#Stiles absolutely drives Lydia home after this because Jackson is off with someone else

[stilesssolo]

You write amazingly! Can you write one with #11 pleeease? Maybe some angst like a drunk confession and then a fight? That would be great! Thank you!

Thank you so much!! I have a feeling this is a little different than the fight and confession you imagined, but… I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you like it!! 

(Also for the other anon who asked for 11 as well :) )

#11: Things you said when you were drunk

Send me a prompt! 

It still felt a little surreal, that they were actually here.

When Scott had promised that this year was going to be different, Stiles had scoffed at his best friend. Sure, his promises sounded nice on paper, but Stiles didn’t really believe things would somehow magically change. Three months into sophomore year and Stiles had yet to stand corrected— despite the Jeep he drove them both to school in now, or the extra lacrosse practices they had put in, they were still very much the outcasts of Beacon Hills High School.

Not that that particularly bothered Stiles. He had Scott, and that was really all that mattered to him. As long as his best friend was still by his side, he could deal with anything else high school threw at them.

But still— Stiles had really thought this was all going to be some sort of sick joke, some prank Jackson was pulling in his usual douchey manner on the weaker players on the team. An hour into Danny’s pre-season party, though, they had yet to encounter any incidents, and Stiles was even sort of having fun. Scott and he never got invited to these types of things— hence, Stiles’s apprehension when Danny had invited them in the first place. Stiles had wanted to skip it altogether, sure there was some joke that they would end up as the punchline of. But despite his shitty taste in best friends, Danny was a pretty good guy, and the excitement in Scott’s eyes at actually being invited to something had forced Stiles to push aside his apprehensions and go to the party with his friend.

Danny did know how to throw a good party, that he had to admit. Stiles had never particularly been a fan of parties— social anxiety, and all that— but this one was more than tolerable, and everyone else seemed to be greatly enjoying themselves. It looked like the whole school was at his house, music thumping and making the walls practically vibrate. Scott and he had spent most of their time here with the other not-so-great lacrosse players, laughing and drinking and having fun, while avoiding Jackson and his clique as much as possible. So far, that was going pretty well— it was clear that the only reason that the rest of the team had been invited was because technically, it was a lacrosse team party, and Jackson seemed to want as little to do with the rest of the team as they did with Jackson.

Stiles was tempting fate, though, by continuously looking over at him. Not that it was Jackson he was interested in— no, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the girl at his side.

“You’re staring again,” Scott informed him, nudging Stiles with his elbow. Stiles turned towards his best friend, away from Jackson and Lydia on the couch, over on the other side of the room. “Stop looking. It’s just gonna make you feel worse.”

Stiles sighed, immediately ignoring his best friend’s advice and turning to look at Lydia again. She was practically in Jackson’s lap, her short dress riding up as she leaned over to whisper something in his ear. His hand rested on her thigh possessively, that smug grin still tugging at his lips as Lydia nudged his ear with her nose, her smile pretty and seductive. Seeing her with Jackson always aggravated the hell out of him, because Stiles knew Jackson didn’t appreciate the incredible girl he was dating as much as she deserved. He didn’t think anyone actually knew how brilliant Lydia was, behind that ditzy popular-girl facade. But Stiles saw the tests she snuck into her bag in Bio and Calculus when she thought no one was looking, and he knew she was so much smarter than everyone gave her credit for.

“Why is she with him?” he asked Scott, voice low, although the question was mainly rhetorical. “He’s such an ass. She can do so much better.”

“It’s like you always say,” Scott replied, sipping from his red solo cup. “Beautiful people flock together. But seriously, Stiles,” Scott continued. “Forget about it. There’s nothing you can do, and you’re just making yourself miserable.”

Grudgingly, Stiles agreed, turning back to the other lacrosse players Scott was talking to— other sophomores who were not as athletically inclined as people like Jackson and Danny. More time passed, and he forgot about Lydia. Mostly.

He didn’t really remember until much later, on a mission to refill his and Scott’s drinks. Not that Stiles was allowed to drink anymore at this point, because he’d promised to drive Scott home, and if his dad had to leave work to pick them up he’d be grounded for the rest of the year. Danny’s house was enormous, and Stiles had only ever been there once or twice before. He’d had no issue finding another cheap beer for Scott, but water— that was proving more difficult to find.

Finally, Stiles located the kitchen and the fridge, sighing in relief at the water dispenser on the front door. He put Scott’s beer on the counter, leaning against the fridge as he filled up his cup, staring aimlessly into the adjacent dining room. This area of the house was much more deserted, which was probably the way Danny wanted it. The gleaming wood of the dining room table and the creamy carpet covering the floor looked like it would be easily ruined if the partygoers did wander in.

Which was why he was surprised when he heard approaching footsteps, followed by sharp voices.

It took him about two seconds to recognize Jackson’s voice, because he was using that same condescending, annoyed tone he used on everyone at lacrosse practice. But it was the voice that followed, tearful and distressed, that made Stiles freeze, going silent and slinking to the side of the fridge, remaining out of sight.

“Just shut up!” Jackson snapped, entering the dining room and turning around, facing the doorway. He didn’t notice Stiles, still frozen in the kitchen. “Okay, Lydia? Just drop it!”

“Drop it?” Lydia snapped back, her hands poised on her hips angrily. Even from his spot, Stiles could see the fire in her eyes. “You want me to just ignore the fact that you’re blatantly checking out other girls while I’m with you?”

“Yes,” he replied, tone dangerous, “because it doesn’t mean anything! It’s not a big deal!”

“It is to me, okay?” Lydia retorted. “I’m your girlfriend, and I don’t appreciate— Jackson!” she snapped again, her voice almost desperate as she tried to get his attention. Stiles could hear the distress in her tone; he knew she was trying so hard to maintain that facade, and it was cracking anyways.

“Could you look at me?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Lydia!” he spat.

Lydia huffed, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “How about listen to me? Treat me like a goddamn human being? I’m not just some possession you can tote around, okay?”

“Are you sure about that?” Jackson retorted, and Stiles wanted nothing more in that moment than to run at Jackson and punch him in the face.

Lydia fell silent, crossing her arms, making herself smaller. When she did speak, her voice had lost its fire, and she sounded on the brink of breaking down.

“You know what, I don’t care. Go screw Abigail, for all I care. I’m so fucking done dealing with you.”

Jackson huffed, stalking out of the dining room, leaving Lydia by herself. She remained frozen, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. Stiles didn’t know what to do— he wanted to comfort her, tell her she deserved better, tell her she was amazing, that she shouldn’t have to put up with Jackson’s bullshit— but still, he couldn’t bring himself to walk forward, paralyzed by nerves or fear or… he didn’t know. His stomach churned and his heart ached for this poor, broken girl in front of him, but still, he couldn’t move.

Lydia unfroze then, uncrossing her arms and shaking her head slightly, like she was trying to forget what had just happened. Stiles watched as she ran a finger under her eye, brushing away a tear, before grabbing the drink she’d set on the table next to her and downing the whole thing in one sip. She tossed the empty cup in the trash can by the door, then stalked out of the dining room, her heels clicking on the wooden floors of the hallway.

Then, Stiles could finally move again.

He went and found Scott, who had begun to worry about where his friend had gone off to, handing him his beer absentmindedly. Stiles’s eyes surfed the crowd, and while he located Jackson, with some blonde freshman girl pressed up against him, he didn’t see Lydia anywhere.

“What is up with you, dude?” Scott said nearly an hour later, tearing Stiles from his routine search of the crowd for a flash of strawberry blonde hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, though his attention wasn’t completely on Scott. He caught a glimpse of red hair, a flash of a blue dress that looked like the one Lydia had on across the dance floor, and he finally fully turned to Scott. His best friend was looking at him in concern, his eyes asking a question Stiles desperately did not want to answer.

“I just need some air,” he said quickly, stepping away from the group of lacrosse players. “Uh, I’ll be back.” He just caught a glimpse of the look Scott was giving him before he was off, pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor and following where he thought Lydia had gone.

He ended up in the deserted kitchen again, no sign of Lydia. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, convincing him he was seeing things he wasn’t. Sighing, he wandered into the dining room, remembering how small and defeated Lydia had looked after Jackson had yelled at her. Jesus, he was such an idiot. Why hadn’t he done anything?

Stiles turned, defeated, to return to Scott in the other room, but through the glass sliding door, something caught his eye.

