#glad i somehow dodged all this even tho i got messaged by one of the players

[scrollypoly]

Feeling oddly validated in this chillis tonight

[lenniewip]

Unknown (A Sterek Wrong Number/Celebrity AU)

11.09 PM Unknown Number

>I’m writing songs about you again.

11.20 PM Unknown Number

>its stiles btw.

>in case you deleted my number

>I did.

>I mean I deleted yours.

>but I still remember it apparently

11:41 PM Unknown Number

>I only have 2 lines so far

11:57 PM Unknown Number

>I bleed you from my veins.

>I grieve you like I love you.

>alone.

>its better with the chords.

>u were always better at writing lyrics than me

12:34 AM Unknown Number

>u were better everything than me

2:00 AM Unknown Number

>I hate that I miss you

2:07 AM Unknown Number

>do u want to hook up?

>I promise not to propose again

2:15 AM Unknown Number

>im sorry.

>ignore me.

>im drinking

Derek blinked bleary eyes. His phone screen was the only source of light in his room, as he read through the flurry text messages.

What the hell is a Stiles?

2:17 AM Unknown Number

<I think you have the wrong number

>Lydia?

<no

>oh thank fuck

>I mean

>I’m sorry

>for disturbing ur sleep

>but im just glad I didn’t drunk text my ex all of this

>bullet dodged right?

>is this what near death experiences feel like?

<I wouldn’t know.

>of course

>hey

>seeming as I have you here can I ask you a quick q?

>all my friends are asleep

<probably because its 3am

<everyone’s asleep

>2.39

>and ur not

>asleep that is

>so?

>I’ll take your silence as a go ahead

>what do you think?

>of the lyrics

<im the wrong person to ask

>never experienced heartbreak?

<no

<all song lyrics just look like bad poetry to me

>oh

>yeah I guess it does

>not everyone can be Rupi Kaur tho right?

<do you want to be rupi kaur?

>sure

>not to be dramatic or anything

>but

>I want to be anyone but me

>think id rather be someone like regina spektor tho

<regina spektor?

>singer/song writer

>shes my fucking inspiration

>her lyrics are like poetry to me

>you should listen to her music

<I dont really listen to music

>what the fuck?

>are you an alien?

<no?

>nice fucking try ET

>thats exactly what an alien would say

<…you got me there

>akdjfen

>is this you admitting I was right?

<no

<but this is me going to bed

<because its now 4AM

>already?

>fuck

>ive got an early start tomorrow

>good night random stranger

>and thanks

>for listening

>or reading ig

<good night

//

“You’re late.” Laura frowned, arms crossed.

“Are you going to let me in?” Derek grumbled, still feeling the affects of having stayed up until 4AM the previous night.

Laura didn’t argue she just stepped aside to let him through into her flat. “You’re grumpier than usual.” She noted.

“Didn’t sleep well.”

Derek hated the look she gave him then.

The look that said he was broken. The look that said she wanted to fix him.

“Is…Is it the nightmares again?” Laura’s voice dipped to a whisper, like the question alone would be enough to send him over the edge.

“No.”

An awkward silence defended over the two of them, neither knowing what to say.

Derek clung to the silence like a blanket, wishing things could go back to how they used to be. Back to when they knew how to speak to one another.

But this was enough.

It was enough to know that they were both trying. Failing. But trying.

//

2:40 PM Laura

>I’m here if you need to talk.

//

Derek isn’t good at art, but sometimes it’s the only way he can express himself. Words had never been his forte.

So instead he doodles.

Shitty toddler level doodles that he never shows anyone.

Sometimes he thinks if he could bring himself to show Laura she would like it. Maybe she would even understand it.

But there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t, and he would feel even more like a stranger to his own sister than he already was.

//

10:18 PM Unknown Number

>I don’t remember it anymore

<You have the wrong number again

>No

>This is ‘not Lydia’ right?

<right

>So here’s the thing.

>I always thought if I needed to text her I could

>And I thought maybe I got her number wrong because I was drunk

>But I can’t remember it anymore

<Oh.

>I have some of her things still

>I don’t think I’ll ever get to return it now

>Unless she messages me first

<When did you two break up?

>Last year

>and I know what you’re thinking

>’it’s October’

>and I should be over her by now

>Trust me I know

>So you don’t need to lecture me

<I wasn’t going to

>Oh

<Stiles?

>That’s weird

<what is?

>I forgot I told you my name

<You should throw away the stuff she left behind.

>you’re right

>I don’t like it.

>but you’re right

>…thanks

<What for?

>for listening

>reading**

>my friends are pretty sick of hearing me complain

>so this is nice

<sure

<anytime

>dope

>no take backsies

<am I going to regret this?

>for definite

>you’re stuck with me now

//

That night Derek saves Stiles’ number as ‘Bad Poet’.

//

Stiles keeps messaging after that.

Stiles messages like they’ve been friends for years, and Derek very determinedly does not analyse why it is he always responds.

Even when there are messages dated from Laura from three days ago that he hasn’t even been able to bring himself to open yet.

He also ignores how when he’s messaging Stiles the gaping pit that had made residence in his chest feels just a little less inescapable.

//

Derek can’t bring himself to tell Stiles his name. He can’t bring himself open up, even though there’s a large part of him that wants to.

He’s not above admitting he’s scared.

//

Derek draws Stiles sometimes.

More accurately he draws a vague pair hands texting on a phone, because he has no idea what Stiles actually looks like.

Derek refuses to let himself dwell on that though, because they are happy drawings.

The pictures of Stiles are pretty much his only happy drawings right now.

//

They don’t always talk about Lydia.

Sometimes Stiles messages Derek song lyrics he’s working on.

Other times it’s memes, or just a bunch of emojis.

Once Stiles had just messaged him what Derek could only assume was a list of everything he had eaten that day.

