#and i wish stiles was there but that's a given

[ronandreams]

i personally just don't understand the hate, i feel like if you watched teen wolf all those years and truly loved the show exactly how it was, you should enjoy the movie too, it was exactly the same?? they captured the atmosphere, the essence of the show, the excitement and the fear, the characters we love & the family they became. i don't like the ending either but we're not always going to agree with the writers' choices, it was still a really fun and great movie, super nostalgic too. not everything is made to be critiqued to hell, some things are just to enjoy lol. i think some of you decided to hate it before even watching it 🤷‍♀️

[princesssmars]

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

[nino-rox]

ANOMALY PART 1

STILES STILINSKI x MALE READER | O

Warnings : None, Teen Wolf AU, Teen Wolf x Original Male Character, Teen Wolf SPOILER ALERT

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

Author’s Note : the car in the picture below is Y/N’s new car

“Y/N, I’m leaving for work. Make sure you don’t get late for school, and drive safe, honey!” You heard your mom say as you packed your back for your first day of school, “Okay, Mom! Have a great day at work,” You responded.

You had just moved to Beacon Hills with your mom a day ago because of her new job at a hospital here. The school was about 20 minutes from your house, and you’d only visited once before for admission.

You made your way to the main door, manoeuvring between the still unpacked cartons. Your new house wasn’t particularly big, it was a small 2 Bedroom, 3 Bathroom apartment on the 1st floor. It wasn’t fancy, but you liked how the windows opened into an amazing view of the town.

You sat into your new car; it was by far the thing you were the most excited about, after all… that’s how your mom managed to bribe you when you said you didn’t want to move to some small town and leave Los Angeles. Your new car was a Black 5-seat Volvo XC40 Hybrid. It was as beautiful as they come - the best breaks, sexy design, brand new release, Electric + Gas - And it felt amazing to drive.

With those thoughts in mind, you drove off to school.

Your mom had given you strict instructions that if you got caught skipping school, she would ground you until the next semester and take the keys to the car. As you reached the school, reality began to set in. You were in some faraway town, away from home, away from your only close friend, and didn’t know anyone. But at this point, it was nothing new to you. Your mom was a famous double board-certified general surgeon, and thanks to that title, her job always made her move around the country.

Perhaps this was why you looked down at your new school - Beacon Hills High School - it wasn’t as big, pretty, or well-known as your previous one. Still, on the upside, you had heard interesting stories about the place and how “weird” things kept happening, so you at least hoped you’d run into Bigfoot or something on one of your regular late-night walks. ( A/N: LMAO HE ABOUT TO REGRET THAT- Sorry)

As you parked your car, a chill went up your spine. You really had no idea what to expect. You took in your surroundings as you got down; the grass was long and wild, the buildings were old, and everyone was … well… they didn’t have the same flair as people in LA.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was a message from your best friend that said, “Hey, listen, Y/N, I’m super late for class right now. I wish you all the best for the first day at Beacon Hills. Oh, and don’t be a judgmental bitch, please. It is a town, not LA, but I’m sure you’ll survive. Don’t worry, stay safe and DO NOT GO LOOKING FOR DANGER…also, let me know if there are any hot guys. Maybe I can come over then.”

It was crazy how she basically knew what you were thinking, so you sent her a message saying, “No hot guys in sight … not one,” to which she replied, “STFU and get to class bitch.”

And as you walked towards the school entrance, you decided it was time to start working on becoming a bit more social and meet some friends here… or not, because who cares…right…?

As you locked your car and began walking to the entrance, you saw a blue Jeep parked next to it; it looked pretty banged up as if a lion had scratched it. You just hoped they didn’t accidentally scrape your car.

Two boys were getting out of the jeep. One was tall and athletic, the other an inch shorter and much skinnier. They looked around your age and looked like they were talking about something serious.

You continued walking in. Your first class of the day was AP (advanced placement) Biology. As you walked in, you prayed the teacher wouldn’t make you introduce yourself; you weren’t in the mood… but oh well.

The teacher spoke as you walked in, greeting and asking you to introduce yourself to the class.

“Hey everyone, my name’s Y/N Shepherd. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you!” You said as you saw a beautiful redhead who later introduced herself as Lydia Martin smile and wave at you, signalling for you to sit with her.

You welcomed the friendly gesture, smiling back and walking over to her before taking a seat.

“So, pretty boy, where are you coming from ?” Lydia asked. “LA, and thanks, you’re quite beautiful yourself,” you said, winking at her, which made her blush slightly.

You were always good at this part, faking a smile, being all friendly, sweet and social when really you never cared.”

Before Lydia could continue interrogating you, the class started.

Over the next hour and a half, the lecture went by.

After the lecture ended, Lydia told you that she would go find out where your locker was. She also gave you some tips on the teachers she thought would be easy and hard and things like that and warned you to not step out too late in the night in Beacon Hills. She mentioned that sometimes people hung out together outside of school and invited you along.

“Thanks! This will definitely help me fit in better,” you smiled.

Lydia smiled and walked off after showing you to your locker. As you began to open your locker, two boys suddenly ran up to you and held the locker door shut. You turned around, ready to rid anyone of the false notion that they could even try to bully you, but your gaze softened a bit when you saw the two boys from the jeep next to your car,

“Heyyy, man, sorry I kinda put some stuff … uh … in there and forgot to take it out last semester. Could you just give us a bit so we can take it out?” The shorter, skinnier one said, almost suspiciously, as if there was a dead body in there. “So? Take it out now. I need to put my stuff in,” you said, opening the locker as you noticed the taller boy sigh in defeat. Suddenly, your eyes went wide; the moment you opened the lock, a huge, maybe 10-foot iron chain began to fall out; the loud sound even made teachers step out to see what was happening. The skinny boy spoke up, “Yeah …. About that … uh.. we can explain … um, it was,” “Don’t bother, I don’t really care, just get it out before you make me late for class”, you interrupted, visibly mad that the whole school probably thinks “you” were the psycho who had iron chains in his locker - when that really wasn’t the case. “We’re really sorry about this,” the taller boy said, grabbing the chains and leaving you in peace. You were judging…you were really judging them. You didn’t care about the chains, but the fact that everyone’s gonna think it was you.

You made your way to your economics class, and to your most unpleasant surprise, both those boys were in your class. As if it wasn’t bad enough already, only one seat was left, and it was right beside them. You chuckled at the irony of the situation - You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or strangle them, so you decided to ignore them and keep it cool.

The class was easy; you already knew everything, so you couldn’t help but get bored. As you began observing the classroom, the skinny boy passed you a chit - you took it hesitantly - it read, “SO SORRY - Stiles.” And had a smiley face drawn next to “stiles,” which made you think. What the hell is a stiles?

You glance back at the boy only to see him grinning at you; at that moment, you feel something - confusion - before you can do anything, you hear the teacher call you to solve a question on the board.

While solving the problem, you kept glancing at the two boys - you could feel their stares burning through your skin. The teacher seemed impressed when you finished solving the question and said, “You see that, Greenberg? That’s how it’s done.” Damn, this man really hates this Greenberg dude, what’d he do? You thought to yourself as you returned to your seat.

You could still feel the two boys staring holes into you; you were beginning to get irritated. You needed to finish some work, and these boys clearly weren’t helping you concentrate.

As you tried to return to your book, the taller boy mumbled something and pointed his finger at you. You were really starting to lose it, but the two boys suddenly got up, telling the teacher they had to go and ran out of the class - what the fuck is wrong with those two, you thought to yourself.

A while later, you were finally done with classes for the day. So far, it had gone well. The teachers liked you, and your classmates did too. The only issue was the whole corridor thing with those two boys, but as long as you stayed away from them, you’d be fine, you thought.

You received a message from Lydia asking you to come to the benches outside the cafeteria. That’s where she was hanging out with her friends after school. You texted back, letting her know you’d arrive in 5 minutes. You were in the mood for a walk and wanted to get some fresh air after that awkward morning.

As you reached the benches, you were absolutely fucking appalled; how is it that wherever you went, you’d run into those two boys - they were sitting next to Lydia - you sighed, taking a deep breath as you walked over, putting on your best smile.

[obriengf]

he loves me, he loves me not - w/stiles

it was hard to muster up that much confidence; to intake such a deep breath that you felt dizzy, to ignore the hammering of your heart against the caging of your chest, to fight against the nagging voice in your head chanting 'stop' over and over again. it was hard to find that courage to speak before you think; to take that long leap between two cliffside edges, laying out your cards without the promise of a full deck, to dip your toes in the cold rage of the ocean waters. the ability to become so incredibly incomposed was something that you wish you could fathom, but it was just so difficult the mere moment you glanced into his eyes. and you knew you were gone. lost. frozen.

"i love you."

it wasn't until you watched his amber eyes grow, bewilderment holding them captive as it was his turn to simply freeze. you didn't even recognise your voice as is slipped involuntarily past your shaky lips - an out of body experience, watching as the scene began to fade to a murky grey to complement the darkened cloud that had suddenly appeared overhead.

stiles gulped. visibly. painfully. conflict danced between the scrunch of his brows and twitch of his jaw - the embodiment of trepidation, eptimome of ambivalence, quintessence of apprehension. he was all of the confusion and indecisiveness that one could muster, and he wore it so well like a badge of honour that he did not want. on the inside, his lengthy fingers would be tearing at his hair and provoking gasps of panic from the look he knew you would be giving him next. the look, that he knew, would break him as much as it was about to break you.