Lydia was sitting on the patio steps, strawberry blonde curls tumbling down her back and a half-empty bottle of liquor sitting next to her.

Without even thinking, Stiles walked over to the door, pulling it open slowly and stepping onto the patio. She immediately turned to look at him, her green eyes bleary and bloodshot, faint tear tracks running down her cheeks. The cold November breeze made him shiver in his hoodie, but before he could stop himself, he took another step closer to Lydia.

“Are you okay?” he asked her gently, despite the fact that she was clearly not okay.

“Stiles,” she slurred, eyes narrowing, and she raised one finger to point at him shakily. Jesus, she was really drunk. But he was a little taken aback that she knew his name— granted, they had gone to school together since kindergarten, but with the different circles they ran in… it still took him by surprise. His heart thumped erratically at the sound of his name on her lips, and Stiles swallowed, trying to calm his racing pulse.

“You know my name?” he asked her, tentatively sitting down next to her on the steps. She raised an eyebrow at him, a look of disbelief on her face.

“You’re in Bio with me,” she supplied. “And you always get yelled at for talking to the guy next to you.”

That made sense, because Scott sat next to him in Bio.

Lydia shivered, running one hand over her arm, goosebumps indicating how cold she was. Stiles hesitated, thinking of slipping his sweatshirt off. He wanted to give it to her, but would that freak her out, or make her mad? She was letting him sit next to her. Then again, she was really drunk right now.

“Are you okay?” Stiles settled on, repeating his previous question. Lydia looked at him, her expression skeptical.

“Why do you care?” she asked, and it broke Stiles’s heart to realize she wasn’t used to people caring about her wellbeing. She may have lots of pretty, popular friends, but Stiles was pretty sure none of them knew what Lydia was really like.

He almost huffed in laughter at himself, at the presumption that he knew what Lydia was really like. He only had what he observed, what he picked up on when no one else was looking. Even so, he still felt like he knew more about this girl than any of the people she generally spent her time with cared to learn.

“I was worried about you,” Stiles responded, finally deciding to just go with the truth. Chances were she wouldn’t remember any of this anyways.

“Why?” she demanded, her green eyes focused solely on him.

“I… saw your fight with Jackson,” Stiles admitted, and at his words, Lydia’s shoulders sagged, her whole body curling in on itself, making her smaller. He saw the light sort of fade from her eyes, her expression glaze over, as she stared across Danny’s backyard, her lips in a thin line. The illuminated pool lapped silently in the chilly breeze, and the reflection from the turquoise water made her face look even paler.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop— I was in the kitchen,” Stiles quickly interjected, worrying now that she would assume he had been stalking her or something. His heart was still beating too fast; clearly he was still in shock from sitting this close to Lydia freaking Martin. Their knees were practically touching, and Stiles thought he might actually pass out if she got any closer.

“He does that all the time,” Lydia said, her voice low and her words a little slurred. “Looks at other girls when I’m with him.” She shook her head slightly, still staring at the pool. “I should just let it go.”

“No,” Stiles immediately responded. He wanted to continue— tell her how incredible she was, how she deserved better than Jackson, deserved someone who would care about her, think about her, treat her with respect— but he found his words stuck in his throat. Even though she was drunk, even though she probably wouldn’t remember any of this, he still couldn’t bring himself to admit his feelings to her. Partly because he was scared, but partly because that would make this about him. And Lydia didn’t deserve that.

“I should,” Lydia mused, sighing exaggeratedly, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on her knee. “It’s just so much easier when Jackson’s not mad. So much less tiring.”

Stiles swallowed, his heartbeat still frantic. He didn’t know what to say, so he just stayed quiet, letting her know he would listen if she wanted to talk.

“I’m just… so sick of feeling invisible,” she said, sighing. Her voice was small and lonely.  “Jackson never looks at me. My friends never care about me. Everyone knows who I am, but no one knows me.”

Stiles sat frozen, shocked by her words. It struck him how he still didn’t really know this girl. They’d gone to school together for years; he had been in love with her since the third freaking grade, had always listened and paid attention to her, but he didn’t really know this person beside him at all. He knew she was smart, and he assumed the people that she surrounded herself with were too selfish to be counted on, but it broke his heart to hear how lonely she was. Lydia Martin, queen bee of school, felt like she had no one in the world.

Stiles wanted to fix that, somehow, but he didn’t have the slightest clue how.

Lydia shivered in the chilly night air again, and Stiles tugged off his hoodie this time. He didn’t know how to make Lydia feel not so alone, but he guessed that the least he could do was try to be here for her, in this moment.

“Here,” he said, offering her the sweatshirt. She just regarded him, eyes still glazed, before she hiccuped loudly, reminding Stiles exactly how intoxicated she was.

This isn’t anything special, his brain reminded him. Don’t let this go to your head, or think this means she cares about you. She’s just drunk and upset and you’re available.

Regardless, Lydia took his sweatshirt hesitantly, wrapping herself in it. It swallowed her whole, and Stiles’s heart sped up even more, looking at the girl of his dreams wrapped in his hoodie.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles offered again, looking at Lydia. She looked so small, huddled up here on the steps. So human. It lowered the pedestal he had her up on, just the smallest bit, seeing her this vulnerable. “Jackson’s an ass.”

Lydia laughed drunkenly at that, her curls bobbing up and down as she nodded. “Yeah, he is,” she agreed. “But I probably deserve that.” She sighed again. “And I love him.”

Stiles had been about to cut in, about to tell her she absolutely didn’t deserve that, but her last statement made him freeze. Like it or not, Lydia was with Jackson, and there was nothing he could do to change that, as much as he wished he could. And anyways, it wasn’t like Lydia was going to leave Jackson for him.

Still, regardless of how he felt about her— Stiles just wished she could be happy.

“Thanks, Stiles,” she sighed, turning her head to look at him. Stiles gulped, meeting her gaze— even glazed over, her green eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She gave him a little smile, warm and grateful, and his heart practically leapt out of his chest. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course,” Stiles said, automatically. Anything he could possibly do to make Lydia feel better, to help her realize how absolutely incredible she was, how much she deserved in this world— anything he could do, he would do it. And if that meant sitting next to her on Danny’s back steps in the chilly November air and comforting her while she was drunk… Stiles would happily do that every day, every minute, for the rest of his life.

#stydia #stydia fic #my writing #fic prompts #teen wolf #i still don't know how I feel about this #but I couldn't get the idea to leave me alone #also; in case you were wondering #Stiles absolutely drives Lydia home after this because Jackson is off with someone else #and she keeps stiles's sweatshirt #she sleeps in it that night because its warm and comfy and smells good #and she never really knows where this sweatshirt came from because it's nothing jackson would ever wear and she doesnt remember that night #but it becomes her go-to comfort clothes whenever she's feeling crappy #Stiles notices this when they get closer between seasons 5 and 6 and almost passes out #and she goes completely red when she realizes its HIS and he tells her how he gave it to her that night #but she never stops wearing it #Stiles not so secretly loves it #ANYWAYS #asks #answered #anonymous

[stilinskishit]

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 5

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison​​ @purple286 @multifandxm353​ @bralessandflawless

A/N: Night School is one of my fave episodes but also has a lot happening so I had to cut it down some! Really excited for the next chapter though :)

MASTERLIST

Chapter 5: Punching

(Season 1, Episodes 5, 6, 7)

After their free period trip, which included a drugged Lydia getting way too close to Stiles and a terrifying picture found on her phone, Ramie and Stiles headed to the Stilinski’s to try and get a hold of Scott and tell him what they found on Lydia’s phone.

“That has to be the alpha,” Stiles told Ramie, slamming the door to his room behind the two of them.

“Obviously,” Ramie replied, dropping her backpack on the ground. “20 bucks Scott is with Allison. It’s her birthday.”

“I don’t care who he’s with, he just needs to answer the phone,” Stiles said, his phone up to his ear as he paced back and forth across his room. “Hey, it’s me again,” He said to Scott’s voicemail. “Look Raim and I found something and we don’t know what to do, just please call back. Or else, I’ll kill you.”

“Stiles,” Ramie sighed. Stiles gave her a death glare and she rolled her eyes back at him, laying back onto his bed. Stiles sat down on his desk chair, laying his head on the back of it.  A knock on his door made them both jump as Stiles’ dad entered the room.

“Ramie, hi,” Noah said, giving her a smile. “Didn’t know you were here. Where’s Scott?”

“Long story,” Stiles huffed. “What’s up?”