Sometimes Stiles messages in rambles - and Derek can’t always keep up with the boy’s run away thoughts, but even then he never feels lost the way he does when he’s trying to interact with literally anyone else.

And sometimes it’s 2AM. Those are simultaneously Derek’s favourite and least favourite texts.

//

2:02 AM Bad Poet

>sometimes I feel like too much

>and too little

>at the same time

>u ever feel like that ET?

<not really

>its like I’m infinite, and meaningless

>like a never ending echo

>or a recurring decimal

>I just stretch on and on forever but theres no point to it

>I have no depth

<youre not meaningless

<you’re a rhythm.

<like breathing

>…

>was that a regina spektor reference?

<it might have been

>I thought you didn’t listen to music?

<well someone said her lyrics were like poetry

<so I thought I would check out a few songs

>well fuck

>what did you think?

<she’s good

>you spelt ‘amazing’ wrong

<I still prefer poetry

>of course you do

Derek stared at the texts an ache filling his chest.

Derek was the opposite of infinite. Everything he touched turned to flames.

//

10:30AM Bad Poet

<my sister bought me flower seeds

>I didn’t know you had a sister?

<she’s everything I have

>oh

<and I think she’s trying to trick me into therapy somehow

>…with flower seeds?

<yes

>you sound extremely paranoid

>maybe therapy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you?

<shut up

>noted.

>keep me posted on how your gardening goes

>also

>as a side note

>you know you have me too right?

>if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m right here for you

<thanks

>anytime

//

On Derek’s birthday Laura insists the two of them spend the day together, and Derek knows better than to argue.

She buys him a cake and they spend hours sat next to one another silently. Two strangers desperately trying to keep hold of one another but with an ocean dividing them.

Once their family had been so alive.

And it was all Derek’s fault that was gone.

They both knew it.

Sometimes Derek wondered if Laura hated him as much as he did.

He was too scared to ask.

//

That night Derek chased the ache in his chest away with a drink.

And then several more followed.

//

1:14 AM Bad Poet

<seh haars me

>sorry bud, you’re going to have to try again

>try spell checking before hitting send

<she.hates mee

>who?

<larn

>are you drunk?

<yeh

<tyongs ndrf

*Out Going Call: Bad Poet*

The phone rings twice before being picked up. “Sorry. Stupid keyboard is so small. Impossible to type.” Derek mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his cheek being pressed into the sofa cushion.

“Wow. You’re really sloshed huh?”

“No.” Derek denied. “Just tipsy.”

“Right. So what was it you were trying to tell me? Someone hates you?”

“Laura.”

“Who’s Laura?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.”

“She looks at me like she wishes she could fix me.”

“That doesn’t sound like she hates you, bud.”

“She should. I can’t be fixed.”

“You’re right, because you’re not broken.”

Hearing Stiles say that Derek could almost believe it to be true.

“I mean it. You’re not broken. You’re just a different shape than you used to be. But the shape you are now is beautiful.”

Derek closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. “Do you sing?” He finds himself asking.

“What?”

“I know you write songs, but do you ever sing?”

“Oh…” Stiles sounds uncomfortable. “I guess… Yeah. I do.”

Derek hummed in the back of his throat. “I bet you have a nice voice.”

“Th-thanks.”

Derek tried to say something else, but all that comes out is a yawn, which makes Stiles let out a jittery laugh.

Derek tries to memorise the sound of It, but it’s so fleeting, it’s already slipping away from him.

“I think you need to go sleep, ET.”

“Yeah.” Derek agrees.

“Goodnight bud.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Could you stay on the phone? Just for a bit longer.” Derek clutched on to the phone like if he could grip tightly enough it would make Stiles stay.

I don’t want to be alone. The words die on Derek’s tongue.

“Sure.” Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Sleep pulled at Derek’s consciousness, unravelling his grip on reality.

“Stiles?”

Stiles hummed in answer.

“Your shape is beautiful too.”

A small whimper came from the other end of the phone. “Thanks.”

//

7:50 AM Bad Poet

>how are you feeling today?

<better

>good <3

Derek holds his phone tightly and wishes that he had more to say. Just to keep the conversation going.

He also wishes (not for the first time) that Stiles was more than a faceless entity on the other end of the phone.

But it’s the first time he feels the want like a physical ache in his chest.

Derek had never been good with words, but if Stiles was here in front of him Derek would probably give him a hug.

But everything Derek touches eventually dies, and a larger part of him is relieved for the distance.

//

Derek plants the seeds his sister got him that day.

//

9:48 PM Bad Poet

>would it totally weird you out if I wanted to do another phone call?

>don’t feel like you need to say yes

>I just enjoyed talking to you

>and hearing your voice

>ugh.

>why are words so hard?

<I wouldn’t be opposed to a phone call

*Incoming Call: Bad Poet*

“Hey.” Derek feels breathless as he answers the phone, anxious excitement clawing it’s way up his throat.

“Hey.” Stiles sounds equally out of breath, and that helps.

Derek chews on his lip, scrambling for something to say. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “Anything.”

“Helpful.” Derek said sarcastically.

“I mean. There’s one thing. I didn’t want to ask when you were drunk because it felt a little like taking advantage. And I don’t want you to think you have to answer-”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupts before Stiles could break into a full blown ramble.

“Tell me your name.” Stiles breaks. “Please.”

Anxiety grips his heart. But… he couldn’t stay scared forever.

“It’s Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles repeats his name in a reverent whisper, as if committing it to memory.

And hearing Stiles say his name makes everything worth it.

//

Phone calls become a regular thing between the two of them over the next month. Always between late in the evening and the early hours of the day.

//

The next time Derek spirals he doesn’t drink before he calls Stiles, but he does cry on the phone.

The next morning he wakes up to a text from Stiles.

6:42 AM Bad Poet

>you need to talk to your sister

And Derek knows he’s right.

//

It’s not easy confronting Laura. He has two separate anxiety attacks on the walk to her apartment alone.