"i-i don't... i'm sorry, but i don't love you. not, not like that."

it was a whisper that could have so easily been carried with the wind. it was quiet, and soft, and shaky as his voice broke. if you weren't standing so goddman close with anticipation, then you would've missed it. it was hard to see those beautiful amber eyes after that - your view disrupted by a glaze of emotion, tears that gathered and clung for dear life until you would allow them to fall. the possibility of his denial was always on the board, but you wished otherwise. you manifested the love he would give you, and how he could have repaired your aching heart, and given you the devotion that you so easily offered him.

words were lost on your tongue as they weighed heavily, preventing any further prying, stopping any further embarrassment.

it was like air as you stepped around him - feet light, floating, the ghost of who you were moving without any thought. you couldn't feel how your heart sunk and screamed for help, how it was drowning. numbness filled the cavity of your empty body, just a shell of a girl who laid everything on the line before losing it all. it was always going to be a gamble.

stiles forgot how to move, himself. as if the second you left his presence, a switch was flicked and his power was drained. what he said was in all truth, but that didn't make it any better; it wouldn't ease his conscious or remove the image of your broken composure from the forefront of his mind. he was convinced that his heart already belonged to another, and even they had no idea just how much of a hold they truly had. would he be able to love more than once? the thoughts were rough as they penetrated his chest, his heart on a skewer, the agony prevalent at the prospect of losing you.

the image of your saddened expression returned and stiles shut his eyes. he could feel you with him, still - seconds had barely passed, everything moving in slow motion. he could smell your perfume as it lingered behind him, and the crack of a stray sob that was choked back. he wanted to reach for you. his hands clenched, momentum building to swing around and just grasp at your wrist, to pull you back to him -

"there you are!" his eyes opened, but there was someone else there. the figure of which he had imagined his heart belonging to, the person he was so surely convinced was for him. but now, he wasn't so sure.

their hold was gentle as they cupped his cheek, asking if something was wrong. stiles shook his head and offered a smile, convincingly enough for the worry to be dropped and forgone. the story that followed from the kind soul before him was lost on deaf ears as he turned around slightly.

he shouldn't have turned. he should not have looked briefly over his shoulder. he should not have let the curiosity get the better of him. stiles should have left it as it was.

because if he did, then he wouldn't have seen you wipe away the tears that you let fall. nor would he have seen the anguish that came with your broken heart.

he wouldn't have wondered, for such a sweet small second, of what would've happened if he just told you that he loved you too.

[hedwig221b]

HIIII can you list some of your favourite angst heart-wrenching sobbing sliding down the walls fics ? idc if it’s short or long i need some angst rnn please and thank uuu <3

Hi, sweetie! This was difficult for me, bc I'm a sucker for angst, basically all I read is angst and I have like 200 fics saved. Here's a looong list of the ones which I know for sure I can always come back to for some good old angst.

STEREK ANGST FIC RECS from HEDWIG221B

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

(Explicit, 33k, Amnesia, Violence)

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

all roads they lead me here by spaceprincessem

(Teen, 39k, Mates, Emissary Stiles)

“Then why wouldn’t you be Derek’s emissary?” Stiles asked. He just wished Deaton would get to the fucking point. He was tired and he hated playing twenty questions to figure out what the older man was getting at.

“Derek’s emissary needs to be someone who he trusts completely,” Deaton explained, “and it’s time I passed on my wisdom and expertise to that person.”

The beat of silence between them stretched for too long before Stiles realized exactly who Deaton was talking about.

“Me?” He asked incredulously.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Mature, 25k, Medieval, Royalty, Pining)

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend.

In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better.

~*~

Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath

(Gen, 3,6k, Pining)

I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 33k, ABO, Mating Run, Bad Peter)

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 108k, 14/?, Courting, Fantasy, Royalty)

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

xcaellachx

Just check out this author, there's some major angst in a lot of their works, a lot of ABO

Hung The Moon by nrnyx

(Explicit, 85k, ABO, Pack Dynamics, Heavy Angst)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

A gift worth giving by Nival_Vixen

(Mature, 2k, Historical Fantasy, Royalty)

A person’s virginity is not only the physical act itself, but also an object that can be gifted to someone else. Stiles has given his virginity to Derek, one of the soldiers in the King’s Guard. Despite his parting promise to return the next month, Derek still hasn’t returned two months later, and Stiles doubts that he ever loved him at all.

The Bargain by dr_girlfriend

(Teen, 9,7k, Arranged Marriage, Regency AU)

Time drags on, and it becomes apparent that this is not a part of the tradition. The wolves start to shift on their feet and murmur, but no one attempts to speak to Stiles. He stands, feeling the back of his neck growing red from the sun and his face growing red from embarrassment.

What will happen if Derek Hale cannot be coerced to the altar? Will the bargain be revoked?

Perception by DiscontentedWinter

(Mature, 5,4k, Horror, Nogitsune, Murder)

Peter Hale's client is a murderous sociopath. The best thing Peter can do is get him committed to Eichen House, where he'll never see daylight again.

He thinks.

The Omega Spark by misteeirene

(Explicit, 62k, ABO, Alive Hales, Pack Dynamics)

John lived a sad and lonely life after the death of his wife, until one day when he noticed someone had breaking into his home while he was at work.

Second Chances by rootbeer

(Gen, 2,6k, Soulmates)

"A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. 'Excuse me'; 'thank you'; 'hello'. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you' or 'Wow you’re really pretty'. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world' tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret."

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Teen, 7,6k, ABO, Full-shift werewolves, Pack Dynamics)

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

I Shouldn't Love you Anymore by wulfarchival (wyrmwolf)

(Mature, 2,2k, Established sterek, Feral Derek)

After Stiles divorces Derek under mysterious reasons, Derek moves out into the middle of nowhere loosing himself to the wolf after the ache in his chest becomes too much. But after weeks of being lost to an animal someone he thought he'd never see again returns in his life.

This time to stay forever.

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress

(Explicit, 112k, ABO, Secret Relationship)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Life After This by Nimpalous

(Mature, 5,1k, Violence, MCD, Soul Bond, I consider this having a HE)

Feeling his weight shift backwards over the ledge when another bullet hit, Stiles closed his eyes and whispered the name of his beloved as he fell.

“Derek…”

Derek woke up with an agonising scream, his body curling in on itself in pain. He wasn’t aware of having wolfed out, he didn’t know he was clawing himself as he clutched at his head, willing the agony to go away… but to no avail.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(Mature, 70k, Time Travel, Mates, ptsd!Stiles)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

(Teen, 48k, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Stiles is pushed out of the pack)

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights.

And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Under Glass by calrissian18

(Mature, 6,6k, Pining, Cursed Stiles)

The pack goes looking for a cursed artifact. Stiles would really like to go back to the time before he found it, thanks.

Time To Say Goodbye by matildajones

(Teen, 34k, Time Travel, Mates, HE)

Derek finds an older version of himself at his front door, along with Stiles, a boy from the future.

Emissary by dragon_temeraire

(Teen, 3,7k, Alive Hales, Bonding)

To keep the peace, Stiles agrees to be emissary to the Hale pack.

One Thread by RurouniHime

(Mature, 11k, Established sterek, Grief, HE)

In the middle of the night, his dad comes into the room and crawls onto the bed behind him, easing Stiles into the vee of his legs. He settles back against the headboard with a groan and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Stiles wraps his arms around one of his dad’s legs, presses his cheek to warm flannel, and tries to be still.

“Oh, kid,” his dad exhales. His hand comes down on the side of Stiles’ neck and his fingers press gently. “I never wanted you to know this pain.”

(Or, Derek dies. Stiles reacts Badly.)

[christinesficrecs]

What are your favorite festive/Christmas fics? 🥹

Oh goodness! There are so many! Here are a few to start.

A Royal Christmas Engagement by  skoosiepants | 25.6K

Young omega Warden Lord Mieczysław Stilinski, given the royal request of marrying Crown Prince Derek Hale of Triskelion, predictably messes the whole entire thing up.

The flamingo in the yard by  Vendelin | 6.1K

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

Deck the Hales with Mistletoe and Holly by tryslora | 32.8K | Mature

The one where Stiles manages to somehow imply that he might be dating his exceedingly hot TA for freshman lit, and ends up inviting him home for the holidays (along with his two crazy sisters) and really hopes that Lydia doesn't find out he was lying and kill him before maybe he can make it so he's not lying after all...

Layover by  dr_girlfriend | 3.6K

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

nom de plume by  bleep0bleep | 3.9K

There are no more chapters. 22 is the last one. Derek groans in despair. He has to know what happens.

Glad Tidings by stilinskisparkles | 24.1K | Mature

“Eight people are going to be descending on our home in a mere matter of days, Derek.” Stiles grabs the pizza box, uses it to gesture at the pile of books and papers under the table, away and towards Derek’s sneaker collection. “You want them to think we live like this all the time?”

“We do live like this all the time,” Derek huffs, stretching lazily.

Mistletoe Never Lies by CarolineLahey | 19.2K | Explicit

Derek Hale loves his family, he really does. He just wishes they weren't so determined to set him up. When he finally blurts out that he has a boyfriend, and quickly gives his mother the name of the barista at his local coffee shop as his "boyfriend", he figures that buys him a little peace. He probably should have been paying attention to the part of the conversation where he agreed to bring Stiles home for Christmas to meet the family.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep | 10.8K

“It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”

The Christmas Raffle by mikkimouse | 10.3K | Explicit

Every year, the royal Hale family raffles off a Christmas dinner with Prince Derek to raise money for charity. But this year, the winner is the second chance Derek didn't know he was looking for.

With A Little Christmas Magic by Ashabadash | 10.6K

Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek. ((Or: In Wich Stiles in an Elf and Derek is a Christmas Coffee Magician))

[bagerfluff]

can I request stiles stilinski x male reader

take place way after void has been defeated

plot new student joins the school and he very tall muscular leather wearing bad boy who stiles become whipped for reader ask stiles out and stiles agrees all to excitedly but scott doesn't like nor trust reader you know how stiles usually the paranoid one well this time stiles is not but Scott is you know when Scott get paranoid it bad real bad Scott is having a full on paranoid panic attack that because he can't sense what reader is but Scott know reader not human leading Scott to believe reader is the most dangerous thing Scott and the pack has ever encountered and Scott just suppose to let his best friend be hang around reader absolutely not so imagine Scott reaction to stiles telling him that stiles and reader are going on a date alone all by themselves at night --------- reader is a hybrid between a demon and a hellhound and a nogistue

reader father is a hybrid between a demon and a hellhound reader mother is a nogistue like void

Your wish is my command and I hope I fulfilled your wish. If you wish for a part two tell me and I might do it.

The New Kid

Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader

Set after season three

Stiles sighed as he entered Beacon Hills High School. He had stayed up all night studying for a test that he was ninety percent sure he was going to fail. So Stiles was half asleep as he walked over to his locker where Scott was already there. Waiting for Stiles. But he was looking behind him. “Hey Scott” Stiles yawned as he opened his locker. “Hey Stiles,” Scott said, looking over at Stiles but still glancing over his shoulder. “Who are you looking at?” Stiles asked, looking over Scott’s shoulder. I'm not waiting for Scott to answer him. When Stiles eyes landed on who Scott was looking at, Stiles eyes widened, and he blushed.

He was looking at Y/n. You were new to Beacon Hills. Having moved in a few months ago and joining the high school student body a couple of weeks ago. Y/n was given the name as the ‘bad boy’ by the students. You were pretty tall and muscular despite not being on the lacrosse team. He also wore black leather jackets and jeans. Y/n was kind of a loner because almost everyone was scared of him. Stiles for him hot. Ever since Stiles first saw Y/n. He was in Stiles math class, so he saw you almost every day. “Why are you looking at him?” Stiles asked once he was done gawking at you and looking back at Scott. Who was  still looking at you.

