Glancing to your mom, you raised your eyebrow skeptically. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys were werewolves?”

She smiled faintly, looking down to the ground as she rocked back on her heels once before looking up. “Because it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

A silence settled as you processed the information. Or, rather, tried to. “I don’t understand.”

“Your father is a werewolf, yes, but I am not.”

You stared at her a moment before whining. “Please don’t tell me you’re a Kanima!”

Your father’s “What the hell is a ‘Kanima’?” overlapped your mother’s “How the hell do you know what a ‘Kanima’ is?”

The silence was heavy. “You still haven’t answered my question,” you finally huffed out.

She smiled a bit broader, holding up a hand to silence your father, his face was still screwed up in confusion over the creature you had just mentioned. “I’m a hunter.”

Nothing made sense anymore. The world was upside down. Left was right, up was down, and a crooked line was straight. “What?”

Jumping slightly at motion in your peripherals, you turned your gaze back to your father who had flicked out his claws, nodding gently at his mumbled, ‘sorry’.

“Why don’t I just show you?” His eyes glowed red for a fraction of a second.

Letting out a disbelieving laugh, you stepped back just a fraction of an inch, holding out your hands as a shield. “Nooooo,” you elongated the word, laughing on the vowel slightly. “No, thanks. I’ve already had that done to me, and while it turned out okay in the end, I don’t really wanna relive that experience.”

“Who?!” Both of your parents yelled in unison.

You gulped. “Never mind, forget it.”

Your father shook his head in confusion, but moved on anyway. “We had Talia take your memories before we left because our secret could have gotten you and many others killed.”

“Why didn’t you do it?” Your question seemed to catch your father off guard before he smiled proudly at the realization that you understood how packs worked on some level.

His eyes glowed bright red yet again, but didn’t show any sign of fading. “Because I wasn’t an Alpha then.”

They say newcomers have a certain smell

“So, your dad did that…. claw thing,” Stiles mumbled, swiping his hand lamely in a gesture on the word as if no one else in the loft knew what the word meant.

Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Yes, Stiles, he did the…. claw thing,” you imitated his gesture, earning you a huff from your friend, which only made you smirk.

Stiles stared at you blankly for a long moment. “And?”

You sighed. “Oh, my God, Stiles! And now I know why Derek wanted to throw a book at your face the other day!”

He looked to Derek who happened to be studying a thick book on the table by the windows with his back to the two of you on the couch. “You wanted to throw a book at me?!”

“Yes,” was Derek’s dry answer.

“What day was this?”

“It ended in ‘y’.”

“Oh,” Stiles paused, looking off into the distance deep in thought before nodding in consent. “That’s understandable.” You narrowed your eyebrows at him. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you, it means the world to me, not that I asked.”

You snickered at Derek’s dry tone as he simply turned a page in the book, Stiles mumbling incoherently as he slumped back into the couch beside you, his arm brushing yours as the cushions plotted to push him your way.

“So?” You looked down to where Stiles’ head was resting on your shoulder, and saw him looking up at you expectantly.

You sighed yet again, looking away from him and to no spot in particular across the room before speaking. “I learned about my family. They were a rival pack from here in Beacon Hills.” You glanced to your left and saw Derek looking over his shoulder subtly, his attention now on your conversation instead of the book. “Well, not ‘rival’ in the ‘Grrrr! Turf war!’ sense,” you smiled at Stiles’ snort of laughter, seeing Derek’s shoulders shake gently in a silent laugh. “More of just a, ‘Hey, we both are old families here and have two Alphas because of that, so we kinda have to draw a line in the sandbox and share toys’ sense.”

“Sounds pleasant,” Stiles joked, earning a short lived glare from you before it melted into a genuine chuckle.

“Anyway,” you said pointedly, closing your eyes and shaking your head free of the comment before turning back to your random spot in front of you. “My dad ended up meeting a new family of hunters that moved to town, made a pact with them to help one another should the need arise, along with the Hale’s, and one thing led to another, ending with a werewolf marrying a hunter, and thus cut off from both the werewolf world and hunter world.”