But he forces himself to take the dive.

“It’s okay if you hate me.” He tells her, even though it’s not okay. Laura’s hate might be the only thing in the world that could break him beyond repair.

Laura looks horrified as she stares at him. “I don’t- Obviously I don’t hate you Derek.”

“It’s my fault that they’re gone.” Derek addresses the elephant in the room.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.

If he hadn’t broken up with her, just to try and prove a point when she refused to say ‘I love you’ back…

There never would have been a fire.

Their family would still be here if it wasn’t for him.

“Fuck that!” Laura let out a harsh noise. “Derek, none of this was ever your fault. You were a kid, and even if you weren’t… You never set the fire.”

“I might as well have.”

“No. If anyone… I was your big sister- am your big sister. But I was so fucking wrapped up in myself. I didn’t even know about Kate.”

The last time Derek had seen Laura cry it had been at the funeral, so it took a second to fully sink in what he was seeing.

He found himself crying to.

“I’m so sorry, Der.”

Derek stumbled forwards pulling Laura into a crushing hug. Laura hugs him back just as tight.

They spend hours refusing to let go of one another.

//

He realises he fell asleep on Laura’s sofa when he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. But he had no idea where it was, and he was too tired to move.

He feels Laura moving and the sound of the phone ringing gets louder before cutting off abruptly.

“Hello?”

“No - Derek’s asleep.”

“Maybe call at a more reasonable time?”

“Who is this?”

“Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Derek let sleep over take him once more.

//

2:29 AM Bad Poet

>sorry for calling so late

>you’re asleep so I’ll just take to you tomorrow

//

9:07 AM Bad Poet

<sorry, I was really tried

>no worries man

>you’re allowed to have a life outside of me

<was something wrong?

>no I was just bored, and didn’t realise how late it had gotten

>im fine

>how are you?

<im good actually

<I spoke to Laura

>yeah?

>I’m proud of you

>how’d that go?

<we both cried

<a lot

<and I ended up falling asleep on her couch

>look at you, opening up and shit.

>think I might cry now

<shut up

>literally never

>better men have tried and failed to silence me

//

2:40 PM Laura

>Want to see a movie on Friday?

<sure

//

One night Stiles calls Derek just to say his name in stupid ways, and laugh himself stupid after each one.

“Duhreek.”

“Doreck.”

“Fuck. I’m getting a stitch from laughing.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Derek is smiling as he said it.

“Deeruk.” Stiles wheezes out.

Derek just closes hie eyes and listens.

“I’m so fucking glad I know you, Stiles.” The words fall out of Derek’s mouth without much thought.

He only realises the weight of his words when Stile’s laughter pulls to a stop.

“I uh-” Stiles stammered. “Me too. Fuck. You’re the best thing to happen to me in…so fucking long. I’m glad I know you too Derek.”

//

Derek finally admits to himself that night that he’d fallen at least a little in love with the stranger from the unknown number.

//

He keeps trying to draw Stiles, but he can’t. Vague shapes just don’t cut it anymore.

He wants to map Stiles out with his eyes and translate it onto the page.

He wants to be able to see the smile behind the laughter.

He wants.

//

1:58 AM Bad Poet

>do you think you day we’ll actually meet?

>maybe not intentionally

>maybe one day we’d pass each other in the streets and not even know

>maybe we already have

Derek couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t notice Stiles.

<is there ever a moment when you’re not talking?

<I think id recognise your voice and know it was you

>maybe your face would make me speechless ;)

<I think id still know

<but if you want to be sure… I could send you a picture?

<of me

>dkfajd

>for reals?

>you would do that?

>you?

<well…not for free

>there’s always a catch

>what do you want?

>my soul?

>a blood debt?

>you can have whatever it is

<I meant you’d have to send me a picture too

<geez stiles

The next text takes an unnervingly long time to come through.

>I could do that

>a photo for a photo

>I kind of look like shit rn

>so no judging me

Derek spends the next two minutes fussing and fidgeting to take a good photo. No matter what angle he took it from the bags under his eyes were noticeable, and so was the week’s worth of stubble he had yet to shave off.

And maybe this was a terrible, awful, idea.

But Derek would send one hundred bad pictures if it meant getting to see one of Stiles.

He forced himself to press send on the last picture he took.

As he pressed send another photo came in.

Derek’s fingers shook as he hit the button to download the image.

His heart stopped.

Stiles was beautiful in every sense of the word, and Derek found himself unable to look away. Even when he heard the small dings of incoming messages.

But he couldn’t ignore them for long, because it was Stiles. And when ever Stiles messaged Derek had to answer.

>Fucking hell

>are you for real?

>you gave me a heart attack

>am I being catfished right now?

>when do you think you were going to tell me you’re the most fucking beautiful man to exist ever?

>how the hell to you look like that as 2AM!?

>Derek

>oh my god

>you gotta respond my dude because I’m freaking out a little bit

>still there?

>did my selfie scare you away?

>I would have tried harder for a nice photo if I knew I was talking to an adonis

>Derek?

<still here

>of thank fuck

>so…

<so?

>come on

>your going to give me a complex

>the selfie…was it okay?

>I know it’s not much

>but we can’t all be greek gods

<its beautiful

<you’re beautiful, stiles

>oh

>thanks

//

Derek is so far gone that he makes the picture of Stiles the home screen on his phone.

//

9:49 AM Bad Poet

<Laura wants me to meet her boyfriend

<this is all your fault

>how is this my fault?

<because she never wanted to introduce us before

<and then you got me to talk to my sister

<and now she wants me to meet him

>…and this is a bad thing?

<yes

>because?

<I don’t make good first impressions

<it’s going to be awkward

>yeah probably

<you’re not helpful

>I wasn’t trying to be ;)

>have fun, Derek!

//

Meeting Laura’s boyfriend wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it was going to be. But it was strange.