Scott had been watching you ever since you came to the school. He’d watch you whenever he got the chance. His eyes squinted as he basically glared at you. “I don’t know,” Scott said as he started to walk to his first class. As not to be late. Stiles quickly shut his locker and ran to catch up to Scott. “I just get a bad feeling from him,” Scott said as he stopped right outside his classroom. “But he didnt’ do anything,” Stiles said as he stopped right in front of Scott. “I just get a bad feeling from him. Might be instincts. Scott said as he entered the classroom. Stiles couldn't really argue with that. Since Scott was a werewolf, he had some sixth sense to see if someone was evil.

But you hadn’t done anything. You were acting weird. You weren’t connected to any supernatural thing that was happening. Was that what Scott was talking about? Did he sense you were supernatural? Surely not. Stiles was about to ask Scott, but the bell rang, and the teacher entered that classroom. Guess Stiles would have to ask him later.

Scott sighed as he sat in his history class. It was about halfway through the day, and Scott wasn’t really listening to anything any of his teachers have said. He was too busy thinking about you. Scott could tell that you weren’t human, You didn’t smell right. Plus, when he used his wolf sight, he saw some weird red figure around you. It looked like a wild dog mixed with a cat or a fox. Scott couldn’t really tell. Plus, the figure had horns. Like demon horns. Scott could tell from when he was near you that you were powerful. More powerful than anything he and his pack had ever faced. But what were you planning? Nothing weird or supernatural had happened in a while. Were you waiting for the right time to attack.

Were you waiting for Scott to be alone? It was even worse since Stiles seemed to validate you. Scott could hear Stiles heartbeat increased whenever you were mentioned or when Stiles saw you. Did you put him under a spell? Could you do magic? Scott didn’t know. And that scared Scott. Scott knew you were dangerous. But he didn’t know why or how. So, for now, he had to keep his friends safe. Till he could figure out what you were and what you were planning. Maybe Scott could ask Deaton what you were. Or Derek. Someone. He needed to know. But for now, all he could do was wait. And keep an eye on you. 

“So why do you think Y/n is evil?” Stiles asked Scott during lunch. Stiles was eating his lunch as Scott just looked at you. You were actually eating your lunch. Or that’s what Scott thought. Your back was facing the two boys. “I think he’s supernatural,” Scott said as he looked back at Stiles. Leaning closer to the boy and whispering so nobody could overhear them. “So that makes him evil?” Stile asked. He was confused. Just because you were supernatural doesn't mean you were evil. You hadn’t even done anything. Now that made Scott confused. Any other time, Scott said he thought someone was supernatural. Stiles would be paranoid. But now he wasn’t. Scott wondered why Stiles seemed to defend you. 

Scott leaned closer to Stiles to tell Stiles that he thought you might be the most powerful thing they had ever faced. Stiles eyes widened as Scott leaned back down and turned his head to glare at you. Were you evil? Stiles didn’t think so. You hadn’t done or said anything to make anyone think you were evil. But Scott was the werewolf, and Stiles wasn’t. So maybe Scott was right. Stiles leaned his body so he could look at you. Though Scott had told him that you might be evil, Stiles couldn’t help himself from thinking that you were hot. Your hair, eyes, face, body. Everything. Stiles sighed as he went back to eating. 

Stiles ran out the doors of the school as the bell rang. But he stopped when he heard someone call out his name. Stiles turned around, and he blushed as he saw you walking over to him. “Hey Stilinski” you said once you were close enough. “Hey L/n” Stiles said as he tried to keep eye contact. But hell, your eyes were pretty. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?” You asked with a sly smile. Stiles blushed as he heard you and by that smile. Got you were hot. Stiles shook his head to remove his thought, but then quickly nodded. “YES!” Stiles yelled but was then embarrassed by how loud he yelled. You let out a little laugh at Stiles cuteness as you pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Call me cutie” you said with a wink as you walked away. 

Stiles looked down at the note and smiled. But Scott was scared. You see, Scott was waiting for Stiles in his jeep. And heard your entire conversation. What were you planning? Why did you want to go on a date with Stiles? Did you want to hurt Stiles? Maybe you wanted to hurt Scott by hurting Stiles? Scott was scared. Maybe he could convince Stiles not to go. Scott was staring into space as Stiles got into the driver's seat of the jeep and placed the note in his bag. “Did you hear!” Stiles yelled at Scott. Shocking him out of his thoughts. “I’m going on a date with the hottest guy at the school!” Stiles was excited. He was going on a date with you. Tonight. The note had a phone number and a time and place for your date.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Scott asked but continued talking before Stiles could answer him. “What if he is evil? What if he’s trying to kill you?” Stiles eyes widened as he realized how scared and paranoid Scott was. Scott and Stiles stayed silent after Scott was done talking. Scott took a breath in before he continued talking “I don’t know what Y/n is, and that scares me” Stiles nodded, telling Scott to continue. And Scott did “let me at least talk to Deaton before you go on a date with him” Stiles nodded as he started the car and started to drive to Scott’s house. Maybe Scott was right? But if Stiles doesn't go on a date now, he may never get the chance to again. Surely, going on one date isn’t bad, right?

How bad could you be? How dangerous could you be? Surely, you were just a werewolf, and Scott was paranoid. Right?

[buckybarnesss]

What are your thoughts on Cora?

cora hale was an underutilized character.

the concept of her is fantastic though and her impact on derek's character was not explored enough after her exit.

the potential and possibility of her character just teases me throughout season 3A.

of course a lot of this is because adelaide kane left due to landing the lead role for reign. and who can blame her for that? given colton, daniel and adelaide all went to the cw i imagine they paid better.

what remains thought is that cora hale is largely a question mark in the narrative of teen wolf.

how did she survive the fire? how did she end up in south america and with who? who exactly did she think was the hale alpha she heard rumors of? how did duecalion and company intercept her? why did the others not know her if she was their age?

in reality cora hale was in beacon hills for a few months as a prisoner and hostage than spent a few weeks with her uncle and brother before leaving. i would also like to know how she attended school considering it seems highly likely she was declared dead at age 11 in the fire.

i wish they'd answered some of those questions. i also wish they'd explored her and derek's relationship more. the guilt, the misplaced anger, the grief, anything about laura.

cora hale's survival is such a huge moment in derek's emotional arc too and we sadly see so little of it after she leaves. for such a short time she makes a huge impact.

i'd love to have explored more of her and peter too because what we saw in frayed and his concerned over her wellbeing when she was poisoned gave peter some needed depth.

cora also is the person to last mention laura hale by name in the narrative. in frayed to peter because you know he murdered laura.

i appreciated she had some animosity towards lydia mostly for being associated romantically with aiden due to his involvement in boyd's death. (why don't people ship her with boyd????)

i also did actually like her burgeoning friendship with stiles. her and him have their weird secret little club of having to endure peter's attempt of manipulation in visionary. they really seemed to vibe. she was going to help him explain the supernatural to his dad after knowing him for like five minutes. hales really love stiles.

it's sad fandom at large sees her (and somewhat rightfully) as erica's replacement and than malia's as hers.

jeff davis should've let her out of the subplot basement though. just because she wasn't physically there doesn't mean she couldn't be talked about.

i just know he has a notebook full of hale backstory. the fucker.

[teenwolffan6]

Sterek should have been endgame and Scott needed to be less of a dick.

I wish the writers would stop using Derek as the punching bag. Like I get he was an angry asshole at the start but can you blame him after all that he went through? He should have had a character growth arc and given the chance to be a better alpha instead of making him give it up. I get the symbolism of giving up the power but he should have gotten it back. And we should have seen more of his full shift than what we got. Like the Hales were special because of the full shift and we only see it once? Also he should have gotten his family land back, like it's been in his family for years and he's lost enough he shouldn't have let the county take his land that was fucked up. Even if he never rebuilt, he could have tore the remains down and put up a marker or a tree or something to show they were there and what happened. But to let it become new housing was just fucked up.

I would have like to see Derek and Scott be co-alphas and lead the pack together. They could have had a batman and superman friendship with one of them being broody and the other being hopeful and optimistic.

Stiles should have had magic. I know Dylan O'Brien said he didn't want Stiles to have magic and just be human but come on, he would have been badass at it.

I was never a big fan of Stiles and Lydia because it felt like he was more in love with the image he had of her than of her. Yes he got to know the real Lydia and they fell in love but I still didn't really like it. He was too obsessed with her it felt like he just wore her down or something idk. I know that Dylan said in an interview that Stiles and Lydia would have dated for a while but then realized they were better of as friends, and this was years before the movie came out.

And OMG the movie what the shit was that!?!?!? For all that Scott said he would be the alpha and defend Beacon Hill he left the town for years and still left at the end of the movie. Derek, Peter, Malia, and Jordan are really the only supernaturals left to defend the town. The Hales are the ones protecting their territory. And did they really have to kill Derek in the way they did it. Like fire really? REALLY!?!? And in front of his sixteen year old son. Derek lost his family at sixteen to a fire and now his son Eli loses his dad to a fire at sixteen? Really!?!? Like I hated it, I hated that the whole movie felt like Scott was just reliving his high school glory days. I hate that's Scott got his happy ending at the expense of Derek's life. Derek was good, he was happy with his son, had a home, a good business, was respect in the community, had a good relationship with the remainder of his family and you kill him off? And then hint at the fact that Scott would be the one to 'adopt' Eli, a kid he barely knew, just so that he and Allison could play house and be a happy little family? BULLSHIT!!!!

I read somewhere that Jeff wanted the show to end with Scott and Allison together and Stiles and Lydia together and that their kids would all be best friends. But with Crystal Reed leaving in season 3 that changed things. The movie felt like his way of getting that ending he wanted but Dylan not returning changed things again. But at least Scott got Allison back, so yay? Don't get me wrong I loved Scott and Allison together but Scott was so obsessed with her to the point that he would throw anyone but his mom under the bus for her. And it got annoying very fast even worse was the fact that he didn't really learn anything from it he has just as obsessed with Kira (though maybe not to the same level). The whole bros before hoes thing was non existent for him. I get Scott was supposed to be like a King Arthur kind of figure, you know? Special, good leader, kind, and legendary but Scott was not it. Yea he had his moments where he was really good but he had so many where he wasn't and he never seemed to learn and grow. Like even the BBC Merlin Arthur who started out as a jerk became honorable, just, and a good leader, yea he too had his moments where he regressed but it was still better than Scott.