“Wait! They, like, shun you for that?” Stiles sounded outraged, sitting up straight on the couch next to you.

“Don’t you remember how Chris acted with Scott and Allison after they found out he was a werewolf?” Derek’s voice was soft, and turning your gaze to him, you saw he was looking down at the floor on his right, his profile backlit by the windows, making the downturn of his features more dramatic.

“Yeah,” Stiles answered quietly, studying the floor himself in thought, his features slowly melting to match Derek’s.

“That’s why.”

Nodding at Derek’s words, you looked back to Stiles who just ran a hand through his hair and slumped back into the couch yet again, looking off into space, deep in thought.

Patting him on the back softly and offering him a sad smile, you waited until he offered you one in return before rising to your feet and walking slowly to stand beside Derek, purposely putting your feet right in his line of sight where he still stared at the ground, making him flit his gaze up to yours with a small smile.

You returned the grin before leaning on your palms on the desk, looking down to the book he still had open. “When I said ‘line in the sandbox’, I was talking about you, you know.” You looked back up to him with a mischievous grin, seeing his own smirk growing on his face.

“Oh, really?” He scoffed, a laugh rumbling in his chest.

“Yeah! You never shared anything!” You put a finger on the book, trying to pull it your way slowly, slyly, but he scoffed again and placed his hand firmly on the opposing page, pulling it out of your reach quickly. “Hey!”

He stuck his tongue out at you playfully, and you mirrored the ridiculous gesture, making you both laugh. Glancing back to the book, the laughter died slowly and your features turned serious.

“They had your mom take our memories because knowing, well, much of anything about the situation put a person at risk. They did it to protect us. They did it because they wanted us to maybe be in each other’s lives again one day.” You looked back up at him to see him studying the book still firmly under his left hand.

“It sure didn’t seem that way with how your dad reacted the other day.”

You groaned, going from your palms down to your elbows, burying your face in your forearms and making your voice muffled. “Ugh! Don’t remind me. He was just being all Alpha wolfy and stuff.” Turning your face back to look at him again, you rested your cheek on your forearms.

“So a turf war?” He was smirking.

Narrowing your eyebrows at him, you mumbled, “Shut up!” before turning back into the comfort of your arms and muttering mean things as he just laughed at you. Once again turning and resting your cheek on your arms, you looked up at your friend as he took a deep sniff of the air, his brow furrowing before a smile also worked it’s way onto his features as he looked down at you. “What?”

“Something is different about you.” His voice was soft.

“Derek, it’s weird that you want to smell me.” You spoke blandly, turning to look out the windows in front of you, lifting up a little bit and resting your chin in your palm, elbow still bracketed to the table.

“Wait, what?!” Stiles announced his return to the conversation from across the room, his footsteps quickly and loudly approaching from the couch.

“You’re different. ……new.”

“New?”

Stiles was suddenly between the two of you, pushing you apart, or rather trying but mostly just flailing and gesturing as he said, “Okay, new rule, and one I thought I would never have to instate, by the way, my friends do not smell each other. It’s just weird.” He leaned on his palms on the table like you had earlier with a heavy sigh, looking out the window, sandwiched between you and Derek. “I’m surrounded by weirdos.”

You have trust issues, not to mention

“Y/N! I told you I had it!” Derek was growling at you, his wounds healing as he walked towards you, arm gesturing behind him widely.

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” He let out a louder growl. “You could have gotten hurt! That wasn’t the plan! We stick to the plan! We have it for a reason!”

“Look, I may be new, but I know that you guys’ first, sometimes second, even third plans don’t always work out!” You were yelling and gesturing your arms widely as well, getting toe to toe with Derek, your face going red in anger, his eyes flashing blue to show his.

“Hey, now!” Stiles interjected from somewhere behind you. “Planner over here. I find that rude.”

“Shut up!” Scott yelled, eyes glowing bright red for emphasis.

“Sorry,” Stiles said pointedly.