Derek hadn’t been expecting to meet someone so soft and kind. He was nothing like any one that Laura had dated before.

But he also wasn’t used to seeing Laura smile as much as she did around him.

Maybe not all change was bad.

//

Derek tells Laura about Stiles by accident. Or more accurately he mentions Stiles once by accident (not even by name) and Laura had badgered him until he admitted that he had made a friend through a wrong number.

“There’s a lot of weirdos out there.”

“I know.”

God did Derek ever know.

But Stiles is different.

“Just…be careful.”

“I am being. I promise.”

Laura reluctantly lets it go after that. “So…what’s he like?”

“He’s…he’s like bad poetry.”

“Oh god. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”

Derek can’t bring himself to deny it, but he does tell Laura to shut up.

//

Derek fully embraces being in love with Stiles on the day he tells Stiles about his drawings. He’d never told anyone about them before - not even Laura. But telling Stiles had been easy.

‘It reminds me of line art’ Stiles had said when Derek had sent him a photo of the doodle he had been working on. “I love it’.

A warmth flutters through Derek’s veins.

//

It all goes sideways on the day Laura goes on Derek’s phone to check the time.

She’d raised one eyebrow at him looking amused.

“I thought you didn’t listen to music?” She said, a teasing note to her voice.

“I don’t.” Derek shrugged.

“A huh. So why do you have a picture of Stiles Stilinski as your wallpaper?” She asks.

It’s so startling to hear Stiles name coming out of Laura’s mouth that Derek’s brain refuses to function properly. “How do you know Stiles?” He asks weakly.

Laura laughs. “He’s not exactly a niche celebrity Der. He was a really famous YouTuber before he started selling albums.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. He blinks as his world slowly unravels before him.

No.

She had to be wrong, because Derek couldn’t be in love with a celebrity. Stiles couldn’t be…

“Hey are you okay? You look really sick?”

“He’s famous?” His throat is dry.

“Yes? Are you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve got to speak to me Der. Use your words.”

Derek just shakes his head because he can’t.

“It’s him.” He manages to get out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Laura. It’s him.”

It takes a moment to click but Derek knows when it does because a look of thunderous wrath takes over Laura’s face.

“I’ll kill him.” She seethes, shaking with anger. “What kind of fucking punk thinks that this is a good prank to play?”

“What?”

“No one is getting away with catfishing you, Der. I’m going to hunt this fucker down, and then I’ll rip him so many new ones that he going to look like SpongeBob when I’m done with him.”

And god, Derek hadn’t even considered the thought that Stiles might not even be Stiles. The thought of Stiles being a liar…

The gape in his heart grows a little bit bigger.

And it all falls apart.

//

It takes hours before Derek can convince himself to confront Stiles.

11:08 PM Bad Poet

<you’re stiles stilinki

>fuck

(And yeah, it was really him).

>how did you find out?

<Laura

>I was going to tell you

<Were you?

>Yes

>I’ve wanted to for ages

>It just never felt like the right time to bring it up

<I wish you had decided on the right time was sooner

>Me too

>I’m sorry

>Please don’t hate me

Derek did not think it was possible for him to hate any part of Stiles.

<I don’t

>Thank fuck

>seriously

>can I call you?

<sure

Derek closed his eyes after sending the text and waited for Stiles to ring. A heartbeat later his ringtone sounded off.

“Hey.”

“You believe me right?” And Stiles sounds more frantic than Derek had ever heard him before.

“I believe you, Stiles.”

“Are you sure, because I can prove it if you want? I can do a video call? Or I can tweet literally anythi-”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Stiles lets out a small whine, that reaches through the phone line and yanks at Derek’s already tattered heart, unraveling him just a little more.

“Meet me.” Stiles said, taking Derek by surprise.

“What?”

“Please. I meant to throw a please in there, I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Meet me please. In real life. I uh- I was going to ask when I finally told you about the whole being a celebrity thing. It’s still weird to say that out loud. That’s part of why it was so hard to tell you. But the point was you beat me to the punch with the whole reveal thing, but I still wanted to ask.”

“Stiles…”

“And it’s not that I was trying to use my influence or fame to pressure you into meeting me. I just wanted to be in a space where we were one hundred per cent honest with one another before I asked you. You can still say no. Of course you can, I don’t know why I’m- my point is I hope you don’t say no.”

Derek feels his heart break in two.

“Stiles…I can’t.”

“Oh.”

He hadn’t fully realised just how many worlds apart the two of them were when he had fallen in love with Stiles. It felt even more impossible than it had before.

“I’m sorry.” The words leave him feeling hollow.

“No. Don’t apologise. This is just me getting carried away. It’s okay.”

I love you. The words never leave Derek. They can’t leave him.

There was no way this could work, and he was far too scared of breaking the tentative connection they had with his useless words.

It was better for him to just… fall out of love.

//

6:17AM Laura

<it’s really him

>are you sure

<I’m sure

>what are you going to do?

<nothing

>Derek you’re in love with him

<I’m aware

<it doesn’t matter

<it wouldn’t ever work

>I’m sorry

<don’t be

<I’m going to be fine

>Im coming over with wine

//

That night Derek fills pages and pages of his notebook with drawings of Stiles.

When he gets a message from Stiles at 11PM- for the first time since they started messaging- Derek leaves it unopened.

//

He never ignores a message again after that, and life moves on. Stiles still messages him all the time, but he never asks to call anymore.

Derek misses his voice so much that he goes onto youtube and listens to his music.

He buys all three albums Stiles released and it still doesn’t feel like enough.

//

He fills an entire notebook with doodles of Stiles.

It’s still not enough.

//

1:11 PM Bad Poet

>I wrote you a song

>I know you don’t listen to music

>but it felt weird to not a least send you a link

>bad poetry at 2:00am

The link leads Derek to a youtube video of Stiles holding a ukulele and staring with a soft smile at the camera.