They should have fixed his relationship with Derek maybe then him taking Eli in would have made more sense. Like Scott hated Derek a lot ,more so than necessary. Yes Derek lied to get Scott to help him take down the alpha (Peter) but Scott acted like Derek was he one who bit him. Scott forgave so many others who had done far worse (deucalion?) But Derek was where he drew the line? Why because he bit three others who chose the bite? I get him being mad about the lies, I get him being mad about Derek's attitude while on the alpha power trip but come on sometimes Scott was just a dick. He was willing to look the other way when Victoria tried to kill him and was ok with keeping quiet about why Derek bit Victoria and let Allison hate derek and attack his pack because he didn't want to cause problems with Allison. No he sucks. We could have had an epic friendship between them but no we got something half-assed and I hate it.

And why the hell did they make Derek basically a True Alpha like two seconds before he died like what the FUCK!?!?!?

I just wished the would have given Scott some character development instead of just making him more powerful.

[muskywolfthings]

Open House

((A quick drabble I've been working on the last few days- it's not much, but I LOVED writing it, and it's helped me get back into a little bit of a flow- hope you guys enjoy! No real smut ahead, but lots of fluffy daddy sterek feels))

Open Houses had always been a breeze for Stiles and Derek. Eli was a model student, even when he was taking after Stiles a little /too/ much- brain to mouth filter dwindling as he got older, and came into his personality more. Stiles usually steamrolled through most of their interactions, Derek a comforting presence over his shoulder agreeing with his husband’s stance on everything- even after all their years together, Stiles was still very much the center point in their household. A very loud, sometimes obnoxious, and sarcastic center, but he wouldn’t have been both his husband, and his son's anchor if he wasn’t good at his job. One of his jobs, that is. But Eli was starting High School in less than a week, and both Stiles and Derek were panicking. Just a bit. Derek more so than Stiles, which he blamed on Eli’s wolf becoming harder to control as he reached the more intense throes of puberty- but Stiles knew better. His husband was one big gigantic softie, and he couldn’t fathom that their baby boy was growing up. Much too fast for either of their likings.

High school was such a milestone! It was huge! It’s when Eli would start thinking about college, /really/ thinking about girls- “And guys! I take after my pops, equal opportunity all the way” Eli would boast with a grin- parties, experimenting in all aspects. His academic workload was going to double, given his advanced classes, more hectic schedule- juggling lacrosse in the fall, basketball in the spring, band and theater, Eli had a full plate.

Stiles always made it clear to him though, that while high school was a formative time in his life- it wasn’t where things ended. It was a blast, it was hard, sometimes he’d wish he never had to go back, and some days he’d wish he could create a time loop in freshman year and never escape it. But they were a pack, a family. Eli would have one of the best support systems for the entirety of his existence. Stiles and Derek weren’t just going to throw him to the metaphorical wolves once he graduated.

He was their baby. He would always be their baby, which came with certain ups and downs. One of the ups though, being he’d always have someone there to help him. Especially once he was out of high school, and things got scarier- more real. Which, Stiles thought at least, made Eli more excited, and less prone to fears of the future, as he stood in front of his fathers in front of the school- Stiles holding onto his arm with a smile, and Derek keeping one firm hand on Eli’s shoulder as they entered Beacon Hills High School.

And boy, what a nostalgia trip it was.

Stiles and Derek hadn’t stepped foot in those halls since before Eli was born- and it wasn’t lost on either of them how bittersweet it was to do so.

“Please don’t cry dad,” Eli whined, glancing over his shoulder at Stiles, who sniffled once, before squaring his shoulders and nodding stiffly. Derek chuffing a laugh under his breath, and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Stiles’ neck. “Leave your father alone, he’s reminiscing about the day’s he used to be shoved into these lockers.” Derek teased, smiling brightly as Stiles balked, and tried to slap him over his shoulder- Derek catching his hand easily, and kissing along each knuckle. A warm blush took over Stiles’ cheeks as he did so, and Eli gagged.

“You’re gonna give these kids reason to ridicule me for literally the rest of my life,” Eli sighed, miming shooting himself square between the eyes- Derek rolling his eyes at his sons dramatics, even as Stiles reached forward to pinch his cheeks and coo at the boy- just as a group of girls breezed past, giggling to themselves as Eli fought his father back, horrified.

There was a brief assembly in the gym, where each teacher introduced themselves in front of the room full of students and their guardians- their names, their subject, and the grades they taught. The students were free to accompany their parents to meet each of their teachers, but they were encouraged to mingle, and hang out in the gymnasium, and out on the lacrosse field where there were concessions set up, while the teachers and guardians mingled about the school.

As soon as they were dismissed to go about the rest of the evening, Eli booked it outside- assuring his dads he’d stay out of trouble, and introduce himself to his teachers before the evening ended. Which left Stiles and Derek, Eli’s schedule in hand, to start their own rounds.

Given Eli’s regular course load, and extracurriculars, it meant they couldn’t linger too long in what classroom. Their son being a social butterfly was quite draining. Now Stiles knew how his dad felt- though he supposed in some respects this was better: at least meeting Eli’s coach wasn’t moot, he wouldn’t be a benchwarmer like Stiles. Thank god.

The first two teachers they met were a breeze- Stiles did most of the talking, Derek humming his approval of teaching plans, and nodding where he saw fit. Derek had never been very verbose, even as a teenager, and it was moments like these he appreciated his husbands ability to pull words seemingly out of his ass.

It wasn’t till they met with the band instructor- a man in his mid twenties, that Derek became even more quiet. His arm found its way around Stiles’ shoulder, as he went on about how badly he wanted to play the trumpet as a child- laughing openly, unaware of the other man’s gaze sliding over his body. Right. In front. Of Derek.

Derek wouldn’t necessarily call himself possessive (Stiles would, Stiles absolutely would) and don’t get him wrong! His husband's charm and physical attraction wasn’t lost on him in the slightest.

But that’s the thing. It was /his/ He belonged to Derek.

Kind of.

Not in a property sort of way! But like…sort of.

Derek also knew there wasn’t much he could do about it- he could scent and sense things about people that he wasn’t technically supposed to. His face twisted up in slight disgust at the wave of arousal that poured off of the man in front of them- a cloud of it cloaking itself over he and Stiles the longer they chatted.

Derek was quick to grumble about how they needed to keep it moving, and he corralled Stiles out of the band hall and towards their next class- all too aware suddenly of all the looks they were getting.

Derek was never blind to his own physical appearance, but almost none of the attention pointing their direction, was pointed towards himself. Sure, the occasional couple would take them both in appreciatively- but as soon as Stiles opened his mouth, everyone’s eyes gravitated towards him. He was warm, and kind- handsome, and loved his husband and son. Derek supposed that was reason enough to drop everyone’s panties.

Derek got increasingly more handsy as the night wore on, and by the time they were making their way to coach Finstock’s office for a quick hello- Derek couldn’t take it anymore.

“Where are we going?” Stiles asked quietly, rubbing his thumb over Derek’s knuckles where they held hands- Derek skirting them through the halls of parents and students- ducking into an empty classroom before they could be seen, and pressing Stiles up against the door. Mouth immediately on his pulse point, hands finding their way up and under his sweater.

“Derek!” Stiles hissed, glancing over his shoulder, into the almost empty hallway outside though the small window at the top of the door- biting his lip as Derek growled against his throat- hot tongue sliding across his throat, before Derek bit down gently, positively purring as Stiles gasped- the spicy scent of his mates arousal cloaking Derek entirely- filling the small classroom completely with their combined scents.

Derek fucking loved it.

“This is so not professional, Eli’s gonna know what we were doing! Do you want to scar our child, Der?” Stiles pouted- though one of his hands was already in Derek’s jeans- cupping his ass, while his other tugged at the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck gently- scratching just where he knew his wolf loved. If Derek had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Derek assured him quietly, nibbling just below Stiles’ ear, sucking a light red mark there for good measure after. “-I just needed to get my hands on you. And my mouth..and my-” “Yes! Yes that’s very clear, you dick,” Stiles interrupted quickly, grinding up and against Derek softly- mouth falling open on a quiet gasp at how hard Derek was. What was even happening.

“Remember when we used to sneak in here?” Derek prompted quietly, voice deep, and husky- dripping with so much lust he was threatening to drown Stiles in it. “You’ve been such a bad boy, Mr Stilinski,” Derek purred, Stiles’ mind thrust back to when he was nineteen, and a lot more willing to risk public indecency charges- Derek bending him over desks, benches in the locker room- even tables in the cafeteria, after hours when they’d snuck in. It was so bad, so wrong, but so, so, hot.

“I love you so much.” Stiles laughed, kissing down Derek’s cheek, and sliding one of his palms along the hot ;length of his husband's cock through his jeans. “As much as I want to swallow your cock, right here, in this classroom,” Stiles began, rubbing circles in the fat heft of Derek’s balls through the denim, “-we need to go see Finstock, and then make sure Eli talked to his teachers. Then maybe see if he still wants to spend the night at Jake’s.” Derek nodded stiffly, and while he was no young man anymore, not really, he was so close to cumming in his jeans it wasn’t even funny.

Fuck. “I love you too,” Derek breathed, nosing along Stiles hairline, before snapping his fangs at the man playfully- practically beaming when Stiles laughed- loud and happy, music to Derek’s ears, as they composed themselves enough to head back out into the school. Hands interlocked, a promise of a wild evening hanging between the two of them.

[teenwolfmarvel-obsessor]

Mastermind

Full Masterlist | Teen Wolf Masterlist

Summary: You've become a mastermind in making excuses to be with Stiles, unaware to you, Stiles was doing the same thing. Neither one of you knew this. You've liked him since middle school and have kept those feelings until now. When at an impromptu party, you wish some part of you was prepared for Stiles Stilinski to express his feelings.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Warnings: None

Stiles Stilinski x-reader

(Last Day of Eighth Grade - Three Years Ago. Third-Person View)

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates And all the stars aligned You and I ended up in the same room At the same time

Y/N Y/L/N yawned and leaned her head against her best friend's, Stiles Stilinski's, shoulder. Stiles glanced down at her and couldn't help but smile. The world didn't know how he felt about her, well, Scott and Stiles' father knew, but nobody else. Though, everyone saw how Y/N and Stiles looked at each other.

Generally, people thought that kids in middle school didn't know what love meant. Even though they were fourteen years old, they knew the definition of love. And Scott McCall sure as hell knew that his two friends were madly in love.