“Please tell me I’m going to hear good news at this parent teacher conference tonight,” Noah sighed. Ramie scoffed.

“Depends on how you define good news,” Stiles said.

“I define that as you getting straight A’s with no behavioral issues,” Noah said, glancing at Ramie who now had her hand over her mouth.

“You might want to rethink that definition,” Stiles said, pulling a face as his Dad sighed again. Noah looked between Ramie, who was trying to hold back a laugh, and his son.

“Enough said,” Noah nodded, leaving the room. He went to close the door behind him but then glanced between Stiles and Ramie, and opened it all the way. Stiles didn’t notice this at all, but Ramie did. Did Noah really think something was going to happen between her and Stiles? The boy caught her attention, pushing away her thoughts as he checked his phone again, groaning.

“Stiles I should go,” Ramie got up off the bed.

“What? Why?”

“My Mom’s home tonight because of conferences and I told her I’d be home for dinner,” Ramie told him as she grabbed her backpack. “I’ll call you if I hear from Scott, okay?” Stiles grunted and Ramie walked over to him, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before leaving his room and heading home.

…

Stiles and Ramie were already in class when Scott showed up the next morning. Stiles was blaming Scott for his Dad getting hurt the night before, and had offered to bring Ramie to school, but not Scott. Ramie glanced behind her at Stiles when Scott entered the room. Stiles saw Scott and rolled his eyes, blowing a sharp breath of air out of his mouth.

“Play nice,” Ramie raised her eyebrows at Stiles, who ignored her. Ramie heard the two boys bickering throughout class about Stiles’ dad and Derek, but kept her head towards the front of the room. However, at the end of the day when Ramie was waiting for Stiles to drive her home after the detention he and Scott had earned themselves, the two seemed back to normal. Over the course of the day, Stiles and Scott had figured out that Allison actually helped control Scott’s ability to hold back a shift, not make it worse as they previously thought. It’s like she held him down, kept him grounded.

Stiles and Scott took off after dropping Ramie at home, who decided she was going to stay out of whatever they were getting themselves into that night and do homework. However,  when she got a text from Stiles at 10 that night saying he needed to see her at the school, Ramie of course went, against her better judgement. She told herself she was going in case something serious was going on, but she knew deep down she was in so deep with him, like Danny had said.

She called Lydia to ask for a ride, since her Mom had the car at work and Stiles was the only other person who ever drove Ramie anywhere. Lydia was with Jackson, much to Ramie’s dismay, but a ride was a ride so she accepted Lydia’s offer for the two of them to pick her up. When they three of them pulled up to the school, they noticed the front doors open and swaying slightly in the wind. Ramie knew back entrances that didn’t usually get locked, so she figured she would get in through one of those, until she saw the doors wide open. And something felt off.

“Why did you come here again?” Jackson asked, getting out of the car with Ramie. Lydia gave a huff and unbuckled, quickly following the two of them around to the front of the car.

“Stiles asked me to,” Ramie said, eyeing the school, wondering if maybe Stiles was waiting for her in the front hall, which was why the doors were open. She started walking towards the school, the other two following her.

“He asked you to meet him here, alone?” Lydia asked, a smirk crossing her face. Ramie rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure Scott’s here too,” She shot a glare towards Lydia. Ramie had never explicitly told Lydia about her feelings for Stiles, but the strawberry blonde wasn’t as clueless as she pretended to be in front of Jackson.

“Ew, you’re gonna hook up with that spaz with your brother around?” Jackson raised his eyebrows at Ramie.

“No!” Ramie nearly yelled. “Stiles and I are not hooking up, now, or ever. He’s my best friend.” “He totally likes you,” Lydia nearly sang. Ramie ignored her.

“Yeah, I’ve definitely seen him check out your ass a time too many,” Jackson scoffed. Ramie stopped on the stairs and turned around, giving Jackson a glare. He shrugged.

“You’re delusional,” Ramie nodded towards Jackson. He scoffed back. “He has a fat crush on your girlfriend, not me.” Ramie turned on her heel and started walking back towards the school again. Ramie had told Lydia many times that Stiles had a crush on her, but apparently Jackson hadn’t been let in on this information, because Ramie could hear him bickering with Lydia about Stiles as they made their way to the school.

“You guys can go now, I’ll get a ride home with Stiles,” Ramie said, turning when she go to the top of the stairs. Jackson went to turn and leave but Lydia grabbed his arm.

“Absolutely not,” She said, pulling his arm as she walked up the rest of the stairs. “This feels weird, I’m not letting you go in by yourself.” Ramie opened her mouth to protested but Lydia walked past her, holding Jackson’s hand and dragging him into the school. Ramie followed the couple with a sigh, looking around the lobby. It looked like no one was around.

“Stiles?” Ramie called into the darkness. Her voice echoed through the empty lobby.

“I don’t like this,” Lydia stated.

“You’re being dramatic,” Jackson rolled his eyes at his girlfriend. Ramie shushed them both, thinking she heard something. Lydia shrieked as someone burst through the doors to the left, that lead further down the hall. It was Stiles and Scott, looking very confused. It was Ramie’s turn to jump as a door burst open behind her, the one that lead to the pool. However again, it was someone they knew, Allison.

“What are you guys doing here?” Scott looked at all of them.

“You asked me to come,” Ramie and Allison said at the same time, Allison looking at Scott and Ramie looking at Stiles. Both boys furrowed their brows.

“I just got dragged here against my will,” Jackson said, earning a glare from everyone in the group. Ramie pulled out her phone and showed Stiles and Scott the text she received from Stiles, Allison doing the same. They both were exactly the same, yet both of the boys said they never sent it.

“Can we just go now, I’m freaked out,” Lydia said, walking towards the doors. Before anyone could answer, there was banging coming from above them. Ramie saw Allison grab Scott’s hand and Stiles’s stepped closer to Ramie, looking at Scott.

“Run!” Scott yelled, turning to run down the hallway. Stiles grabbed Ramie’s wrist, tugging her after them and Jackson and Lydia followed behind. The six sprinted through the school, looking for somewhere to hide. Ramie didn’t look behind her as Stiles dragged her along, but she definitely heard growling from whatever it was that was following them. Ramie assumed it must be the alpha. They finally rushed into a classroom, throwing things up against the door to block out whatever was chasing them.

“Guys,” Stiles called, no one listening as they kept stacking desks and chairs in front of the door. Ramie turned to him, her gaze following his. He was staring at the opposite wall, which was entirely made of windows. Glass certainly wouldn’t keep out what was following them. Ramie and Stiles both continued to try and get everyone else’s attention, which didn’t work until Stiles yelled at all of them.

“Great job guys, really, great work, but what should we do about the 20 foot wall of windows?” He dramatically gestured towards the wall.

“Shit,” Jackson muttered. And Ramie nodded, as if to agree with him.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on because I’m really freaked out,” Allison said, near tears and clutching Scott’s arm. Lydia was clinging to Jackson and Ramie suddenly felt awkward, taking a step away from Stiles and sitting down on top of a desk, rubbing her hands over her face. Scott gave Stiles a panicked look, walking over to the desk next to Ramie’s and leaning over, putting his elbows on it and placing his head in his hands.

“Somebody killed the janitor,” Stiles said suddenly, walking forward. Ramie noticed his hand scratching at the side of his jeans and knew he was either extremely nervous, or lying. Or both. Lydia let out a squeak that almost sounded like a “what?” “Yeah, he’s dead.” Stiles continued, Scott visibly shaking and not saying a word. Ramie hopped off the desk and walked over to him, rubbing his back.

“Who did it?” Allison asked.

“No this was supposed to be over,” Lydia stuttered. “After the mountain lion this-“

“Don’t you get it, there was no mountain lion,” Jackson interrupted her.

“Who is it?” Allison said, a little too loudly for Ramie’s liking, considering they were supposed to be hiding. Allison’s eyes didn’t leave the back of Scott’s head, who was still breathing heavy despite Ramie’s attempt to comfort him. She could see he was on the verge of tears. “Scott!”

“Uh, I, I don’t know,” Scott stammered, turning around but not looking anyone in the eye. “If we go out there he’s gonna kill us.”

“Us? Who?” Lydia questioned, still clung to Jackson.

“Who is it?” Allison demanded, looking between Scott and Stiles. Stiles’ mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly thinking of something to say.