“Hey guys. It’s been a while, huh? But I guess I finally found inspiration. So here we go.”

The song is beautiful, but even more beautiful than that was Stiles.

When the song reached the end Derek doesn’t hesitate to hit replay.

He listens to the song ten times before he realises he’s crying - and he knows that he’s never going to ‘get over’ Stiles because he doesn’t want to.

//

3:00 PM Laura

>have you seen the video?

<he sent me a link

<he wrote a song for me Laura

<I love him so fucking much and he wrote a song for me

>fuck

<what do I do?

>what do you want to do?

<I don’t know

>I think you should look at his twitter

<?

>I wasn’t going to say anything because you said you wanted to get over him

>but I think you need to see it

>@stilesstilinki

//

@stilesstilinski

I want to hug him

@stilesstilinski

Get you a guy that will stay up with you until 4AM talking about literally anything

@stilesstilinski

Why do I alway fall for people so far out of my league? rip me I guess.

@stilesstilinski

He makes me want to write poetry

Derek spends hours scrolling through Stiles’ twitter.

He scrolls far enough back that he gets to the part of his timeline where his twitter is littered with pictures of Lydia, which causes the ache in Derek’s chest to grow. But he can’t stop looking because Stiles looks so happy.

And Derek falls impossibly more in love.

He lets himself acknowledge for the first time that Stiles might love him back.

And everything else?

It’s worth it.

Because Stiles is worth everything to Derek.

//

2:00 AM Bad Poet

<so I looked at your twitter

>fuck.

>how much did you see?

<all of it

>tight

>please excuse me while I go die now

>bye

<don’t leave yet

<I had something I wanted to ask you

>did you want me to delete the tweets?

>I can do that

>I’ll just delete the whole account

>I am my own worst enemy so this won’t be a problem

>actually Jackson Whittemore is my worst enemy

>but I’m a close second

<stiles?

>yup?

<Will you go on a date with me?

>alkdjf

>yes?

>Ofc yes?

>are you being serious?

>because this would be a cruel prank if you’re not serious

<I’m serious

>yes.

>yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes.

>holy shit

>theres no fucking universe where I say ‘no’ to that question from you

>im so fucking in love with you

>is it too soon to say that?

>I don’t even care

>I’m speaking my truth

>you obviously don’t have to say it back

>im going to woo you so hard Derek

>you’ll have to love me back eventually

>I’m going to write you poetry

>hell I’ll even read poetry for you

>ill give the whole fucking moon to you

<why would I want the moon?

<im not gru?

>despicable me

>that was a despicable me reference.

>you don’t listen to music, but you watch despicable me?

>you’re such an enigma to me Derek

>god I love you so much

<stiles?

>too much?

<no

<I don’t think I could ever have too much of you

<I love you too stiles

<so much

<I just don’t want you to get your hopes up

<I might not be able to live up to it in real life

>impossible

<seriously stiles

>I am being serious

>I’m already in love with you Der

>you don’t have to do anything more than you’ve already done

>you could wear a potato sack, and spend the whole night not saying anything at all

>and I would still be in love with you

>all you have to do now is show up

<…I can do that

>perfect

//

TWO YEARS LATER

@stilesstilinski

Hey @JacksonWhittemore, remember when you told me I would die alone? Well I just got engaged to the love of my life. So checkmate fucker.

[milasartblog]

Advice

Sometimes humans need to let things out and ask for help those, who are capable to do it. These people call themselves psychologists or therapists. But sometimes even divine creatures need such people. Seemed a bit silly for them, you say. Well, one of few deities doesn't think so, an angel called Nicole. Today she was in her office in a thought, when suddenly she heard a knock.

Nicole: Yes, come in.

When the door opened, she looked at a person, whose face was familiar.

Nicole: Sir Michael, good day. Pleasure to see you. Please, come in.

Michael: Hello, Niki. Glad to see you too.

He walked in as he closed the door behind him.

Nicole: Please, take a sit.

Both of them took their seats as Nicole prepared her tablet for work.

Michael: Hope you got my message.

Nicole: I did and honestly, I'm a bit surprised that you need my help. I mean, it's not like I mind, but knowing how archangels are powerful.

Michael: You know that even archangels need help from people like you, Niki. Plus, you're the only one whom I can trust for advice.

Nicole: That's very kind of you, Sir. I will do my best.

Michael: Please, just Michael. And well, the situation is not one of those that I can't handle, it's....I just got stuck on what to do.

Nicole: It's connected with recent events that you told me in message, right?

Michael: Yes.

He sighed deeply and heavily, feeling like not going into too much details, and yet hiding such obvious thing is also not good.

Michael: You know about my relationship with Luci, right?

Nicole: Well, everyone knows. If you're worried about being judged by me, no worries, I'm not a gossip person and not the one to judge.

Michael: I know. Just, the news about fight between Lucifer and Algaron flew so fast and now some angels and demons can't stop talking about it.

Nicole: There were a lot of talkings about it. But I guess the problem is deeper.

Michael nodded as put his hands in pray possition, sighing heavily.

Michael: Even tho I trust you, I can't tell the results of the fight. But because of this situation, Lucifer is....not like himself. I mean, he still acts like Lucifer, but....sometimes they seem fake to me. It's unlike him. He even does those demon things with me rarely. I-I mean, it's good that I had a break from it, but....

Nicole: He didn't even pay attention to his job, to you and others, he felt a sudden feeling of guilty and spends more time isolated, right?

Michael: No, it's not like this. I just feel like....he hides something from me. He kept repeating "I failed you....I'm not the one whom you should hope for....I'm sorry". I tried to talk to him, but he kept repeating "I'm fine, it's nothing. Don't worry about me" and so on. I don't want to force him to talk with me, but also I want to help with a problem he is dealing with....

Nicole: So you just want to talk with him, but he keeps dodging your questions. That's so demon likely.