He hoped they would realize that over the summer before high school. Stiles always thought how stupid of him it was to always make excuses to be with Y/N. He often wondered how obvious he was, but he was reassured by his dad that it wasn't obvious.

Given that it was the last day of eighth grade, Beacon Hills Middle was putting on its last assembly for its eighth-grade class. This included games involving different students and teachers, and a few raffles that gave away some gift cards and free books.

Y/N had no interest in winning those prizes. All she wanted was to go home and swim in her pool. That's all that clouded her brain, apart from the feeling of Stiles' hand on hers. She couldn't deny how she felt about him.

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse Of a chain reaction of countermoves To assess the equation of you Checkmate, I couldn't lose

She also couldn't deny that every little thing was meant to be with him. Like offering to study for tests, asking to hang out when her parents were out of town, inviting him to any of Lydia's get-togethers, or asking if he wanted to be lab or project partners. Those things were common between Y/N and Stiles. If Y/N hadn't suggested anything, Stiles was the next.

"I swear if Principle Mike says the words 'congratulations eighth graders' one more time, I'm gonna throw up," Stiles commented. Y/N laughed. She was glad that everyone else was talking so they couldn't hear her loud laugh. "It almost makes me not want to start high school," Scott added.

Stiles and Y/N nodded in agreement. Y/N let go of Stiles' hand to fix her backpack, getting tired of the straps rubbing against her legs. Lydia told her to wear a skirt so the two of them could match. Thankfully, Lydia held up to her offer, but Y/N was beginning to regret her choice.

Although, she did love the floral patterns on the pockets. Principal Mike and two other staff members walked onto the stage. "Good afternoon, eighth graders," the principal said. "Here we go," Stiles muttered to Y/N. She held her giggle, hoping it wouldn't escape. "And, congratulations," the principal continued.

Stiles gasped quietly at the sound of no 'eighth graders' at the end of the man's statement. Principal Mike went on to state how he was proud of them and wished them nothing but luck. The games continued and the raffle began. Mrs. Wright stuck her hand into the bucket. "Y/N Y/L/N," she read from the yellow sticky note.

Y/N's head perked up from Stiles' shoulder. The students around her turned to look at her. Y/N didn't put her name in, but you know who did, Scott McCall. She whipped her head to Scott and shot him a glare. With no choice, she stood up from the bleachers and walked down the stairs.

She had won a book series she didn't really want to read. The teacher congratulated Y/N and handed her the books. Y/N thanked her and went back to her seat. She sat down in the middle of Scott and Stiles. "I hate you so much," Y/N said to Scott. He jumped when Y/N whacked him in the back of the head.

What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork and then Just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line

The assembly finished with the school band playing a few traditional songs. Y/N waved to Danny who was playing the drums. He smiled at her. Y/N and her friends walked out to meet their parents at the front of the school. Mrs. Y/L/N was chatting with Mr. Stilinski and Mrs. McCall. The students each let their friends sign their yearbooks before finding their parents.

Y/N smiled as her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Mrs. Y/L/N lightly kissed the top of Y/N's head, ruffling her hair after. "You ready to go?" Melissa McCall said to Scott, taking her lab coat off. She tossed it into the backseat and opened the door. "We'll see you boys in a bit," Y/N's mother said, referring to the pool party Y/N was throwing for a few of her close friends.

Y/N said goodbye to the boys and stepped into the car. Mrs. Y/L/N kept questioning her daughter on how the last day of school was. To which Y/N continued to say it wasn't all that interesting. Y/N's mind kept going to the pool party where she planned to tell Stiles how she felt. But the real question was, would that actually happen? Or was it just an act of more procrastination?

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all by dеsign 'Cause I'm a mastermind

______

(11th Grade. Y/N's Point of View. Outfit One)

"Seriously, Y/N? You can't keep doing this to yourself," Lydia said, covering her lips in a heavy peach color. I rolled my eyes and tossed Lydia's stuffed Giraffe up in the air before catching it. She set the lipstick onto the vanity. "I'm not doing anything wrong," I sat up from her bed, "In fact, I'm innocently saving my friendship with Stiles."

Lydia's brows rose in an annoyed tone. She sighed and shook her head at my comment. She reached out a hand, taking the stuffed animal out of my hands. "It truly is terrifying watching the two of you wait for something to happen, but nothing is going to," she says. Lydia disregards my expression and continued to speak.

"I'm serious, Y/N/N. You really need to say something because you've kept this up for four years. Doesn't it get exhausting?"

I shrugged. She wasn't entirely wrong. It did hurt when Stiles went on dates with other girls or talked to other girls. I never knew that it also hurt Stiles when he saw me go on dates or talk to other guys. Lydia watched as I thought to myself. "Do you like Stiles? I mean more than just a best friend," she said with her hands on her hips. I nodded.

"Then you should tell him," she added. I shook my head in disagreement. "Nope. I'll just continue what I'm doing. Spare my feelings and his," I stood up from the bed.

You see, all the wisеst women Had to do it this way 'Cause we were born to be the pawn In every lover's game

Lydia groaned in frustration. She pulled her hair away from her face, turning in the chair to look at me. "C'mon, Y/N. You are not in eighth grade anymore," Lydia waved her arms around, "You are sixteen years old, not some fourteen-year-old who doesn't know the difference between making out and having sex."

My face scrunched at her statement. She waved her hand, saying to ignore that last bit. Lydia stood up and walked over to me. "My point is," Lydia held my shoulders, "I can't keep seeing those minuscule facial expressions shift when Stiles talks to any girl besides you. If you don't tell him, then it's just gonna keep growing inside of you until you're both murdered. And your murderer would be me by the way."

She wrapped me in a hug before we needed to leave. "Now, c'mon. We've got that party to attend," she sang. Lydia grabbed her purse from the chair, waltzing over to the door. I glanced at myself in the mirror. I pulled at the hem of the short dress, trying to keep it from staying at my knees but it bounced back.

My friend yanked my hand, tearing my focus away from myself. The next thing I knew, we hopped into her car and drove to Tina's house for the party.

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail The strategy sets the scene for the tale I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails And the liquor in our cocktails

When Lydia pulled up to the large house, partygoers filed in and out of the house. Some of them were already drunk, which was surprising because the party started ten minutes ago. Lydia gestured to our friends on the porch.

The two of us got out of her convertible. "Stop pulling on your dress," she slapped my hand. "I hate this," I commented. "What? You haven't mentioned it at all," Lydia stated sarcastically.

She ignored my look, yet again. She bee-lined to Aiden, who was waiting for her patiently. "Cute dress," Allison complimented and lifted up the lace strap. "Thanks," I said. She noticed my expression and dropped her hand to her side. "Lydia made you wear it, didn't she?" Allison said. "How'd you know?" I replied, earning a laugh from her.

Allison told me that Scott and Stiles were arriving a little late, as expected. Isaac was inside getting some drinks for the two of us. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I just got you some Strawberry Lemonade," Isaac said, handing me the cup. I thanked him and took a sip, but was taken aback by the strong taste of Vodka.

"Probably should've asked Tina before grabbing it," he gritted his teeth. I chuckled at his immediate reaction. "It's fine," I coughed, wiping my mouth. A few minutes passed, and Stiles and Scott pulled up in the blue Jeep. I waved them over, quickly adjusting the length of the dress when I raised my arm.

Now that the two boys were here, we walked into Tina's house. It felt like every room was filled with people. Stiles grabbed my hand, leading me to the backyard where everyone else was. He let go when we made it to the tables with a few platters of food. "What do you want?" Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder at me. I looked at the long table, tapping my chin in thought.

I caught sight of my favorite food. Stiles followed my line of sight. He set some of it on a paper plate for me. "Thank you," I said, grabbing a fork and napkin. He grabbed his food and we found a place to sit at a table that wasn't so crowded.

What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me I knew I wanted your body I laid the groundwork and then

Stiles held my plate as I sat on the bench. He handed it to me, sitting down beside me. I looked around at the people that danced. Scott and Kira were dancing with a drink in each hand. I chuckled when Kira tripped on Scott's shoes, almost spilling the drink on herself. Stiles tucked a strand of hair behind my ear so it wouldn't fall into my food.

Just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all my design 'Cause I'm a mastermind

I looked up at him, his brown eyes already on mine. "I don't think I've seen you in a dress like this since eighth grade," he commented, lowering his hand from the side of my face. I playfully rolled my eyes, bringing my focus back to my chips. He smirked to himself. "Well, you can thank Lydia for that because I am her personal guinea pig," I said.

My best friend laughed at the comparison. He'd joke about how Lydia liked to test out different hairstyles or clothes. Stiles liked to say that it was because Lydia was the only child. "She had me try on these red stilettos last weekend, and I swear I almost cracked my skull open," I explained, popping a chip in my mouth. Stiles' brows furrowed when I mentioned the style of shoe.

"You have no idea what a stiletto is, do you?" I took a sip of the spiked Lemonade. He shook his head, holding up his cup. I laughed and decided not to explain it because he'd be more confused. "All you need to know is that they're uncomfortable as hell," I said. "Duly noted," Stiles said, "I will never wear them then."

It fell quiet between me and Stiles with us just watching people and eating some snacks here and there. "Can I ask you something?" Stiles spoke. "Sure," I set the plate beside me, wiping my hands with a napkin. "Do you ever think about someone a little more than you should?" Stiles stated.

I said his question to myself, trying to think of some response that wouldn't spark anything about my feelings. He nudged my shoulder when I didn't respond right away. "Yeah. I do," I nodded. Stiles looked away from the grass at the sound of my reply.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since To make them love me and make it seem effortless This is the first time I've felt the need to confess And I swear I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'Cause I care

"I think about him a lot," I said. If I don't do it now, I won't ever, just like Lydia had said. Stiles nodded, now playing with a loose thread on his jacket. "You know, it's funny," Stiles sighed, "Since middle school, I've noticed that I never seem to stop making so many damn excuses to sit close with her or hang out with her. Hell, we're best friends so I just thought that it was me just wanting to be with my best friend."

Stiles smiled to himself as he spoke. He seemed to try not to make direct eye contact with me. Stiles looked at the ground or everyone else but me. "But, when I look at her, I think about how she'll be with someone else and that someone else won't be me. But, when I do look at her, I think that 'that someone else' could be me if I just grew the confidence and confessed," Stiles said.

I set a hand on top of his, noticing that he was starting to play with his fingers. He'd fiddle when he started to get nervous or go on some random tangent. Stiles' eyes drew away from the fixed spot. "Well, you only have one life," I said. He looked down at me (GIF Above). I sat up on the upper part of the picnic bench, brushing my hands on my legs.