“It’s Derek Hale,” Scott said after a second. Ramie’s head snapped to him, probably too quickly. She made eye contact with Stiles, who looked just as shocked as she was. “It’s been Derek the whole time, he’s killed everyone. And if we don’t get out of here, he’s going to kill us too.”

…

After Lydia attempted to call the police, much to Stiles’ dismay, and failed, Ramie, Stiles, and Scott were bickering as quietly as possible in the corner of the classroom.

“Derek? That's the best you could do?” Ramie glared at her brother. “You could’ve just said it was a stranger.”

“It doesn’t matter, Derek’s dead anyways so they’ll never know the difference,” Scott explained.

“Dead?” Ramie said, probably a bit too loudly. Stiles reached out quickly, putting a hand over her mouth. He dropped it after a second and gave the two boys a sheepish look. “The alpha killed him?” The boys nodded at her.

“Okay, assheads,” Jackson stepped towards the trio. “How about Stiles just calls his useless Dad and he can get us out of here.” Stiles rolled his neck and tightened his jaw, giving Jackson a glare.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Ramie said, stepping towards Jackson.

“He’s right,” Scott said to Stiles as he grabbed Ramie’s arm, not allowing her to step closer to Jackson.. “Tell him the truth if you need to.”

“I’m not having my Dad come here just to watch him get his head ripped off,” Stiles spat back at Scott, clearly getting frustrated. He shook his head, stepping away from Scott.

“Alright, give me the phone,” Jackson stepped forward, grabbing Stiles arm. The second Jackson grabbed Stiles’ arm, Stiles turned, punching Jackson in the face, hard.

“Jackson!” Allison yelled, running forward to help him while Scott pushed Stiles back, holding him away from Jackson. Ramie just stood there with her mouth open. She glanced at Lydia, who was looking at Allison and Jackson, who were now both crouched on the floor, Allison’s arm around Jackson. Stiles caught Ramie’s eye and she gave him a look that she hoped he understood. He seemed to, because he pulled out his phone, dialing his Dad, but only getting his voicemail.

As Stiles was trying to leave a message for his Dad banging began on the door. Ramie took off first, leaving the classroom through a different exit and running down the hallway, finding another classroom to hide in, the rest following her.

“We need to do something,” Jackson said after they locked and barricaded the door in the new classroom.

“What about this?” Ramie was pulling on the handle of a door to the roof, but it was locked. “We could go up the roof and down the fire escape, we’d be in the parking lot quickly.”

“It’s dead-bolted,” Stiles pointed, at the door.

“I’ll go get the key off the janitor,” Scott said without hesitation.

“Are you crazy?” Ramie looked at her brother. “You’re not going out there.”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Scott said, walking towards Allison, who looked like she could cry any second at Scott’s new announcement. “I’ll go get the keys and then we’ll be out of here."

“You need to at least bring some sort of weapon,” Allison nearly begged. Scott looked around, grabbing a pointer off the desk. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Ramie would’ve laughed out loud at her brother’s stupidity.

“Well it’s better than nothing!” Scott said, in protest to the dumbfounded looks everyone was giving him as he waved the pointer in front of him.

“There’s gotta be something else,” Stiles said, craning his neck to look around the classroom. Ramie noticed his right hand was shoved in his pocket since he punched Jackson.

“There is,” Lydia said, nodding towards the cabinet in the corner of the room, which held many different chemicals.

Minutes later, Lydia had made Scott a self-igniting molotov cocktail to bring with him as a weapon. Scott left a crying Allison and shaking Ramie behind, but went out to face the alpha. Lydia and Jackson sat with Allison while Stiles paced. Ramie looked up to see him with his back to the rest, inspecting his hand, flinching a bit when he tried to make a fist. As worried as she was for her brother, Ramie figured patching Stiles up could be a distraction.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this,” Ramie said to him, grabbing his good arm and dragging him to the back of the classroom, where there was a sink.

“Doing what?”

“Punching people,” Ramie made eye contact with him, giving him a disapproving look.

“Jackson deserved it,” He muttered. Ramie hummed in agreement, pulling Stiles’ hand under the water. His cuts from punching Derek had opened back up, and his hand definitely had bruising. Ramie was quiet as she dried his hand, bandaging it up carefully. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, but she didn’t dare look up. If she met his honey colored eyes, she would turn to mush instantly, and with everything happening at the moment, she was more worried about Scott. Stiles mumbled a small thank you when Ramie finished.

“You’re always taking care of me,” Stiles chuckled. “Isn’t it supposed to be the guy taking care of the girl.”

“You’re my best friend Stiles,” Ramie placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll always do whatever I can to help you. And fuck those stupid gender roles anyways.” Stiles chuckled again and followed Ramie back towards the front of the room.

…

When Scott and Ramie got home, Ramie filled Scott in on what happened with Jackson, how he had a screaming fit like he was in pain after the alpha roared, and then was defensive about something weird on his neck, and Scott told Ramie what happened when he encountered the alpha and nearly killed all of them, but held himself back because of Allison. Scott also told Ramie that Allison had broken up with him once they had made it safely to the parking lot, since Stiles’ dad and other officers finally arrived. Allison had told Scott she didn’t feel like she could trust him. It seemed like the only good news was that Scott’s boss was not the alpha, and of course that they had all made it out alive.

Scott and Ramie stayed up late that night, talking. Scott finally told Ramie everything that had happened the day before from figuring out Allison was basically Scott’s anchor, to Scott keying a car and what happened with Derek.

“I miss talking like this,” Ramie said to him after they had caught each other up on everything. “We used to be inseparable and now sometimes I feel like we barely talk.”

“This wolf stuff is kind of ruining my life,” Scott sighed.

“You’re handling it way better than I could,” Ramie told him. “I would’ve ran away and lived in a wolf den far off in the woods by now.”

“You’d never leave me and Stiles behind,” Scott teased.

“Nah, I don’t need you guys,” Ramie shrugged, laughing with her brother. It was the first time she had seen him smile all night. “Allison will come around. I promise.” She told him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. He gave her a weak smile that didn’t look too convincing, and headed off to bed, Ramie following.

#stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x OC #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanficiton #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #jackson whittemore #derek hale #teen wolf season 1

[selfignitingimagines]

Lydia- Because I Had You

Request- Hi I love your writing, they’re my favorite! Can I have a Lydia x girl reader based on the song Because I Had You by Shawn Mendes? Maybe a happy ending? But it’s completely up to you! Thank you!

A/N- Coincidentally, I have both quit my shitty job and finished school, so guess who has time to write more imagines! I know this one has been in my inbox for a while, and now that I’ve got the time, I’m working on clearing it out. Next up is a Stiles imagine!

You were scrolling through your phone, not so patiently waiting for the Starbucks line to thin out as you waited to order. You tapped your foot to the upbeat music and sent a quick text to your cousin Derek, letting him know you would be at his loft in twenty minutes.

It had been over a year since you left Beacon Hills with your other cousin Cora, and the flight from Canada, combined with the flight back, had sapped the energy right out of you. You normally wouldn’t have stopped so close to Derek’s, but you were fading fast, and Cora wasn’t there to keep you awake on the drive over.

She had opted to stay in Canada for this trip, even though you had desperately tried to convince her.

“Last time I went home, I was trapped in a vault for three months,” she had reminded you. “I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to go back.”

You eventually relented and caught the plane back home alone.

Up until Cora decided to leave Beacon Hills, you had never lived anywhere else. After Deucalion and his alphas had been defeated and the sacrifices ended, Cora told you and Derek she was planning on leaving.

It seemed like a cruel joke at first. To believe she was dead for six years and get her back, only to have her disappear again would have broken your heart. After losing Laura a year earlier, that wasn’t a blow you were prepared to take.

“I’m coming with you,” you had announced suddenly, a couple days after Cora made plans to leave.

She had quirked her eyebrows up at you from where she sat on Derek’s couch and shut her book. “You want to go to Canada? It’s so far from home.”

Cora was met with the roll of your eyes. “No shit. After everything that’s happened here, I’m open to something new.”

“You sure there’s not something you want to stay for?”

At that you had paused. You knew the something she was referring to, and it was one five-foot-three, strawberry blonde genius.

You were older than Lydia by a year, but after Scott was bitten, you became a lot more interested in the budding werewolf in the sophomore class. After Derek ordered you to keep an eye on him, you were somewhat forced to hang out with him and his friends. Luckily they turned out to be pretty cool.