He looked down, closing his eyes, trying to think. Meanwhile Nicole took time to analyse the situation with what she had. Then, she sighed.

Nicole: Look, Si- umm, Michael, I know that you're a soft person, but if you really want to talk with him, you have to make up a situation, comfortable for him.

Michael: I tried. Even at the sea cost, his favourite place to be, he felt like not being honest with me.

Nicole: Then provoke him.

Suddenly Michael's expression changed to puzzled and stunned.

Michael: What?? But why??

Nicole: You said that nothing you do works. As I understood, you tried to solve the situation from angel's side. However, you know better than me that demons are natural liars. So, instead, just provoke him for chat.

Michael: But isn't it a bit harsh?

Nicole: I didn't say to provoke in a bad way. Plus, some demons like unusual provocations. Just try to do something that is not like you, something that Lucifer has never expected from you to do it.

Michael thought about things that Lucifer ever did and immediately blushed.

Michael: I can't do any of this! W-What if he finds it more entertaining for him??

Nicole: You're sometimes too simple, Michael. I didn't say to do it all the time. Think about the thing that will be simple and yet will not cause damage to angel reputation.

Michael got into thought again as he kept blushing.

Michael: Well, there is one thing I can try. But what if this is not going to work too?

Nicole: It has to. If not, then it's his demon side. But if it works, the only thing you need to do is telling straight that you want to talk. Even if it's hurtful thing.

Michael:....I still want to try to be not harsh, but I will try this thing. It's just I'm not used to be that serious.

Nicole: I know. I'm not forcing you to follow exactly what I say. I just hope that it will somehow helps. I mean it.

Michael looked at her with smile.

Michael: And how can you still look serious while talking about it?

Nicole: I'm always serious about my job.

Michael: Well, then you should be a bit soft from time to time.

Nicole: Not when it's about job.

Michael giggled softly as stood up and was about to go.

Michael: Well, thank you, Nicole. I felt a bit relieved to talk with you about it.

Nicole: That's my job to do it, Michael. I hope to see you again some time.

Michael: Will do my best to pay a visit outside of work. For now, take care.

Nicole: You too.

And he walked outside of the office. Nicole meanwhile walked to her table as sighed deeply.

Nicole: Remind me why I still do this job.

---------------

And that's another story of our universe^^ And a new character appeard thanks to the chat XD Soon will post a reference about her^^ For now, hope you will enjoy the story^^

Michael and Nicole belong to @wildstarfan and @milasartblog (both me)

Okaria et Feria belongs to @wildstarfan and @captainthane

[autisticblueteam]

someone coming out to wash or wash not being able to resist making a joke about his own gender?

@stormphrax​ thank you buddy!! I managed to mush together these two into a somewhat coherent story so.

Also as the need to do this and this fic in general have been very inspired by @fyrehawk​ / agendermaine’s fics Showers and Twin Scars I feel like they deserve a tag here too?? But anyway!!

Transmission

[AO3] [Fic Tag][Ko-Fi in Bio]

Word Count: 2818

Summary: Still finding his feet among his new teammates, there’s some things that Wash has been waiting for the right time to bring up. Or well, that was the plan. His lack of filter has other ideas.

“Hey, Wash?”

Wash glanced back over his shoulder at Connie, half-waythrough wriggling his way out of his undersuit. It caught a little on the lighttank he wore under it, and he huffed as he tugged it free, “Yeah?”

“You did good out there today,” She said, smiling at him.She was sat on the bench in front of her locker, running a comb through thelong side of her hair; it was still wet, she’d not long come out of the shower.Wash had deliberately dragged out the process of removing his armour, dodgingany questions about why he wasn’t joining her. Communal showers, and all.“Really had my back when I needed it.”

“Oh, uhm, no problem,” Wash said, throwing her a smile inreturn. And then he cursed internally, hoping that didn’t sound too awkward. Hewas still relatively new to the team and, whilst Connie was quickly becomingone of his best friends here at the project after Maine, he was still findinghis feet. “I mean, shit, thanks. Too. Thank you.”

Connie giggled under her breath, “I know what you meant,don’t worry.” Putting down her comb she let her fingers slide through her hair,separating it out and starting to braid it. “But anyway, something that yousaid out there in the field today reminded me of something I needed to tell you.”

“Yeah?” A new bundle of nervous thoughts pushed their way tothe front of his mind, and he fought to ignore them as he finally peeled offhis undersuit. He was quick to pull on his sweats after that, the baggymaterial hanging loosely on his hips. He untucked his tank.

“It’s just a heads up for future reference, but, well− I’mnot a girl,” Connie said, a hair tie snapping tight around the end of herbraid. Wash’s eyes widened, his gaze intently on his locker. His first thoughtwas: oh, right, he had referred to heras a girl offhandedly earlier. His second thought was more along the lines ofincoherent screaming, that could be roughly translated as ‘holy fucking shitI’m not alone’. “I didn’t realise I hadn’t told you yet, because everyone elsealready knows. So I kinda just didn’t think about it? But I’m non-binary. Istill use she pronouns, most of the time, though. I’m just not a strictly agirl.”

“Me either!” Wait, no. “Shit, wait, I mean− Obviously I’mnot, a girl, I mean. Um. Fuck. I didn’t say that right at all.”

Connie raised a brow, quirked an amused smile, “Use yourwords, Wash.”

“Right.” He was becoming known for muddling his words, itwas a little embarrassing. But when he got excited, any kind of emotionalreally, they just sort of− mixed themselves up, didn’t come out right. So hetook a deep breath, tugged at the drawstring of his sweats; the twang caused bythe tension was satisfying. “I mean− I’m trans. A trans guy.”

“Oh!” Connie’s face lit up, her smile spreading into a grin.She bounced a little on the spot, stood on her toes, and her arms swungslightly at her sides. “Oh oh oh! That’s why you don’t shower with everyoneelse, oh!”