“Not you,” Scott huffed before pointing to you and Derek. “The two of you.”

“Oh, look, now you got us in trouble, Derek!”

“Me?! What the hell did I do?!”

“Enough!” Scott roared this time, making even the crickets in the vicinity go silent in fear.

Derek turned to Scott, his mouth in a hard line, and you couldn’t help but gulp in fear before turning to him with wide eyes.

“The two of you need to quit this bickering. It’s annoying, and it isn’t helping anyone.” He pointed at Derek. “You. Stick to your own part of the plan unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He turned the finger on you. “And you.” His eyes stayed red for a few moments before fading back to human. “Stick to the plan, period. You can’t heal like we do, and believe it or not, I take that into account when planning-”

“Uh, not to be that guy, but, me. I take that into account when planning. I do the planning. That’s my thing.” Scott turned his gaze on Stiles, his eyes glowing again briefly. “Okay, geeze, sorry, you help. Why do I get the glow stick eyes and she gets the puppy dog eyes? What did I ever do to you, Scott?”

You let the two of them bicker while you studied the cement under your feet.

You didn’t know where your allegiances lied.

Scott was the Alpha of the pack, but ever since you found out about your family, you felt torn.

Yes, they had lied to you, in a way, but it was to keep you and others safe. But at the same time, it made you wonder what else they were keeping from you.

Scott hadn’t lied to you, but he and the rest of the pack, Stiles included, treated you like you would break if the wind blew hard enough. You were tired of people walking on eggshells around you.

Then again, you were doing that to yourself. You didn’t quite know what to think about yourself. You just knew you had to trust yourself, it was instinct.

They say they can smell your intentions

Scott had decided to separate you and Derek for a while, sending him back to the Loft with Stiles. Both of them had left grumbling. Stiles said something about not repeating the vet clinic incident, earning him a warning growl from Derek before you couldn’t hear them anymore.

“That’s not going to end well,” you said to Scott, pointing over your shoulder at their retreating forms.

He looked past you and closed his eyes with a grimace as you heard indistinct shouting between them before the slams of the Jeep doors, then you still heard their bickering but it was muffled.

Looking you in the eyes, he smiled that kind smile of his. “We can only hope.”

The turning of the engine sounded behind you before it stopped altogether. The muffled voices sounded calmer, but they escalated for every failed attempt to start the Jeep, resulting in a startled yelp, which you could only assume was Stiles.

“You were saying?” You asked Scott through a wince.

He shook his head as he watched the Jeep.

The engine turned and sputtered once more before roaring to life, and the muffled cry of victory you heard over the growl of the vehicle made you jump.

Looking to Scott once again, you met his eyes and held his gaze for only seconds before you both burst out laughing.

Walking slowly to where Scott had parked his bike, you stared at the ground as you went, trying to find the right words for an apology.

“You like him.”

His statement caught you off guard, making you stop in your tracks, him doing the same only a foot or so in front of you, smirking at your raised eyebrows.

“What?”

He looked in the direction the car had pulled out only minutes before.

“You heard me.” He looked at you pointedly before making it the rest of the way to his bike.

It took you a few seconds to snap out of it before you quickly followed after him, scowling. “You don’t know that.”

“You smell like it.” He said it so honestly, and like it was almost a sweet thing, chuckling at the face you pulled, shaking his head gently as he handed you the spare helmet.

“That’s gross.” You tried to keep your voice detached and even, but it came out on a small laugh as you took the helmet from him roughly, playfully.

“But is it wrong?”

You were glad the visor of your helmet was down to hide your scowl of consideration.

“Shut up and ride, Scotty Boy.”

Xxx

Tags: @palaiasaurus64 @ohphillip @sammyrenae68 @abbytheninja @storytelling-reader @evyiione, @mayahart02, @impala-moose @justdreamstars @twilight-loveer @ajlly What’s this?

#derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #scott mccall x reader #scott mccal imagine #pack x reader #pack imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #bloodlines #my mind spins stories #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf reader insert #teen wolf fluff #fluff #tw fluff

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