You liked everyone except for Jackson, but even then, you got the feeling that he wasn’t really a part of the group. Scott was mostly focused on making sure he didn’t expose everyone’s supernatural secret. Over time, Jackson left for England, Erica and Boyd went missing, and you and Lydia became incredibly close.

When she was trying to figure out what she was in the midst of Jennifer’s sacrifices, you were by her side the whole time. You were actually the first person she called whenever she found a body. Up until that point, it was no secret that you felt something for her, but you had never said anything. She had never asked, but if she had, you would have been prepared to tell the truth.

The night Jennifer tried to strangle her, you had rushed to Lydia in the parking lot. Scott and Stiles were preoccupied with figuring out where Jennifer had taken the Sheriff, and rescue crews had swarmed the school after the music teacher had been killed. Despite the commotion, you and Lydia actually had a moment alone.

You were frazzled and worried, and you held tightly to her hand as she sat in one of the ambulances that were called. She was silent for a long time, and you didn’t blame her. Someone had just tried to kill her, and if the Sheriff hadn’t been there, she might have succeeded.

“I know you might not be ready to talk about it,” you had told her quietly. “But I’m here if you do.”

Lydia had taken a deep breath, looked over at you with wide green eyes and said “I don’t want to talk.”

Then she leaned over, cupped your cheek with her hand, and kissed you fiercely.

You had only dated for a few weeks before your cousin announced she was leaving. At that point, you were torn between leaving someone you loved or losing Cora all over again. It was the hardest decision you had ever made, and while you loved Ottawa, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the wrong one.

Now, standing in the line for coffee, you were startled when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“The first thing we need to do is start on your application essay. Community college standards aren’t crazy high, but you still need to work on your writing.”

You turned around, eyes going wide while you watched those familiar red locks blow in the spring wind as she walked through the door. Lydia carried a laptop case in her hand, and she was followed by a taller brunette, carrying two backpacks. You knew one of them was Lydia’s.

“Do you think I can actually get in?” she was asking.

“With practice, absolutely,” she said, smiling up at her. “And my help, of course.”

Her eyes scanned the room, and before you could even think about turning away, they landed on you. Lydia’s face fell, and the laptop case slipped from her hands. The other girl caught it before it could hit the floor, but followed Lydia’s gaze and glowered at you suspiciously.

Lydia quickly reached for the other girl’s hand and grasped it tightly as she straightened up. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with one hand and lead the girl over to the line.

“Y/n,” she said smoothly. “How do you like Ottawa?”

“It’s great,” you told her honestly. “Peaceful.”

You wanted to say more, to maybe tell her that she would love it, and that it would be so much better if she had come with you. But Lydia had turned down the offer a year and a half ago, and it looked like she was perfectly happy where she was.

“Who are you?” the girl next to her asked abruptly.

Lydia squeezed her hand. “This is Y/n. She’s Derek’s cousin, remember?”

“Oh,” Malia said, her eyes going wide.

“And Y/n,” Lydia began. “This is Malia-”

“Peter’s daughter,” you cut her off. “You look like him.”

Malia scowled. “That’s the only thing we have in common.”

“Trust me, that’s a good thing. I guess that makes me your second cousin, and uh, you’re Lydia’s girlfriend, right?”

Malia opened her mouth, but Lydia smiled brightly. “Yes!”

Malia looked over at her and nodded, smiling wordlessly.

You couldn’t hide the way your expression darkened, but you smiled at them anyway. “That’s great. You seem really happy.”

You felt an all too familiar ache in your chest, and looked back over your shoulder at the counter. You were exhausted, but you weren’t ready to stand there talking to Lydia for more than a few minutes, not with her new girlfriend by her side.

You had spent the past year and a half trying to distract yourself with other girls, but none of those relationships had ever panned out. They could never be Lydia, and you were certain that, even after a year and a half, you weren’t able to love anyone else.

“You know what?” you suggested. “Why don’t you guys take my spot in line? I’m already late getting to Derek’s.”

Lydia frowned. “Are you sure? You look exhausted, Y/n.”

You nodded vigorously, but you knew they were unconvinced. You had never inherited the Hale poker face. “Go ahead. It looks like you guys are gonna have a long night of studying. It was nice to meet you, Malia.”

“Y/n, wait,” Lydia said, but your eyes were already watering.

You rushed out of the coffee shop, and headed straight to your car. Lydia had looked happy, but when she saw you, her entire demeanor changed. This trip was supposed to help you make the decision of whether to come back or not, but by the way Lydia had looked at you, she might not even want you in Beacon Hills. If that was true, was it even worth coming home?

-----

“If I ask you what’s wrong, will you stop moping on my couch?”

You glanced up at Derek from where you had buried yourself in a pile of blankets. “I’m tired.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You’re a terrible legal guardian.”

Derek huffed and sat down in the armchair next to you. “You don’t actually think that.”

“No I don’t,” you grumbled. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s Lydia, isn’t it?”

You frowned at him. “How did you know that?”

He shrugged. “She’s the only person you’ve ever been this upset over.”

You sighed and sat up, causing the mountain of blankets to cascade onto the floor. “I saw her in the coffee shop this morning. When she saw me, she just looked...horrified.”

“Did you talk?” he asked thoughtfully.

“A little, but she was with someone else. They were holding hands and studying together and...and she looked really happy.”

“Did you-”

Before he could finish, a sharp knocking on the door echoed through the loft.

“Expecting someone?”

Derek’s brow furrowed. “No. I’d better see who it is though.”

He rose from the armchair and walked over to the door. Once he got closer, he paused and turned to you with raised eyebrows. “It’s Lydia.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god. You can’t let her in.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Derek, please!”

He huffed. “Okay, go upstairs.”

You shoved the remaining blankets off of you and rushed upstairs. There, you hid just behind the door frame and listened as you heard the telltale screech of the loft door opening.

“Hey, Lydia. What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Y/n,” she told him. “She’s staying with you, right?”

“She is, but she’s out right now,” Derek lied smoothly. “Is there something you want me to tell her?”

There was pause. “I saw her this morning in Starbucks. She saw me with Malia and...I just really need to talk to her. When is she coming back?”

“Wait. Malia was the girl she saw you with?”

“Yeah. Did she say something to you?”

“I think you two need to talk,” he told her.

His voice grew too soft for you to hear, and you listened as his footsteps crossed the loft. The door screeched open once more, and you froze. Was he leaving?

After a few seconds, Lydia’s soft voice called out. “Y/n, I know you’re here.”

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You should have known you couldn’t trust Derek.

You popped your head out from behind the door and plastered a bright smile onto your face. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming.”

She let out a tired sigh. That was when you really got a good look at her. Her red hair was wild and curly, spilling out of the bun piled on her head. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her cheeks were splotchy. She looked exhausted.

“Lydia? Are you okay?”

You felt yourself drifting down the stairs toward her. “Hey, are you okay?”

She took a deep breath and ignored your question.

“Was it worth it?” she asked softly. “Leaving?”

You were speechless. On your flight home, you figured Lydia might confront you about this. You just didn’t realize it would be so soon.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I was sick of fighting for my life. I’ve been fighting since I was eight years old.”

“So you just ran,” she whispered bitterly.

You paused and looked down in shame. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“Well you got what you wanted,” she told you. “You stayed out of it. You stayed out of everything. Stiles getting possessed, the assassins, the crazy, giant werewolf that tore apart the school. You missed all of it. You didn’t even come back for Allison’s funeral.”

Shame burned through you. That was probably the thing you were most angry at yourself for. You wanted to return, but you had made the choice to leave in the first place. There was a part of you that wasn’t sure if you should intrude.

“I wanted to,” you said softly. “Lydia, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t know what to do?” she demanded. “How do you think I felt?”

Her eyes were watering now, and she was trembling with anger.

“I felt her die,” she told you softly. “And after she was gone, I wanted you there so badly. But you never came back. You’re not even planning on staying, are you? You’re just going to leave again.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But Lydia, you never needed me. You’re so strong. And now you have Malia.”

She blinked in confusion. “Malia?”

“She’s your girlfriend now, right?”

She scoffed. “God, no.”

“But you said-”

“I was trying to make you jealous,” she admitted to you. “And I was surprised when it worked. When you left Beacon Hills I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.”

You blanched at her. “Lydia, no. No way. I left because I needed a change, but I asked you to come with me! I wanted you to come with me...more than anything.”

“I couldn’t leave our friends,” she told you. “And I wouldn’t have left you. I was in love with you, Y/n.”