"Yeah," he sighed, "Sometimes I'm not using my one life very usefully."

"Agreed," I nodded.

He chuckled, biting his lower lip as he laughed. I noticed his demeanor slightly change. Stiles mumbled to himself before letting out a heavy sigh. "Y/N," he said. I looked at him, letting Stiles know that I was listening. "You know those little moments we have other than our normal moments," he said. I nodded. "Those little moments weren't also impromptu," Stiles claimed.

I sat up in my spot. Stiles ran a hand through his hair in thought. "Those weren't all coincidences," Stiles said, "That one time I said we should be lab partners in eighth grade, I had been thinking about asking you for a straight year. And, then, after that, every little thing has been planned to hang out with you more. I get that we're best friends, but I wish we were more than that."

Stiles waited for my response but decided to continue speaking to further his point. "I also know that you've been doing the same thing," he said, smiling at me. My face turned a bright red when he spoke.

So I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork and then Saw a wide smirk on your face You knew the entire time

"You knew," I said. "I knew the entire time," Stiles claimed, "Well, the entire time, meaning since ninth grade." He saw my eyes narrow as I thought, how in the hell could he have found out? "Lydia told me," Stiles answered. "Of course, she did," I rolled my eyes. Stiles said that she told him when they were waiting for me after track practice.

"Oh my gosh," I said, softly laughing when I spoke. "I know," he huffed, "but I gotta admit, it was kinda cute watching you do everything." He waved his hand around. He listed a few things that he found amusing. "Oh, shut up," I hit his shoulder. Stiles looked at me with a different hint in his eyes.

He reached a hand out, setting it on the side of my face. I leaned into his touch. Stiles leaned forward and kissed me. I was glad Lydia wasn't in the backyard because I already knew that she'd be freaking out.

You knew that I'm a mastermind And now you're mine Yeah, all you did was smile 'Cause I'm a mastermind

[elisastales]

Is it me or the changes a person goes through when becoming a chimera aren't that much talked about?

Cause with Lukas, according to Corey, he was all shy and reserved, he was the one wanting to slow down their relationship, and after the change he goes on all confident and eager to make out with him, later, something similar happens to Corey, from being kinda shy he becomes more direct and proactive. This changes aren't bad per se.

Hayden talks about feeling off, like something's wrong all the time, I don't really see a change in her personality.

But then there's Tracy, I didn't picked up any hints to her being evil or at least bad at any point, any hint to her father being shady towards her in any way, and then she slaughters him, of course she was in some trance-like mental state, but after that, when Theo brings her back, she's different, she knows what she did and doesn't regret it, she even jokes about it once. But she's definitely different, I guess the kanima part makes her as loyal as she is, given that the kanima seeks a master, in this case, Theo.

But the extreme changes she goes through...could we apply that to Theo? The show already hints to Theo lacking empathy, hence the blank face as watching Tara die, but also some lack of self-presservation instincts, cause his face is blank when he's being cut open, what child, even an evil one, isn't even a little bit scared not only knowing, but watching his own body being cut open?  most likely without anesthesia, and he seems fine, as a young adult he kind of does the same, not minding being beat up, like he doesn’t feel that much if he choses not to, the only time I remind him feeling pain and complaining before hell, is when Deucalion breaks his arm, but that was by surprise. 

Maybe he didn't even cared or felt for himself and the change enhanced it?  seems like a severly repressed child, but I don't see this kind of person being friends with someone like Scott and Stiles, even as kids. What new traits the change brought to Theo? which parts of the Theo we know have always been there and which ones were brought with the change?

I need theories, I need ANSWERS

I wish the show had given more insight to Theo’s life pre Dread Doctors   

[elisela]

January OTP Prompts:

Old bookstore on a cold day for Sterek

Happy New Year! 🤍

mountain man sterek, bookshop au, fluff

“Mountain man is here,” Scott whispers in his ear, hands gripping Stiles’ shoulders as he carefully moves behind him in the narrow space. “Biographies.”

Stiles nods and glances around the small cafe space. The tables are occupied, but no one looks like they’re about to need a second cup, so he feels free to announce, “Just going to go get a new bag from the back,” to Kira, despite having just done that no more than thirty minutes ago.

But Scott must have also said something to Kira because she just nods with a grin, and Stiles leaves the counter before fate can intervene. And if he can just see into the history section from the very edge of the double doors that lead into their dismal excuse for a kitchen, that’s no one’s business but his own.

He stays there until Mountain Man leaves the shop.

---

Mountain Man is an enigma. Stiles had been certain, the first time he’d walked up to his counter, that he was going to be gruff and rude, like the assholes from the bank across the street that treat the small space like their personal conference room and bark out orders without any regard to the fact an actual person was taking them. But his eyes—which are so beautiful that Stiles wrote four atrocious poems about them in his Intro to Poetry class—had been kind, and when he’d given his order he’d said please twice, and Stiles had fallen head over heels.

In fact, the majority of Stiles’ assumptions about him have been proven incorrect, so he supposes that out of the two of them, he’s likely the rude one. He’d figured Mountain Man was there for the coffee, only to be surprised when he caught a glimpse of the man at the registers an hour later with a stack of books in his hands. His assumption that he was only getting the latest quickly read and easily digestible thrillers was shown to be wrong when Kira spotted him buying classics the next month, and then Stiles stopped assuming anything about him at all.

Except, of course, for the fact that he lives up in the mountains that surround their small little college town (the boots and beard give that away), works with his hands for a living (always calloused), is somewhere in his late thirties (laugh lines around his eyes, silver beginning to streak through his beard) and has no significant other—though that last one might just be wishful thinking.

----

“Stiles, could you go see if Allison can trade us for some ones?” 

He takes the twenty dollar bill from Kira and steps out from behind the counter. The store’s been dead all day, he’s pretty sure there are still a stack of ones sitting in the register. “You’re not fooling me,” he says, and she grins back at him.

“Who said I was trying to?”

Allison’s up at the front register, leaning her elbows on the counter and texting, phone in front of her face. It’s an act that would get the rest of them written up, but Allison’s clearly fine with taking advantage of the fact that her parents own the store and Stiles can’t really fault her for that. If his dad were running it he’d probably delight in kicking people out the moment they asked if someone could help them find a book with a yellow cover.

And in front of Allison, browsing the small section of puzzle books and journals, is Mountain Man.

“Hey hey, boss lady,” he says. There’s no way to angle himself to keep Mountain Man in view, but if he bends over enough he can sort of see his reflection in the poster-covered glass windows.

She sets her phone down and grins at him, snatching the bill out of his hand. “Hello yourself, coffee boy. No token of your appreciation this time?”

“Kira’s making it as we speak,” he says, and she shakes her head when he uses his in-store radio to quietly order it. “But if you could be so kind in the meantime—”

“You’re such a dork,” she says fondly, pushing a stack of dollar bills into his hand. “Go get my coffee, I’m practically asleep up here. I told Dad no one would come in today, there’s three feet of snow on the ground.”

“Maybe someone could convince him to close early,” he says, walking backwards out of the section. His gaze strays to Mountain Man and when their eyes meet, his heart starts beating double-time. He glances down at the books in his hands—a few that Stiles recognizes from the YA section, even more from the display of queer novels that Allison had set up for Valentine’s day. “Good selection,” he says, “Red, White, and Royal Blue was good,” and spins around in his haste to get back to the cafe.

Kira’s holding a cup in her hand, but pulls it back towards her when he flings himself over the counter. “What?”

He needs water. Or to plunge himself into a snowbank to cool his overheated face. “Please remind me that straight guys read gay love stories too so I don’t go do something reckless.”

“That hasn’t been my experience at all,” Kira says cheerfully, pushing him upright and handing the cup over. “Go get his name, at least.”

Mountain Man is gone by the time Stiles gets back up there. 

---

He stashed his marker somewhere. He knows he did, he always has it to write the orders on the cups, and most of the time he puts it back in his apron pocket—except when his pockets are full of the bags of espresso beans he was supposed to restock before the swarm of banker bros took over the place. He’d taken their orders, empties his pockets, and then promptly spent the last five minutes looking for his marker, which seems to have grown legs and walked off on its own.

A throat clears above him when he’s crouched down checking the overflow shelves under the register for the third time unsuccessfully, and admitting defeat, he straightens up.

Mountain Man is in front of him. 

“Hey,” he says, instead of welcome to Argent Books like he’s supposed to. “Whatcha havin’?”

“Medium vanilla latte, oatmilk, please,” Mountain Man says. He hands over cash, much to Stiles’ continuing dismay, because it would so much easier to get his name from a card, but doesn’t leave when Stiles calls the order to Kira and slides a cup along the counter. He just stands there, look of discomfort on his face, until he says, “Did you really like that book?”

Stiles raises an eyebrow.

“The, uh—Red, White, and Royal Blue,” Mountain Man says. “Did you really like it?”

“Yeah,” he says, and then, “well, no, it’s not really my thing, but everyone else liked it. I haven’t actually read it, I started the first chapter but I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of coming of age story and the romance—maybe if it were like, a gay detective novel, that shit would be cool. Or sci-fi—have you read This is How You Lose the Time War? That was good.”

He’s about ready to fling himself into the dumpster out back when Kira appears at his side, handing the cup over with a grin and Mountain Man, clearly sensing an opportunity to get away from Stiles, thanks them and walks away.

“Why don’t you go take inventory in the back until you don’t look like a tomato,” Kira says kindly, patting his flaming cheek, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

The afternoon picks up and although Stiles doesn’t forget about the awkward encounter, he at least puts it out of his mind—until his phone buzzes in his apron pocket and he picks it up, expecting a text from Scott or his Dad, and promptly drops it straight onto the floor.

“Oh,” Kira says, peering around his shoulder at the picture of This is How You Lose the Time War laying on a couch, folded flannel blanket underneath. “Did I tell you I gave Mountain Man your number? I wrote it on the cup—you were never going to get around to it!” she says, whacking his arm. “And I’ll take your gratitude any day now, he’s clearly interested in talking to you, though sometimes I can’t imagine why.”

He only spends a minute hyperventilating before leaving the cafe area, snatching a familiar pink book off a display table, and taking a picture in return. Thought I’d give this another try, he writes under it, and follows it up with maybe we could meet up for coffee and talk about them.

He presses send before he can think about it, and breaks into a grin when the reply comes back quickly.

I’d like that.

He’ll worry about getting Mountain Man’s name some other time. 

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @thetommoway-oioii!

I hope you enjoy this. Here is all the fluff and cuteness for you with most of the tropes you requested. 