Wash chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head,“Heh, yeah. Pretty much. I uh, wasn’t sure how everyone would take it, I guess?And y’know,” he coughed, lowered his voice a little, “dysphoria.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. No one on the team cares,promise,” Connie said, nudging him. “Believe me, if they did, I don’t thinkthey’d be on the team anymore. In South’s words, she’d ‘shove their head so farup their own ass that they could see sunlight’. Which… doesn’t even make thatmuch sense, now that I think about it, but I think it got her message across.”

“Yeah, that sure sounds like South,” Wash said, chuckling alittle. When Connie raised a brow again, lips curling into an amused smirk, here-considered what she’d just said and− “Wait wait wait, are you saying−?”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit.”

That made Connie laugh, muffling the sound behind the backof her hand. Wash felt heat rise to his cheeks, making his face flush pink. Ifanything that seemed to make Connie laugh more, the bright sound completing thecycle by making Wash’s blush deepen. Connie pushed up higher on her tip toesand ruffled his hair, something she’d definitelypicked up from Maine, and Wash batted playfully at the hand.

“You’re not alone on the team, like, at all. I mean, youobviously know about Maine, right?” Connie said, risking another bat at herhand to brush Wash’s hair out of his face.

“Well, yeah,” Wash said, shrugging a little. He dropped ontothe bench with a thud, started to fiddle with the drawstrings again; he twistedthem around his fingers, tied them in loose knots, and so on. “They know aboutme, too. Kinda hard to hide when you share a room.”

“So there’s me, Maine, South− Florida’s non-binary too. Thatmakes five of us!” Connie said, plopping down on the floor in front of him.Wash chuckled, nudging the side of her head with his foot.

“We’ve got the cis outnumbered, huh?” He said. Connie’s facelit up again, this time with a slightly mischievous look in her eye.

“We do. Oh South’sgoing to get a kick out of this,” She said, grinning. Then, as an afterthought,“Not that I’m gonna tell her! Y’know, until you tell everyone. But when or ifyou do.”

“I know what you meant.” Wash nudged the side of her headagain, and she batted at his foot with a pout. He smiled, relaxed; this wasokay. This was good. “Eventually.Soon, maybe. I’m glad you know now, I mean− You and Maine. You’re my two bestfriends here.”

“Aww, why thank you Wash,” Her grin became fond, and sherocked back and forth slightly, holding her feet. “Glad we can make you feelwelcome. Hey, y’know, if I sat on your shoulders then together we’d nearly makea full Maine.”

Wash chuckled, “Almost.”

“Almost. I canstand on their shoulders and get into the rafters of the rec room and sometraining rooms, you know that? Made for some amazing pranks.” Slowly coming to a stop, she uncrossed her legsand hopped up to her feet. She made sure to ruffle Wash’s hair again beforeturning back to her locker.

“Now that I have to see.”

Connie glanced back at him, winked, “I’m sure that can bearranged.”

Wash laughed, shaking his head and standing up. There was amoment of comfortable silence as both rummaged around in their lockers, puttingthings away and grabbing things they’d stowed there before the mission. It wasinterrupted, eventually, by Connie’s locker swinging closed and her speakingup.

“Hey, if you want, I can keep watch so you can have a shower,”She suggested, shrugging a little. “It can’t be nice, stewing in post-missionsweat all day.”

“I−” Wash hesitated, biting down on the inside of his cheek.Chewing a little, and briefly wishing he’d got his chew on hand, he spent amoment thinking before− “…that’d be nice, actually.”

Connie beamed.

A little over a week later, Wash found himself running amission with Connie, South and Carolina. It was routine enough, simple compoundinfiltration. Connie was there to get them in; South was her back up; Carolinawas leading the team; and Wash was− well, honestly he wasn’t quite sure what hewas, Carolina’s back up? Did she even need back up?

Anyway, the mission was going fine. Connie and South movedon ahead to eliminate any locked doors or other obstacles whilst Carolina andWash hung back, keeping to the shadows. If all things went to plan, then Conniewould get herself and South into the target area without Carolina and Washneeding to come any further into the compound. Then it was only a matter ofclearing an LZ, which they could do before Connie and South made it back withno problem. Simple, really.

Of course, the second you dare to think a mission is goingto be simple, something goes wrong.

[We’re pinned down.]South’s message appeared on their HUDs moments after the radios went silent. [Not seen. Can’t move w/out being seen tho.]

“Dammit,” Carolina cursed, pulling up the map of thecomplex. Two blips marked Connie and South’s positions, barely 100 metres awayfrom the target. She typed at the same time a she talked to Wash, “If we cancause a distraction on the other side of the target, we might be able to draw them away from Connie and South.”

“Might,” Washsaid, gripping his rifle a little tighter. “Only might?”

Carolina somehow managed to look amused, something in theway she cocked her head, “It’ll work, rookie.”

“Is this that improvising thing Connie keeps warning meabout?” He had no idea how he felt so comfortable bantering with his CO likethis, but he guessed it had something to do with how he’d definitely seen herusing that chew he gave her after his first mission with the full team.

“Oh no, don’t worry, you’ll know when that happens.”

Well now, wasn’t that reassuring.

They had to move fast; South and Connie wouldn’t be able tostay hidden indefinitely, eventually someone would stumble across theirposition. Following side passages to circumvent the target room, they madetheir way around. It didn’t take long, but right before they reached the otherside, Carolina stopped and ducked into cover.

“Boss?” Wash said, peering around their cover to keep a lookout. “What’s happening?”

“Hold on a moment, I’m getting a transmission from command.”

If you asked Wash what came over him in that moment, he honestlywouldn’t have the answer. Willed by some unknown force, he opened his big mouthand−

“Yeah, well I’m on a trans mission and we need to get going,so hurry up.”

−was what came out.