“I was in love with you too,” you informed her. “I’m still-”

You caught yourself before you could finish. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait,” she said suddenly. “You’re still what?”

“It doesn’t matter. I know you’re happy-”

“You don’t know anything,” she cut you off. “Just tell me the truth, Y/n. You’re still what?”

You let out a breath. “I’m still in love with you. I tried to forget about you. But there was never anyone else, Lydia. I could never love anyone but you. I know I left you. I know you probably hate me now...but you’re right. I ran away. Derek always says that once you start running, you don’t stop. That’s why I didn’t come back. I couldn’t stop.”

“And now?” she asked, her green eyes boring into yours.

“Now it’s time to stop.”

You crossed the distance between you in one stride, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her close.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed.

She stood up on her tiptoes, and it was only then that you realized she wasn’t wearing heels. That was the first indicator that there was something different about Lydia. She had been through so much in the past year, and when you looked into her bright green eyes, you could tell that something had changed. But whatever she had been through, she was still Lydia. She was still yours.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head,” you whispered against her lips. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

She smiled. “Don’t.”

Then she kissed you, pressing her red lips against yours in a way that would definitely leave lipstick stains.

You were definitely coming home.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #lydia martin imagines #lydia martin

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 19

You can read it on AO3, or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

“Breathe, kiddo,” Dad says. “Just breathe.”

And Stiles gives Dad an unsteady nod and does his best to obey even while a weight presses down on his lungs, and he watches as Lydia leads Derek away through the headstones.

There’s a plan, Stiles guesses—either a clean-up or a cover-up, but he’s too tired and too shaky to listen to what Dad’s saying right now, let alone puzzle it out. He’s going into shock, probably, blood flooding into his core and leaving his extremities numb and trembling. Leaving his brain struggling to make connections and his synapses struggling to fire. Combined with his adrenaline dump, Stiles is twitching like a junkie desperate for his next fix.

He crouches down in front of a headstone—the letters too weathered to read—and drags his fingers against the shape of the cross carved into the marble.  

“Stiles?” Stella crouches down beside him, a tiny girl in an over-sized plaid shirt.

Stiles lets his relief carrying him to the ground. The grass is damp with dew, but Stiles doesn’t care about his wet ass. He opens his arms and Stella climbs into his lap. Her tear-stained face is hot against his neck. He curls his shaking fingers in her already-tangled hair.

Just breathe.

He watches as a black SUV drives through the cemetery. Chris’s SUV. Jackson climbs out of the driver’s seat. As far as Stiles can tell, Lydia and Derek aren’t with him.

Jackson hauls a tarp out the back of the SUV, and Stiles turns his face away. When he looks up again, Jackson and Chris are loading Peter’s wrapped corpse into the back of Jackson’s Porsche.  

“Breathe,” Stiles whispers to himself.

Jackson drives the Porsche out, leaving Chris and Dad standing by the Hale memorial.

Stiles hears the wail of sirens in the distance on the cold night air.

He closes his eyes and tries to remember to breathe.

When he opens them again, the cemetery is full of red and blue flashing lights, and Dad is leaning over him.

“No such thing as werewolves,” Dad tells them both.

“Got it,” Stiles mumbles, blinking away the black spots in front of his vision.

Just breathe.

***

It’s hours before Stiles gets home. It’s almost dawn, and the darkness is starting to soften into gray. Stiles and Stella have been to the hospital, been to the station, and finally they’re home again. Stiles was half-afraid he and Stella would have been interrogated, but they hadn’t been. It’d take a brave deputy to get between Sheriff Stilinski and his clearly-traumatized kids.

When he gets home, Stiles wants nothing more than to turn around and head out again, to try to find Derek, to see if he’s okay—but how can he be okay? He’s the only Hale left now—but he doesn’t know where Derek is, and Derek doesn’t have a phone.

“Lucky it’s Saturday,” Dad says, “because no way would either of you be going to school today.”

He pulls the comforter down on his bed and nods toward it.

Stella clambers into bed and buries her face in Dad’s pillow.  

Stiles wants to do the same. So what if it’d make him feel like a little kid, needing the comfort of Dad’s bed after a scary dream? Because it turns out Stiles isn’t as grown-up as he thinks, and that nightmares can absolutely be real.

Dad sits down on the edge of the bed and rubs Stella’s back gently. Then he lifts his free arm in invitation, and Stiles sits down beside him and leans against him. He’s too wired to lie down and sleep, but it’s nice to sit here with Dad while Stella, exhausted, dozes off.

“So, werewolves,” Dad says quietly. “Shit.”

“Swear jar,” Stella says into Dad’s pillow, her voice hoarse from all the crying she’s done tonight.

Dad’s wry smile is faint in the gloom. “You remind me in the morning, kiddo, and I’ll put a quarter in.”

“Dad, if it’s not werewolves, than what?” Stiles asks, his heartbeat ratcheting higher. “You said, no such thing as werewolves, and okay, that’s good, but if there are no werewolves then what’s the story? There has to be a story, right? And we’re gonna need to know it too, me and Stella. Is someone from the station going to want to question us, because—”

“Slow it down, Stiles,” Dad says, hugging Stiles closer for a moment. “You have to remember to breathe, kiddo.”

Stiles swallows and nods.

Dad rubs his back. “The story is that Kate Argent and her crew were sovereign citizens, of the domestic terrorist rather than plain weirdo variety. You know what sovereign citizens are?”

“Uh, yeah. I have ADHD and Wikipedia. I know what everythingis, Dad.”

“Smartass,” Dad says fondly.

“Swear jar,” Stella mumbles indistinctly.  

Dad snorts. “Anyway, they were out in the Preserve for who knows what reason, they saw a police cruiser, and that’s all the justification they needed. And Chris Argent, who is going to testify to his sister’s radicalization by the way, had followed her out there to check up on her, and caught up with us at the cemetery in time to lend a hand.”

Stiles frowns into the softening gloom. “And… and they way they died though? Is that going to hold up under an autopsy? Not the burns, I guess, because grenades or whatever, but claw marks?”

“A dog,” Dad says. “They had an attack dog. A wolf dog, probably. It turned on them and ran away.”

Stiles’s dubiousness must show in his expression. It’s not like he has a poker face.

Dad raises his eyebrows. “But you don’t need to worry about that, son. You and Stella were in the back of Kate’s SUV the whole time, okay? You never saw anything at the cemetery until Chris and I got you out again. Okay?”  

“Okay,” Stiles says.

No werewolves, no Lydia and Jackson, no confrontation at the Hale house after all. It’s like the supernatural has been entirely excised from the night’s events. Stiles still isn’t sure how it will hold up to scrutiny. It all depends on Dad, he supposes, and on how much his reputation is worth. People don’t go looking to dig holes in the stories of honest men, do they?

“I’m sorry,” he says, his throat aching. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to, and then…”

And then Kate’s SUV rammed them right off the road.

“Kiddo,” Dad says, and he sounds rueful, “I wouldn’t have believed you anyway. When she took me and Stella, Stella spilled the whole story. And even then I didn’t believe it. And when Kate was ranting about werewolves, I thought she was delusional, that somehow you kids had found out what she believed, and Stella thought it was real. It took until I saw it, and even then I think I was mostly still in denial. It’s gonna take a while to process everything.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees softly. “It does.”

“You want to sleep in here tonight?” Dad asks. “I think I’d feel better if both of you are where I can see you.”

Stiles makes a small sound of agreement, even though he doubts he’ll be able to sleep. Not after tonight.

Not when all he can think about is Derek’s lonely howl, and the way it echoed in the places inside Stiles that have also been carved out by loss.

***

Stiles somehow slips into an uneasy sleep, and dreams of lights and runes and shifting waves of magic rolling back and forth through the Preserve. He dreams of Derek’s howl, and Peter’s scream, and of a fire that won’t ever stop burning.

He jolts awake, staring up at the patterns of light on his Dad’s ceiling from the streetlight on the corner. Dad is snoring softly and Stella, wedged up against him like a barnacle, doesn’t look like an earthquake would wake her. Stiles doesn’t realize what pulled him from sleep until he hears it again: that creaky floorboard that’s exactly three paces from his desk. Stiles has been avoiding it for years.

He slides out of bed and pads down the hallway to his room.

There’s a werewolf wearing a glower and a leather jacket waiting for him, framed by the early morning light. It feels like a lifetime since Derek last climbed into his window, and Stella caught him.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey.” Derek’s eyes flash red, and he averts his gaze. He hunches over a little, as though he’s trying to disappear into the space between his shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t know where else to come.”