*****

Tis the Season to be Merry (and to be Married)

The words came to Derek on a Monday morning about a month before Christmas.

He was in the kitchen that afternoon cooking dinner for… well, a crowd, basically. He and Stiles might have moved into their own house sometime earlier this year in a bid for privacy, but there never seemed to be a shortage of people suddenly popping in and out of their lives, especially to eat them out of house and home, and most especially during the holiday season.

Sometimes it was Derek’s parents, Desmond and Talia Hale, who had retired from handling the family businesses and the Hale Foundation, and were spending most of their free time either traveling or meddling in their children’s lives. Derek’s siblings also made frequent appearances, all six of them—Matthew, Valerie, Laura, Cora, Cameron, and Nathaniel—and each one bringing about their own brand of mayhem, chaos, and pandemonium.

And then there was Peter, Derek’s uncle, but the less said about him, the better. Derek was still wishing the man was too busy to make an appearance at the Christmas table this year.

Though it wasn’t like Stiles’s side of the family was any better. He only had his father, retired Sheriff John Stilinski, as immediate family—and Derek could already feel the headache at the two’s constant arguments about John’s love for meat and Stiles’s insistence on a diet—but Stiles made up for it with a found family numbering in… well, far too many.

There were his best friends, Scott and Lydia, with their own partners, sweet, gun-toting Allison and douchebag Jackson. Then there was their collection of friends like Erica who could castrate a man with her nails, tall and dark and silent Boyd, Kira who could wield a katana while wearing a skirt, Isaac who wore far too many scarves at any given day, and his boyfriend Danny who had blackmail material on everybody.

Derek paused in his cooking. They had too many people in their damn lives and in their damn business. He and Stiles should consider moving to, like, New Zealand or something. They both loved Lord of the Rings. They could probably go and live in a hobbit hole or something.

Though God knows their families and friends would still find a way to follow and pester them.

Derek resumed his cooking, putting the finishing touches on the chicken and the salad and checking that the brownies were baking perfectly. He passed by the refrigerator, pausing at the knick knacks that littered the surface.

Pride of place was his and Stiles’s photo from four years ago during their second year anniversary. They hadn’t been able to celebrate properly because Stiles had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital and Derek had been bogged down by paperwork from the university where he taught. Because of the late hour, all they could do was a fast food drive thru and then eat in the car. Stiles had taken a selfie photo of them.

They looked like crap, honestly—both of them obviously tired and worn, Derek’s tie was crooked and he had crumbs all over his shirt and Stiles was still in scrubs and had ketchup on his chin. But they were happy and in love.

Derek stroked the photo.

“I want to marry you,” he murmured, the words flowing from him like an exhale.

The words weren’t surprising and not even unexpected, not after ten years—two years of being annoyed by each other, two years of being friends, and six years of being together, one of which was spent here in the house they bought together.

Derek glanced out the window. It was a winter wonderland outside, interspersed with blinking lights from the neighbors’ Christmas decorations and the snowmen that littered the yards.

What was surprising was the urgency that came to him.

It was a cliche thought though, especially on Christmas, but maybe the festive season was getting to him, wanting him to find more reasons to celebrate.

Derek thought about Stiles as he cooked, thankful for the long vacation from teaching at the university that he could do this for his partner, especially since Stiles had pulled the short end of the stick when it came to shifts at the hospital this Christmas.

Derek thought about Stiles’s impish smile and his pretty eyes, thought about his voice, rich and soft, and about something funny he had said the other day—he said a lot of funny things all the time. He thought about taking lunch to the hospital a few days ago, only to have Stiles pull him into his office for a rather lengthy ‘thank you’ kiss and then complain about the amount of work he had to do as they ate together. (It was a lie. Stiles loved being a doctor, even if he had ended up being on duty on Christmas Day.)

Derek thought about Stiles’s dry wit and his sarcastic quips, how he played around with his Dad and his friends, how he adored Derek’s family, even though Derek’s siblings were insane. He thought about how soft he was during their quiet moments, how he curled into Derek’s touch and indulged in lazy sex and slow, lengthy kisses.

“I want to marry him,” Derek murmured the words to himself quietly.

It wasn’t so much that he and Stiles hadn’t considered marriage, but it hadn’t been a priority over the years, what with everything going on with their lives and families—Valerie’s son being born, John’s retirement, Scott and Allison’s wedding, Lydia and Jackson’s engagement, Stiles getting promoted, then that following year Derek had an accident and broke his arm…

Everyone knew he and Stiles were in this for the long haul. They obviously loved each other, annoyed each other, felt at home with each other, and they had plans and promises for the future and had started living together. 

A formal arrangement just hadn’t been in the cards yet.

Derek heard a car horn and looked out the window to see Stiles’s jeep pulling into the garage. However, he highly doubted that they were not getting any other visitors that night. He finished the preparations just as the key was turning in the lock and Stiles’s voice immediately flowed into the once-quiet home.

“I’m home!” he called out, loudly and cheerfully. “And advance warning, we’re getting a bunch of strays tonight.”

Derek snorted. “That’s not new.”

There was the sound of shuffling and keys, and then muffled footsteps as Stiles moved further into the house. Derek was scooping servings into a large bowl when Stiles plastered himself to Derek’s back, arms snaking gently around his waist and pointy chin popping itself on his shoulder.

“You’re cold,” Derek said, not even fighting the smile that appeared on his face.

Stiles, just to be a jerk, slid his cold hands under Derek’s sweater. “Lydia, Nathaniel, Erica, and Boyd are all dropping by; and Mattie, too, which means he’s also bringing his baby girl, CC. They’ll be here in about an hour.”

Derek sighed. “All I wanted was a peaceful dinner.”

“When, in all our lives, have we ever had peace?” Stiles chuckled, kissing his cheek. “That smells good.”

“It’ll taste even better once you get comfortable and get changed,” Derek said, turning around to face him.

Stiles was smiling, and Derek had seen it a thousand times, but it was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His pale skin was a little red from the cold, especially his nose, cheeks, and ears, his brown hair was falling messily across his forehead, and his eyes were bright and warm as they looked at Derek.

“No welcome home kisses?” he asked, those pretty lips pouting.

Derek chuckled and obliged. “Welcome home.”

They kissed for a few moments, long and slow and sweet, before Derek rubbed Stiles’s back.

“Go and get changed. In an hour, we’ll get your strays bothering us.”

Stiles let out a squawk of offense. “Hey! How come when they’re bothering us they’re mine?”

“Because you make just as big a mess as they do,” Derek said, pinching his hip.

Stiles cackled, dancing away. “But you already picked me, so you have to put up with it. No take backsies.”

He let out a raspberry, which was really unbecoming of his age, especially a doctor, and then laughed loudly as he ran off.

‘I want to marry you,’ Derek thought, smiling at his retreating back.

A formal arrangement just hadn’t been in the cards.

But maybe it should be.

The words came to Derek again and again over the next few days. 

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, when Stiles was smiling at him, talking animatedly, his hands flying as he talked about his cases at the hospital.

‘I want to marry you,’  he thought, as they were getting groceries, with Derek’s siblings, twins Cora and Cameron in tow, all of them getting more sweets and chocolates than what the grocery list indicated.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, as Stiles ran past him screaming, followed by Isaac, Kira, and Derek’s nephews as they engaged in a snowball fight. Laura was screaming in the background that she’d punch whoever gets snow in her newly-dyed hair, only to get pelted by snowballs from all directions.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, a flutter in his heart, as they walked around the Christmas bazaar one afternoon, ungloved hands tucked into Derek’s pocket as they looked for kitschy Christmas gifts for their friends. Stiles beamed at him, bright and carefree, his nose pink from the wind, and Derek tugged him close and kissed him right in the middle of the market. Stiles didn’t seem to protest, going by the enthusiastic way he responded.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, holding a sobbing Stiles close after delivering the bad news to a couple that their child hadn’t pulled through during the surgery. He stroked Stiles’ hair, his back, his cheeks, and held him tighter, even tighter. 

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, panting and aroused and flushed as they showered together, pressed intimately from head to toe with Stiles kissing his neck.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought as he watched Stiles conversing with their parents, Talia and Desmond and John, talking about where they could go for next year’s family vacation—Stiles and Desmond were both pushing for Disneyland, for the hundredth time, as they liked collecting Mickey ears. John wanted somewhere with cows, for some reason.

“I want to marry Stiles,” Derek said, the words coming out of him, unbidden and sudden in the middle of dinner with their parents at the Hale Family Manor when Stiles had gone to the bathroom.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Talia cooed, eyes growing misty. “A new celebration for the family to look forward to.”

“Congratulations, son,” Desmond said, smiling proudly. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Derek turned to Stiles’s father, unsure what to expect, but the man was still enthusiastically into the steak he had managed to bribe Stiles into letting him eat for the night.

(“If you let me eat steak, I will drink all my medication and vote for Disneyland for next year’s family holiday,” John had said.

Stiles had looked torn, but he needed all the votes they could get. Family holidays were by majority vote.

A few minutes ago, just after Stiles had gone to the bathroom, John had said, in an act of betrayal, that he still planned to vote that they go somewhere with cows, possibly Switzerland.)

“Honestly, Derek, you two are practically married already, I don’t see the difference,” John said, shrugging. But he smiled. “You’re already family, but I guess it would be nice to put everything down in black and white.”

That night, Derek thought of the words and pressed them against the skin of Stiles’s shoulder as the younger man laid in bed beside him, breathing even and deeply asleep. 

“I want to marry you,” Derek murmured reverently. 

Stiles let out a sleepy murmur, snuffling a little, before turning into Derek’s hold, letting his warm and pliant and still-mostly-asleep self be gathered into Derek’s arms. 

Derek pressed another kiss into his dark hair and smiled when Stiles squished his face against his neck.

As expected, Derek’s plan to propose to Stiles eventually made its way to their families and friends. He knew their parents wouldn’t have said anything. They knew better than to get ahead of Derek. But he knew one of his nosy siblings had probably heard and then blabbed about it. (He was betting on Matthew. He might be the oldest of them, but he was a shameless gossip.)

The constant hints and eyebrow raises during the yearly Christmas Eve dinner at the Hale Family Manor was a dead giveaway, as was Scott pulling Derek to the side for a speech—or something like that? Scott was awful at speeches—on taking care of Stiles, Erica almost spilling the beans twice before Boyd dragged his girlfriend to the corner to ply her with eggnog—which was probably the wrong thing to do—and Danny trying to coerce Derek not to propose until he got a betting pool going, with an offer to split the winnings. (It was honestly tempting.)