The beat of silence that followed felt hours long; the slowturn of Carolina’s head back to him was agonising; and Wash was pretty surethat if the ground opened up and swallowed him right now he’d gladly accept thesweet embrace of death.

And then a spluttering sound came over the radio, quicklyfollowed by hysterical laughter.

“Holy fucking shit did−did the rookie just−” Apparently unable to finish her sentence, South burstinto another round of laughter interspersed with snorts and failed attempts tomuffle herself. In the background, Connie was heard halfway between laughingand trying to get South to shush, though it wasn’t long before the latter wasreplaced by the sounds of reloading guns and grabbing knives. “Position− Position compromised, fucking−holy shit, rookie, holy fucking shit.”

“I− I didn’t−” He shut his mouth, before he could sayanything else he’d regret. His face was on fire.

“I have to say, Wash,that’s a hell of a way to come out to more people,” Connie added, a grin inher tone. Wash’s face got hotter. “Ithink you’ve broken South.”

On cue, there was another burst of pitifully muffled laughter.Even as gunshots filled the air.

“It wasn’t even that funny!” Wash said, voice raising anoctave or two. “That was like− the worst pun ever, of all time!”

“Rookie you just−”a snort, “−fucking came out with a fucking pun, in the middle of a fucking mission− this is fucking hilarious. You totally fucking one-upped me.”

“You also revealed your position,” Carolina said (“Worth it!”) making Wash all but jump outof his skin. He held his breath, looking for some sign of how she felt aboutwhat had just happened− and then she chuckled. “Wash, never tell me to hurry up like that again. But that was pretty funny.”

Wash chuckled awkwardly.

“Okay so, we do stillsorta need back-up now, especially because South’s laughing is really messingup her shots.” She paused, “Though, actually, I think it’s also reallyconfusing the hostiles.”

Carolina shook her head, “We’re on our way.”

“That was totally fucking worth getting shot.”

“You have a very twisted set of priorities,” Carolina said,glancing at South out of the corner of her eye as she de-suited. Southshrugged, leaning back against her locker. She was already out of her suit, thewound left by the glancing bullet covered by gauze padding.

“Hey Wash, you recovered yet?” Connie said. She muffled agiggle behind her hand at the sight of Wash with his head in his hands. “Waaash?”

“Almost.” He inhaled, exhaled, then raised his head. The redin his cheeks had refused to fade, despite the time that had passed since the incident.“I can’t believe I did that.”

“Rookie, it was fucking hilarious. I mean, it was a fucking terrible joke, but it was fuckinghilarious,” South said, arms behind her head. “Somehow I think you fucking beathow I came out to everyone, asshole.”

“…How was that?”

“By calling us cocksuckers and promising to throw us out ofthe back of a Pelican if we said a thing,” Carolina said, chuckling. “Leftquite the impression. Especially since Agent West had fallen out of a Pelicanbay the week before.”

“…What?”

South nodded with exaggerated graveness, “Never found her.”

“You two are terrible,” Connie said with a roll of her eyes.Though she was still smiling. “They found her, you literally saw her last week withthe lower squads Wash, don’t worry. But yeah, it did leave quite the impression.”

“What did?” A voice came, catching everyone’s attention.Looking towards the doors, they saw the most of the remainder of the team−North,York and Maine−coming in from the direction of the training halls. York hadspoken.

“South’s speech about throwing us out of a Pelican,”Carolina said without missing a beat.

“Oooh, that.” They spread out to their respective lockers,Maine ruffling Wash’s hair on their way past, and there was a moment beforeYork paused and spoke again. “Wait, why are you talking about that?”

“Holy fuck, you will not belie−” A hand covered South’smouth, and Connie looked to Wash. Tilting her head, she hoped the silentquestion got across. Wash found his teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek,but he nodded anyway. He had no reason to be nervous now, right?

When the hand fell away, South continued as if nothing hadhappened, “−ve what the rookie pulled in the field. You think how I announced my shit to everyone wasfucking something? This little fucker made a trans pun! Not even a fucking good one! He just heard fucking ‘transmission’and ran with it!”

All eyes fell on Wash, and Wash chuckled awkwardly. Again.

“Heh. It just− slipped out?”

Maine stopped what they were doing as their shoulders beganto shake, a low, rumbling laughter coming from deep in their chest. Wash’scheeks darkened another several shades, and he elbowed them in the hip in ahalf-hearted defence. All that did was earn him a hair ruffle, to which hescrunched up his face.

“You know what? I’m not even surprised. Of course the nerdrookie comes out via a ridiculous joke. Of course he does,” York said, shakinghis head with a laugh. “You fit right in kid. Ridiculous shit like that is thenorm here, y’know. Wanna know what I did?”

Maine started to laugh harder.

York tossed a stress ball from his locker at their head, “Igreeted Maine in the locker room with ‘so, d’you come here often?’ First dayhere.”

“He has a type,” North threw in, pulling a fresh shirt overhis head.

“Do not.”

“Oh you do, shut up.” Connie grabbed the ball from the floorand tossed it back at York. “People who can kick your ass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” York said, nose inthe air. The ball smacked him right in the forehead. “Ow.”

“There’s no way that hurt.”

As the banter passed back and forth, Wash found himselfstarting to relax. His face was still burning hot−he’d never been so embarrassedin his life−but this was… nice. It feltsafe. No bad comments. No intrusive questions. Just a bunch of people with the sameterrible, gay sense of humour. He was far, far from alone.

“I made an ‘I can’t think straight’ joke,” Carolina said,wriggling her way into her sweats. Closing her locker, she turned to Wash withher arms folded. “Don’t worry, Wash. You fit right in.”

“Yeah, guess I do,” Wash said. Teeth catching his cheek, hetook a moment to consider his words. “I’m… glad everyone knows now, actually.It’s a real weight off my chest.”

Almost immediately, the entire room groaned.

“Wash, no.”

“That was just bad.”

Maine shoved his head.

Wash grinned.