He’s apologizing for his vulnerability, Stiles thinks. Apologizing for not wanting to be alone right now, when he’s just lost the last member of his pack. And Stiles can’t know exactly what pack means, probably, but he knows what family means.

“It’s okay,” Stiles says. He steps into the room and opens his arms awkwardly. “I’m glad you came. So, yeah, I’m just gonna…”

At first Derek just lets himself be hugged, and it’s as awkward and uncomfortable as Derek always is, but then his hands come to rest on Stiles’s back, and he’s not just being hugged, he’s hugging back. Stiles feels the tension bleed out of him, and exhales slowly.

“I’m sorry about Peter,” he says.

Derek’s breath is warm on the side of his neck. “I thought he was gone. For years. And for a second it felt like I had him back, and now…”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. There isn’t really anything to say.

Derek’s throat clicks as he swallows.

“We buried him at the house,” Derek continues. “Lydia and Jackson helped.” His tone softens into something almost teasing. “She’s a force of nature, isn’t she? I can see why you have a crush on her.”

“Lydia’s awesome,” Stiles agrees. “But I don’t have a crush on her anymore.”

And that’s Derek’s opening, if he wants it, but Stiles isn’t surprised he doesn’t take it. It’s been a hell of a night, after all, and this thing they have—this weird, new, unspoken thing—isn’t going anywhere. It’s okay. It’ll still be there, Stiles thinks, when the dust settles.

And he thinks that Derek gets that, because he runs a hand up Stiles’s spine, and curls his fingers around the nape of his neck, and just holds him.  

This isn’t a bro hug.

It probably never was, honestly.

Stiles closes his eyes and breathes.

***

He has no idea how long they stand like that. It feels like it could be an eternity. He only looks up again, face burning, when he hears Dad pointedly clearing his throat. He and Derek extricate themselves awkwardly.

“Breakfast in fifteen, boys,” Dad says. He steps out of the doorway, and Stiles hears an oof as he runs into something—or someone.

A second later Stella is rushing into Stiles’s room. “Derek! Derek!”

She hits him like a ton of bricks, but Derek doesn’t even flinch. Of course he doesn’t. Stella might be an unstoppable force, but Derek’s an unmovable object.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he tells her, his voice soft, his arms coming around her.

“I’m glad youare!” she exclaims fiercely, and then buries her face in his chest and sobs.

They’re not exactly okay, Stiles knows, but words are paltry. They fall short at times like these. So they’re not okay, but they’re standing, and it’s a start.

It’s a start.

He breathes.

#sterek #Stella and the Wolf #discontentedwinter #my fics

[1987vampire]

Momma Hale AU pt.4

Fandom: Teen Wolf Relationship: Derek Hale x Female!Reader, momma hale au Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything to warn about. Request: @hannahbabyy13 asked: Sooooo like um can you do another Momma Hale..? Lmao I need more, haha I’m retarded ly A/N: what’s up. Someone give me money so I can celebrate valentines day by myself lol (you don’t have to) Extra: Buy me a Coffee!

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Ages! Liam-9 Stiles-10 Isaac-11 Lydia-11 Jackson-13 Erica-13 Allison-14 Scott-15 Boyd-15

Scott sat on the chair, his face in his hands as he thought. y/n was watching from the corner, trying to decipher what was wrong with him. His grades were perfectly fine, he hadn’t gotten into any fights recently, and there was nothing going on that would disturb him, but still, he sat, looking far more distressed than she had ever seen him.

Stiles clung to her side. He was the one who had brought Scott to her attention after he tried to get him to play one of his detective games to no avail. The boy wouldn’t budge and simply shooed the younger away. Isaac was watching from his seat on the other chair, eating chips while he studied the older boy.

y/n was the first to get his attention. “Scotty,” y/n began, walking forward to place her hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

Scott reached his hand back and patted her hand lightly, a signal they had that meant he was okay though this time, she didn’t believe it too much. “I’m fine, mom.”

“I don’t believe that.” y/n moved forward and sat on the floor in front of Scott, smiling lightly. “Scott, I’ve been your mom for ten years. I know who you are, and I know that something is wrong. Please just talk to us.”

Scott sighed and nodded, moving his head further down as to not make eye contact with her. “There’s just this girl,” he began, only to get cut off by Stiles screaming out an ‘ew’ before running out of the room. y/n raised an eyebrow and shook her head, motioning for him to continue. “There’s this girl in my grade who I really like, but she has a boyfriend – a boyfriend that’s a lot better than me.”

y/n smiled and shook her head. “Honeybee, you just have to wait it out. If she takes interest in you, she’ll come around. Don’t worry about it.”

“It just that all my friends have girlfriends, and it’s like they’re pushing it on me to get one. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the girl, but it seems so fake nowadays because they keep pushing and pushing.” Scott looked down and shook his head. “I don’t even have time to worry about a girl right now. I have to focus on my grades.”

I shook my head. He had always been a stickler for good grades, wanting to get the best job he could in his profession. “Scott, you don’t need to have a girlfriend. I’m sure you’ll be completely fine without one, no matter what your friends say. You don’t need a partner to be happy, and you’re not going to be happy if you don’t even want to be in the relationship.” I grabbed Scott’s hand and held it tightly between my two. “Stop worrying so much. You’re growing up too fast. I understand you want that future, but you still need to enjoy being a teenager because it’s going to be gone before you know it.”

Scott nodded and smiled tightly. “Thanks, mom.” I nodded in response and called Stiles into the room.

He came bumbling in with his favorite board game in his hands, Clue. He grinned wide and placed it on the coffee table. “I know that whenever I’m sad, this game makes me happy, so I thought it might make you happy!”

Scott grinned and nodded, opening the worn-out game up. “Let’s play.”

“I call the blue one,” Isaac yelled from the couch before all three sets of eyes turned towards me. “You gonna play, mom?”

“If you guys want.”

“Well, yea,” they all screamed in sync, giggling afterward.

Boyd wrapped his hand around the steering wheel tightly. I rolled my eyes and turned down the radio slightly. “Calm down. You’re doing perfectly fine. Stop being so tense.”

Boyd had recently got his driving permit, and he was absolutely terrified on the road. He was scared of any little thing that seemed mildly dangerous to him or the car.

“I’m just trying to keep us safe,” Boyd stated, turning on his blinker.

“And yet you’re going twenty under the speed limit. That itself is, one, against the law, and, two, a hazard itself.” I crossed my arms and sat back in my seat. “Honey, I’m twice the age of you, and I still drive faster than you.”

Boyd rolled his eyes and sped up a little bit, looking in his rear-view mirror to see Erica and Allison talking away, Allison describing what high school was like. Erica was slightly bored and wasn’t paying much attention to anything. That was until Boyd slammed on the brakes as a squirrely jumped across the road.

Boyd sat with wide eyes, claws out and eyes a beta yellow from how scared he was. y/n fell back into her seat and looked over to Boyd. “Okay, well, you still have to pay attention.” Erica and Allison snickered in the backseat and y/n shook her head in amusement. “It was just a squirrel.”

“I could have killed it,” Boyd shrieked. The whole car burst into giggles and fits of laughter.

Lydia pursed her lips and pulled y/n through the many different clothes racks in the store. She had recently grown out of her kid’s small size and needed new clothes. This, of course, led to an all-day shopping trip of her dragging the woman all through the stores. She had acquired a good amount of clothing ranging from dresses to jeans and anything in-between. Shopping was her favorite activity.

y/n laughed loudly as Lydia scoffed at the overly frilly and pink clothes laid about. Though she did love pink, she hated anything overly in your face. She liked to say, “you should go for simple because it makes you look cooler.” She definitely had a better sense of fashion than anyone else in her grade.

She grabbed a dark blue dress from a rack. Light pink stripes ran across it, and her face seemed to light up at the look of it. She held it up her, and her frown quickly dropped as she noticed how they didn’t have any in her size.

Y/n raised an eyebrow and looked around for any more before asking the sales clerk if they had any more.

“I believe those are the last ones we have, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Lydia’s face dropped at that, and y/n thanked her quietly before paying for what they had gotten and walking out, y/n’s mind on the little girl’s sadness. She hadn’t seen her that excited about a dress in a long time.

~~

y/n knocked on Lydia’s door quietly, holding on tightly to the fabric in her hands. Lydia opened the door quietly, Allison poking out from behind her. “Hey, mom,” she smiled. y/n raised an eye at the makeup covering Allison’s face. It was bright, to say the least.