But it was Peter—who the hell invited him again?—who opened his big mouth.

“So, when’s the wedding?” he asked from his spot on the long dining table between Talia and Laura. Not even Talia’s death glare stopped him, but that was probably because of the two glasses of wine already in the man.

“Why is Uncle Peter even here?” Valerie asked, rolling her eyes at him. “I thought we made a rule that he’s banned here on Christmas.”

“It’s the other way around,” Cora spoke up. “He’s banned here, except for Christmas.”

John frowned. “We should add Christmas too, really complete the whole calendar.”

Peter ignored them. “So?”

Derek was sighing into his meal. Scott was groaning into his hands. Desmond was busy trying to wrestle the knife away from Talia. It would be awful if blood got on the Christmas placemats.

“Who’s getting married?” Stiles asked, confused.

“You and Derek, duh,” Peter said. “It’s high time you two stopped living in sin and finally tie the kno—” he suddenly found himself face down in his mashed potatoes from a well-timed smack on the head from Laura.

“Uh, what?” Stiles turned to Derek. 

Derek took his hand.

“I told our parents I wanted to marry you,” he said calmly. He felt a touch nervous, but honestly he’d been thinking of the words so many times that it seemed so easy to say even in front of people. 

Plus, Peter had sort of taken the wind out of his sails.

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand.

“Marriage sounds good,” he said.

Peter blinked from where he was wiping his face and still snorting out potatoes. 

“What?”

“I guess it’s high time we stopped living in sin, sweetie,” Stiles said, fluttering his eyelashes at him.

Derek sipped his glass. “Outdoor wedding would be great.” He raised his palm at Stiles. “Not Disneyland.”

“Fine. I get to pick the honeymoon then,” Stiles said.

He raised a hand at Stiles again. “Not Disneyland.”

Stiles pouted. “You’re no fun.”

Derek sighed. Stiles was so obsessed with Disneyland. “We can add it to the itinerary for a few days as long as you take time off from the hospital. We will not be getting calls during our honeymoon.”

“Deal,” Stiles said cheerfully. “I want an autumn wedding.”

Derek hummed. “That’s fine. You look beautiful in the fall.”

Stiles blushed. “Aww, Der.”

“Wait a sec! What just happened?” Peter blinked, looking around. “Did I do that? Did I get them engaged?”

“Peter is banned from our wedding,” Stiles immediately said.

Derek nodded. “Of course.”

“What? Oh, come on!” Peter whined. “I got you two engaged!”

“You did nothing. You were just nosy,” Stiles said, glaring at him. “And Derek already proposed a few nights ago.”

Derek looked to his parents. “I proposed that same night I told you.”

Stiles laughed. “No, you didn’t! You said it when I was half asleep!”

Derek shrugged. “Still counts.”

“Derek, you’re so boring,” Peter whined.

Stiles snapped his fingers, glaring at him. “Banned!”

John sighed and shoved food in his mouth. “Like I said, you two are practically already married anyway.”

“Well, we have been together for six years,” Stiles said, smiling at him, which enticed Derek to lean forward and kiss him.

“Congratulations!” erupted all over the table and Derek couldn’t help smiling.

Well, things didn’t go quite as planned, but that was all right. He was still marrying Stiles sometime in the future, and that was the most important thing.

“Peter, you’re still banned from the wedding.”

[anaxandria-writes]

Snippet Sunday

Okay so I was tagged by @beaconfeels (hi lovely!) and it’s been so long since I’ve participated in one of these, so here’s some of the overdue next chapter from What Large You Hands You Have (my Steter WIP) in which Peter manipulates a hotel worker to find Stiles:

"Good afternoon. Are you here to check in?" she asked, her tone professional with no hitch of breath or hesitation.

"Hi, Kelly. I'm actually here to visit someone, but unfortunately, I can't seem to reach him and forgot his room number.  His name is Stiles Stilinski, but he might be using his given name of Mieczyslaw.”

"I'm sorry to hear that." No, she wasn't. That was an apathetic tone, if he'd ever heard one.  He decided to kick up the pitifulness a notch.  It wasn't like she'd ever see him again, his pride could take the hit.

He looked straight up into the lights above the desk as he swallowed, wishing that his body was more sensitive to the brightness. He glanced at her face then away then back again.  

"Sir, I'm sorry but it's our policy not to give out information of any of our guests."

Another swallow. He bit his tongue. Hard.

Come on.

Finally, he felt the prick of water in his eyes. He couldn't remember much of torts from his law school days, but he 100% remembered coaching defendants as witnesses. All it took was one tenderhearted juror to eat up a sob story.

Blink once, blink twice so the tear really starts to get going.

"He's my," voice crack for a pause, and another blink, "boyfriend." A deep breath, shake of the head to simulate pulling himself together, but really to flesh out the improv which would have to spill out with feigned emotion. "Stiles is my boyfriend. And we got into a stupid fight, and now I haven't been able to get in contact with him all day. You know how long distance can be, right? It's been killing us and he insisted on the hotel because you know how family can be and I've been so out of my mind that I can't remember which room it is.  I think it's the fifth, but honestly, it could be any of them."

Peter had to stop to breathe a bit and let his acting marinate before he went for the kill -- "I know you have your policies, but look," he shoved his phone with the chat to Stiles open on his phone, "he sent me a one letter text this morning and nothing since!  He has a heart condition, and I just... fear for the worst.  Is there anything you can do?"

Her colleague had returned to watch his display and looked far more moved than Kelly, but he had seen the flicker of uncertainty as soon as he pulled out the health card.  No hotel worker wanted to risk finding a dying guest.

Her eyes scanned the messages to Stiles again and he had to keep himself from pulling his phone back.

"Look, I understand you're upset. May I ask your name?"

"Peter. Peter Hale."

Her colleague pulled a bottle of water from under the desk and slid it toward Peter along with a box of tissues. And Peter was not one to say no to a prop, so he grabbed one and dabbed at his eyes before giving a small close-lipped smile to them both.

"Look, I'm not supposed to be doing this, but I can call his room and see if he'll agree to see you. David, if you tell anyone, you're dead to me.  What was his last name again?"  Her colleague (David, apparently) nodded, before turning sad eyes on Peter again.

[princeescaluswords]

I wanted to make a little thing about Teen Wolf teen as the Mystery Inc. Gang and my first thought was to make Scott Scooby because wolf - dog hehe (and I'd be using Stiles, Kira, Lydia and Allison so no other werewolves) and then I realised there are maybe some Implications(TM) to having the only Latino character depicted as a dog and I decided against it.

Anyway, I wish fanfic authors were capable of putting that much thought into their stories where Scott is written out or turned into a villain for no good reason

There are indeed implications, and that's something that fanfiction writers have to come to terms with: there are always implications.

One of the worst aspects of fandom is that content creators try to exert absolute control how their work is received after it is made public. They have this in common with every artist who ever lived, so it's understandable, but it's also unachievable. The only answer I have found is to work as hard as I can to understand these implications and accommodate them into your work.

I'm not speaking from a position of moral purity. Earlier this year, I wrote a story that I thought was an exploration of Mason Hewitt's role in the Teen Wolf movie, and someone whose opinion I trust argued that I botched the implications of what I wrote in terms of racism. Things like that are going to happen, regardless of intent, and the best thing content creators can do is not only be aware of how their work will exist within a greater cultural context but be open to criticism about it. I am always willing to grapple with implications I didn't foresee, including accepting the responsibility to defend my own writing. (Including this post!)

So let's talk about your idea. Why is it precarious to emphasize the animal-like aspects of a Latino character, even if he is a werewolf? This.

History cannot be erased, and it should not be ignored.

In the history of the United States, Latinos, among other disadvantaged groups, have been likened to animals in order to impose a social order that insists that they have to submit to white control. It's not arguable whether this has happened or not. When you write a story that emphasizes the animal-like traits of a Latino character (or any similar disadvantaged group), you must grapple with the historical and cultural context.

And the Teen Wolf fandom has not only failed to do that repeatedly, they've often doubled down on the implications. Think about how many times that Scott has been portrayed in fanfiction as having issues with self-control, more than any other beta, which serves as a condemnation for his refusal to submit to a white male character (either Derek or Stiles or even Peter). This requires a change to the original story, because the writers choose to ignore that other betas have problems with self-control as the adjust to the shift, and they choose to ignore multiple instances of Scott having significant self-control, such as Magic Bullet (1x04), Heart Monitor (1x06), Shapeshifted (2x02), and Party Guessed (2x09).

Think about how many times Scott has been given animalistic traits in fanfiction that he doesn't have in the show, especially traits which serve to emphasize his inferiority, and these traits are not shared by the other werewolves? He is a voracious eater! He can't cook, or clean, or take care of himself! He is oblivious to the sophisticated emotional and social states of his white peers. He's obsessed with sexual gratification and constantly indulges in sexual behavior in public. He's an indifferent student at best, frequently requiring assistance in even basic subjects. None of these are supported even remotely by the show. As an aside, many of these are also part of the same stereotypes given to Latinos: sexually voracious, passionately aggressive, lazy, uneducated, and ruled by appetite.

Now, a possible counterargument is that the show itself sometimes emphasized the animalistic traits that Scott gained through his transformation into a werewolf. The wolf run in Seasons 1 and 2. Sticking his head out the window to get Lydia's scent in Omega (2x01). Sleeping at the foot of his mother's bed to protect her in Currents (3x07). The dog bowl scene in Lunatic (1x08).

There is an important difference. In the show the white werewolves have scenes like that as well, such as the dog whistle Deaton uses on Derek in Fury (2x10) and the fact that Isaac, too, is sleeping at the foot of the bed. But the most important part is that these instances aren't used to position Scott or anyone else as inferior because they have the traits of an animal. They're not used to impose a racially-influenced social order. Even the scene in Lunatic (which, as a caveat, I personally do not like at all) is more about Stiles than about Scott being animal-like, demonstrating that Stiles's standard tactics of good-natured bullying and cruel sarcasm are no longer appropriate for his relationship with Scott, which Stiles must confront.

So my point is, if you want to create content for a Mystery Inc. AU, I don't think that there's any reason you absolutely cannot do it, but I feel you would have to pay very close attention to HOW you create that content. Are you ignoring the historical and cultural context of your work? Are you ignoring power dynamics inherent in your choices? What's the message you're sending by your changes? While I don't see the need or even the applicability of this AU, I'm relatively confident that it could be done, as long as you don't use your intent as a shield for the finished product. Intention does not guarantee freedom from offense, a concept that fandom has had trouble with again and again.