“I didn’t teach you how to use makeup so you could cover each other in it,” she scolded lightly, a smile on her face. “How do you like your clothes, Lydia.”

Lydia smiled and twirled lightly in her new skirt. “I love them!”

“Well,” y/n drawled out, teasing her lightly as she showed her the fabric, “I guess you won’t be wanting this, then.” She let the fabric fall, dangling from her fingertips to show her the dress Lydia was looking at the other day.

Lydia’s eyes widened, and she squealed excitedly, grabbing the dress. “Thank you, momma,” she squealed, wrapped her arms around y/n. “How did you get this?”

“I might have gone out with Lily after so I could find it.” Lydia grinned and pulled back, holding y/n tightly.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

“Anything for you, Lyd.”

Liam wrapped himself around Derek’s leg tightly, a full body cling. Derek stared down at him, annoyance yet amusement plastered across his face. y/n stood in the corner, watching the two interact. She giggled lightly as Derek shook his leg, making Liam cling tighter.

“What are you doing,” Derek questioned, trying not to laugh as well.

“I don’t want you to go! Stay home!” Derek raised an eyebrow and turned to y/n. She shrugged in response.

“Why don’t you want me to go to work?” Liam pressed his face to Derek’s leg.

y/n look as shocked as Derek at the answer. “Because you’re never home when I’m home. I never get to see you, dad.” Derek bent down and picked up the young boy.

“What are you talking about?”

Liam grumbled and wrapped his arms around Derek. “Whenever you get home, I’m always in bed. I miss you.” Derek’s face dropped, and he hugged Liam tightly.

“How about we stay home today and watch some movies or something.” Liam nodded happily and hugged Derek again before dropping out of his arms.

y/n moved forward as Liam crashed into her. “Are you going to join us, momma?”

y/n looked up to Derek to see him nod happily. “Sure, baby. Go pick out a movie.”

Liam grinned and ran off, laughing loudly as Jackson walked by and tackled him only to run off as Liam tickled him in response.

Those children were your life, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

#momma hale #momma hale au #liam dunbar imagine #derek hale imagine #scott mccall imagine #boyd imagine #erica reyes imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #allison argent imagine #derek hale x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #lydia martin imagine #isaac lahey imagine

[nyxelestia]

Teen Wolf's sounds are great, but its visuals are terrible, and THAT is its weakness

I just read some great meta from about how worldbuilding was probably Teen Wolf's greatest failure. It really hit the nail on the head about how we never really see the kids doing normal, teenage things in between all these abnormal, supernatural things. I can't reblog the post, but I did really want to make one addition to it.

It's not that the writing started to decline throughout the show. Writing was never the problem, nor was its biggest corollary (acting). It was everything else - and very specifically, things like set design, and setting in general.

This is unsurprising for an MTV show, but "sound" has always been one of the biggest features of Teen Wolf. Ranging from extraordinarily well-acted dialogue to fantastic music, and including more subtle developments about the supernatural world based on sound. Think about how much of the supernatural world thus far has been about the way things sound. How much of the werewolves' power or developments are in their roars? Have you ever noticed that Lydia mostly only hears things that aren't there, but rarely ever sees them? (And when she does literally see things, it's almost always someone else trying to manipulate her, rather than her own premonitions/meta-cognitive capabilities.) And that's before getting into all the ways Season 5 was about what people do and don't hear across different frequencies.

Writing - as in the quality of the script - was never really the problem, because the sound of the show has never been a problem.

The show's biggest weakness is visuals - and/or the lack thereof.

And this isn't just another joke about the show's shit lighting - though that is absolutely a part of it.

A lot of the emotional impact of the first three seasons came from the fact scenes would often start with the kids doing normal, teenage things - only to get interrupted by the supernatural shenanigans.

We see Scott carrying groceries (I thought his mom did all the grocery shopping?) to the car when Derek suddenly hunts him down as a werewolf training method. Jackson gets attacked by a werewolf when trying to rent a movie (way to show your age, writers!). Stiles was making out with Heather and made a dash for some condoms when she got kidnapped (and then, when Stiles saw she wasn't in the cellar anymore, his first assumption was that she got cold feet - which a lot of teenagers would when faced with the prospect of losing their virginity). Part of the horror of the wolfsbane punch at Lydia's birthday party, was the fact that it was happening at her birthday party.

In all those instances, the most of the 'screentime' for the scene is something supernatural, but that scene is opened with normal, teenage life, and that normal life continues to be a visual background to the events of the scene, even as the action and audio take a left turn into supernatural shenanigans.

(Which isn't to say Season 1 was perfect about this, either. Where the hell were the doctors, security guards, nurses, orderlies, and other patients when Peter's beatdown of Derek in Season 1 trashed half the long-term care clinic?)

Think about all those slow-mo scenes. Pretty much everyone complains about how pointless most of them are. i.e. From Season 5, why do we need a slow-motion shot of someone running slowly through the woods? The emphasis was on the music to try and make the moment dramatic. A far better method would've been to keep the motion at regular speed, but instead of showing kids running through the woods or an open field, show them running through the alley behind a mall, or away from their home neighborhoods, or a montage of them running through various teenage hang-outs in town (which would've given a secondary emphasis on subtly demonstrating supernatural speed). The best part is that the "sound" could've stayed the same (dramatic music, huffing-and-puffing, footsteps, etc).

We may not have needed to see a big, family gathering for Scott - just some pictures of family members on the walls of the McCall home would've done the job (and possibly even a better one). This would've been especially powerful if we got to see lots of family pictures all over the McCall house, and yet almost no family pictures in the Stilinski house. Think about how different the Sheriff revealing his father's abuse would've been, if this was done with several pictures of Scott's extended family - including HIS grandfather/Meliss'a parents - in the background. Just imagine that after the Sheriff describes how he got that scar, Scott glances over to a picture of himself, his mom, and a very old man with a warm face on his smile. This would've had no change in dialogue/audio, and would've been a short enough moment that it could've been done without even affecting the screentime - but it would've conveyed so, so much without ever saying a word.

We do still see hints of attempts at this in Season 5 - i.e. the girls are sneaking in some stereotypically illicit driving practice, when Lydia leads them to a dead body. But using daily life as the background for un-daily events is so rare by that point, the 'normal life' moment felt contrived.

Thankfully, Season 6 is actually getting a lot better about this. The first episode was rife with things like the kids taking yearbook pictures, completely failing to ditch classes, and talking about homework (with only hints of the supernatural world, rather than abrupt segues into really big events). This made the Ghost Riders suddenly popping up to take someone away from all this even more horrifying, because we are shown what Stiles is being taken away from. While the night-time and "indoor" scenes are still pretty dim, compared to the last few seasons, the rest of the scenes are actually much better lit.

I bring that last one up because, while lighting isn't all of the show's visual problems, it is a huge part.

Case in point, remember the scene where the school PA system is talking about the police curfew in Season 5, and the lights are all inexplicably dimmed? That scene was overwrought and melodramatic. Compare that to Season 6, where all the daytime scenes are happening with the sun shining brightly through the open windows - and how that makes the little supernatural intrusions all the more shocking and devastating (i.e. Lydia's hallucination of the doctor in the classroom).

Having another pack next door was very much an ass-pull in Season 4, one written to quickly kill off a lot of supernatural beings without actually killing off any of the pack. Imagine if, instead of this, we just got a montage of different people being hunted down and killed, all of them with small hints towards their supernatural side.

i.e. Someone with scales who gets killed while trying to swim to safety, or an assassin shooting into the sky and suddenly a dead body with wings falls to the ground, or people whose eyes glow colors other than the werewolf red/yellow/blue. Imagine if instead of the stereotypical claws and fangs, someone fought to the death with talons, or horns, or a tail? Imagine if we did see someone sprout claws and fangs, but right when we expect to hear a wolf/canine roar, we heard something that sounded like a lion or a tiger instead?

We could've had a LOT of visual hints at other supernatural creatures and a bigger supernatural world/environment, with very little change in screentime or audio/dialogue. (And most of what just described could've been done relatively cheap in terms of costume/make-up and special effects, i.e. you don't need to show someone with wings flying through the sky - just a body with limp wings falling to the ground.)

tl;dr - It's not the writing that's the problem, because MTV is a very audio-oriented company, and the show 'sounds' fantastic. It's the lack of visual complements that are the real problem.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf