#do it. and i also think she'd feel self conscious about BEING self conscious about swearing and overcompensate esp bc it's something from

[aquilamage]

on one hand I don’t wanna be that boring bitch who keeps writing the nonhuman characters as humans but also what is the bug equivalent of “Mothiva will strip down (and/or have her hair/makeup not done) in front of Zasp without any thought, warning, or feeling to it?”

#this is completely rhetorical I'm sure if you're creative/thoughtful enough you can come up with equivalents to convey the idea #it's just way easier if they're humans #also this is whether or not they're doing the yikes 'friends with benefits' stuff. that doesn't change anything about it #will say that I have thought about for Mothiva in specific she's probably also done enough modeling etc that she's less self-conscious about #being in those states around others when it's for like. Job Stuff #but ALSO her career is such that I think that she'd have developed more of A Thing about the hair/makeup than even being dressed #(which would cause problems in her Gets Fired storyline due to lack of access to as much of that but that's diverging from the point) #point is that it's about her taking Zasp for granted in a very specific way. which probably also includes wordlessly expecting him to help #her like. get ready for shows and such #and like. there's a very specific context I guess you have to put all this in with other things that actually gets the meaning across beyond #casual comfort with each other. because it is that but it's also like. more #ugh now I feel like I'm just confusing the point #idk this was a thing I was thinking about in the context of a specific 'scene' I was imagining in my head #an aquila original

[girlgenius1111]

wrong.

r is dating an older woman. her teammates don't approve. when r and her girlfriend breakup, she hides it from her teammates, determined not to let them know that they were right.

angst + fluff. breakup obviously. protective barca :)

When you'd decided to ignore your teammates feelings about your girlfriend, you didn't imagine it would end as terribly as it did. You chalked it up to them being overprotective, which they were, rather than them being right about her, which they also were. She was 28, and you were 19, and you knew they felt that she was too old for you. You were one of the younger players on the team, which you took as something of a challenge, as if you had to prove your maturity. That wasn't why you were dating someone so much older, but it was certainly a perk. You thought they'd be impressed when they met her, but they were not. They waited until she left to tell you that they thought it was a bad idea, that she was too old for you.

This only really strengthened your resolve to keep seeing her, much to your teammates frustration. They'd all tried to speak to you about it, promising that they just didn't want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of, but you wouldn't hear any of it. You all fell into an unspoken agreement to not discuss your girlfriend, as it was the cause of countless arguments, and they clearly weren't changing your mind. Alexia had finally thrown up her hands, saying that if you wanted to be immature and not listen to them, you were free to do so, but that you shouldn't expect them to be there to fix it when it inevitably ended poorly.

Alexia was just frustrated and worried, and she hadn't really meant it. She thought that was obvious; her and the team had made it clear, she thought, that they were always there for you. No matter what. They'd proven it, time and time again, but Alexia's words rattled around in your brain for days after she said them, and you were unable to pretend they hadn't hurt. Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind, confident that you wouldn't need your teammates, because nothing would go wrong.

-----

Of course, everything did go wrong. You had gone to your girlfriend's apartment to surprise her with dinner after training one day. You were in the kitchen, preparing to start cooking when you heard her key in the door. She was on the phone when she walked in, sitting on the couch and continuing her conversation, and you decided to wait until she was off the phone to announce your presence.

"No, really, it's fine. She doesn't have to know, and besides, she's just a bit of fun. She's 20, she can't possibly think I'm serious about her."

You felt nauseous. As far as you were aware, you were the only 20 year old she was seeing, which meant she was talking about you. It only got worse from there.

"I definitely prefer you, baby. Her body is nice, obviously, but I could do without her personality. She's young, and annoying, and she doesn't know how to shut up. I don't know how her team tolerates her, honestly, I can't spend more than a couple hours with her unless we're partaking in... other activities, and then her mouth is pretty busy."

You can hear the smirk in her voice, and you swear you can feel your heart fall out of your chest. She was speaking so carelessly about you, so cruelly. You felt used, and suddenly self conscious about everything you'd ever said. Was she right? Did you talk too much? Did the team secretly hate you? It only took you a few seconds to decide that she was probably right. She was older, the age of a lot of your teammates, and it seemed incredibly likely that they felt the same way.

Your embarrassment quickly turned to anger, though, as it often did, and you grabbed the flowers you'd brought her, and marched out into the living room. Her eyes widened, hand dropping the phone, and you threw the flowers in her direction, as well as the key to her apartment she'd given you, before walking right out the door, taking care to slam it behind you.

-----

You thought you were handling it pretty well. You walked right out of her apartment and to your car, driving home. You didn't cry, that would be ridiculous. What was there to cry about? You should have known it would end like this. You couldn't stand the thought of hearing your teammates I told you so's, nor the thought of them sticking to their guns, and not being there for you when you needed them, because they'd warned you. You decided that you wouldn't need them, then, which definitely was not fueled partly by your ex-girlfriend's words about them probably hating you. No, you were fine. Everything was fine.

You woke the next morning sadder than you'd been the night before. The anger had faded, leaving a hole in your chest, where the words you'd overheard were etched permanently. You knew that, in this state, it would take just one person asking if you were okay for you to break, and that was not an option. You would act as normal as possible, no one would suspect anything, and you could cry when you got home, not before.

-----

You wished you didn't have such perceptive teammates. You could have sworn you'd acted normally, completely normally, as you headed into the locker room that morning, joking around with Pina and Ona, and doing your best to keep a smile on your face. It was like the older girls had some internal alarm that went off when you weren't okay, and you felt their eyes flitting over to you throughout the morning gym session.

Still, you held strong, avoiding the girls that were watching you carefully, instead spending time with the younger girls, who were happy to joke around, which keep your mind off things. Your first real test came in the form of Lucy Bronze.

Everyone was walking out to the pitch, when she fell into step with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

"How did your surprise dinner go?" She asked. You'd completely forgotten that you'd told Lucy about that. She was one of the only ones who could be civil when talking about your girlfriend, taking the time to ask you about her, even though you knew she held the same opinions as the others.

"Oh. Fine. It was good." You replied shortly, and Lucy couldn't help but be slightly confused when you shrugged out from under her arm, and jogged away. You weren't one to spare details when telling a story, but you had evidently not wanted to talk about it. That wasn't like you.

"What special dinner?" Ingrid asked, coming up on the other side of Lucy as you literally ran away. Mapi was on her other side, also looking curiously at Lucy.

"She was surprising her girlfriend by cooking her dinner last night," Lucy explained and Mapi frowned.

"I don't like that girl." She stated plainly. "She's not good enough for our pequeña."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows how you feel about her, love, you don't need to remind us every time she's brought up."

Mapi ignored her girlfriend. "She answered strangely, no? Normally she's talktative whenever someone asks about her girl, but she ran away from you." The Spaniard observed, watching as you sprayed water on Pina's head, your smile not quite reaching your eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. You know she hates hearing how much everyone dislikes her girlfriend though, it was probably just that." Lucy dismissed, but Mapi's eyes stay trained on you.

"Hmm."

"María, please don't get involved in that again, you know how upset it makes her when everyone has something to say about her relationship," Ingrid said reproachfully, fully understanding the look in her girlfriend's eyes.

"I am not going to get involved," Mapi defended. "I am just going to see if anyone else has any observations..."

Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't mention this to Alexia until you're sure something is going on, she'll freak out."

"I won't." Mapi promised, distracted. Ingrid walked away to talk to Frido, and Mapi immediately found Alexia standing with Irene, and marched over.

Ingrid abruptly stopped talking, watching as Mapi seemingly did exactly what she ahd told her not to do.

"What?" Frido asked, following Ingrid's eyes to where Mapi was standing with the captains.

"Mapi's convinced something happened with y/n and her girlfriend, and I told her not to say anything because you know how y/n gets, especially not to Alexia, and look. She's doing exactly what I said not to." Ingrid sighed, exasperated.

"I don't like that girl." Frido said, frowning at the mention of your girlfriend.

Ingrid threw her hands in the air. "No one does! That doesn't mean we have to get all up in y/n's business. The more we push, the less likely she is to listen to us."

"Alright, relax, I agree with you." Frido said. Ingrid glared at Mapi from across the pitch, the Spaniard very obviously avoiding eye contact with her girlfriend. Jona called them over to start a drill, then, and all conversations came to a halt. For now.

-----

You weren't oblivious to the increase of attention on you after talking to Lucy, but you were determined not to acknowledge it. Your teammates were stubborn, though; almost as stubborn as you. You were walking off the pitch at the end of training, towards the locker room, when Alexia and Mapi appeared on either side of you.

"How was your night last night?" Alexia asked innocently, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

"Fine?" You asked, feigning confusion.

"Do anything fun?" Mapi wondered.

"No." You said, because you weren't sure you could even discuss your ex at this point. Lucy had brought it up before, and you'd barely made it through that brief conversation.

"Really?" Both girls said in unison. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes." You huffed, getting frustrated, and they could tell. Alexia grabbed your wrist, stopping you, and her and Mapi moved to stand in front of you, blocking your path inside.

"Lucy said you did something fun with your girlfriend?" Alexia asked, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Mapi's arms were crossed, and it really felt like you were in trouble.

"Yeah, we had dinner. Can I go now?"

"No, you're being weird. Did something happen?" Mapi said, stepping closer to you.

"Nope," you shook your head stubbornly.

"Pequeña, you seem upset," Alexia reached out a hand to rest on your shoulder, but you moved out of the way.

"I am not upset." Your voice was completely devoid of emotion, and Mapi and Alexia exchanged looks, not used to you acting so stand offish towards them.

"If something happened, you can tell us," Alexia stated, not deterred by your behavior.

"I don't even know why you care, you said you didn't want to hear if something happened." You scoff. Your face is one of anger, but your body language radiates sadness.

"When did I say that? I always want to know whats going on with you."

"Alexia, you told me not to come crying to you if you ended up being right about her." The blonde was speechless, absolutely stunned that you had taken that to heart.

"I wasn't being serious, y/n." She said quietly, somewhat gaining an understanding of why you were being so resistant to them. You remained quiet, gaze fixed on the grass under your feet.

"Seriously, pequeña, if something happened with you and your girl, you can tell us." Mapi cut in. You groaned, running a hand through your hair. You weren't getting out of this, you knew.

"We broke up. You guys were right. Happy?"

"I am so sorry, y/n." Alexia sighed, moving closer as if to pull you into a hug. Instead, you pushed in between her and Mapi, stalking towards the locker room.

"No you aren't. You don't have to pretend you care. You don't want to hear about it, and I don't want to talk about it." You snapped over your shoulder, ignoring the way they followed you, calling your name.

You made it inside the locker room, aggressively throwing your things into your bag, and stomping back out towards the parking lot, completely ignoring the way every member of the team was watching you, concerned. Alexia and Mapi stood in the door, once again blocking your path.

"Y/n, stop," Mapi said. The room was quiet as everyone watched the standoff.

"Move." You said through clenched teeth. You were blinking back tears, and Alexia and Mapi softened at the sight. You took your opportunity, shoving them out of your way, and walking out without a look backwards. This time, the girls didn't follow you out of the room, instead looking like they were at a complete loss for what to do. As you walked down the hall, you heard the unmistakable voice of Ingrid cutting through the silence.

"María, I TOLD you not to bother her." The room erupted into conversation, and you left the building, wiping angrily at the tears falling down your face.

-----

You made it home, showering and fighting the urge to just get in bed and fall into misery. Instead, you focused on de-girlfriend-ing your apartment. There wasn't much, as you'd only been together for a few months, but you'd filled a garbage bag of her stuff, and headed down to the dumpster. You threw the bag out, and it didn't bring as much satisfaction as you'd hoped it would. You walked back to the front door of the building, rather dejected, when a voice called out to you.

"Y/n, you haven't been answering any of my calls," your ex said, jogging to where you stood frozen by the door. "Hey, baby," she continued, wrapping her arms around you and trying to pull you in. You unfroze, shoving her off you.

"Don't touch me." You snarled, backing into the door.

"Don't be like that, you weren't supposed to hear any of what I said."

"Is that supposed to make it better?"

"You're being dramatic, y/n, stop being so sensitive. This is what I was talking about, you won't even have a mature conversation with me about this." The girl standing in front of you was completely unrecognizable, to you at least. You wondered if this was the person all of your teammates had seen.

"There's no conversation to be had. We're done. You are a horrible person, and I never want to see you again."

Her face contorted in anger. "Did your teammates tell you to do this? They're probably just tired of hearing you complain, y/n. They barely put up with you, you aren't going to find anyone other than me that will." She reached forward again, trying to hold onto your arm, and there wasn't any room behind you to back up. Her words felt like a slap to the face.

"Don't touch me," you said again, voice much weaker this time. You couldn't believe what she was saying; it was like she was a completely different person suddenly, yet she still knew you, and knew exactly what to say to hurt you.

"No, you're gonna hear what I have to say," she said, clearly frustrated with you standing up for yourself. Her hand closed around your wrist, and you prepared to pull away, to run, when another voice shouted out from not too far away.

"Get your hands off her," Mapi growled, coming from seemingly nowhere to shove your ex away from you. Her and Alexia stood, shoulder to shoulder, not unlike how they had earlier, glaring at the girl in front of them.

You jumped as a pair of arms wrapped around you, settling when you Ingrid stepped in front of you, bringing you in close to her chest. You clung to her, not really sure why you were so afraid. You knew your ex wouldn't have hurt you, but she really scared you when she'd tried to grab you, and you wanted nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible.

"You do not ever touch her again, understand? Or you will not enjoy what happens to you." Alexia warned, her voice angrier and more threatening than you'd ever heard it.

"Are you okay?" Ingrid asked, drawing your attention away from Alexia. You nodded shakily, gripping tightly onto Ingrid's sweater. She was blocking you from really seeing what was going on, positioned directly between you and your ex. You could still hear her though.

"Whatever," she scoffed. "She's not worth the trouble." Mapi made an angry noise, and Alexia started forward, but Ingrid's voice brought their focus back to you.

"She's not worth it. Let's get pequeña inside." The Norwegian said, shooting both girls a meaningful look. They watched your ex walk away, as you unlocked the front door, and headed towards the elevator. No one spoke as you stepped in, taking it up to your floor. They filed out of the doors after you, still silent, following you to your door.

"You don't have to stay." You said quietly, fiddling with the lock.

"We're staying." Alexia responded firmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her and Mapi were still practically radiating anger as they entered your apartment. Ingrid was angry to, you could tell, but she hid it better, focusing instead on getting you a glass of water. She handed it to you, as her and Alexia took seats in your living room. Mapi remained standing, whole body still tense. You sat, in the corner of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest. Your teammates hated how small you were making yourself, how shaken you seemed.

"Are you okay pequeña?" Alexia asked after a minute, scooting closer to you on the couch.

"Fine." You said. You were fine. She wouldn't have hurt you, you knew that. Everything she said, though, did hurt. It felt like she'd picked out your biggest insecurities, and told you that they were true. You'd been vulnerable with her, more than you'd ever been with anyone else, and she'd used it against you the second she could. You weren't overly eager to share anything else, not right now. This wouldn't fly with your teammates, though, that much you knew. They'd come to apologize, probably, but they wouldn't leave until they were sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay. One word answers weren't going to convince them. "I'm fine, really. She startled me, that's all."

They didn't look convinced. You supposed that was fair; they'd need more than that.

"Seriously, I'm alright. I dodged a bullet, clearly."

"What she said..." Alexia started, but you stopped her, shaking your head.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad." Alexia said.

"Ale," Ingrid said, shifting uncomfortably. The blonde ignored her.

"She is completely wrong, pequeña. We don't put up with you, y/n. We love you. We always want to hear what's going on with you, and what you have to say. You know that, don't you?"

You shrugged, really wishing they hadn't heard that part of the conversation.

"Can you tell us what happened with her?" Mapi said softly, finally taking a seat in the chair next to Ingrid. You hesitated, and it becomes very clear to them that you've internalized what they heard your ex say to you. "We want to hear, we want to help."

"I didn't mean what I said before, y/n. That because we warned you about her, we wouldn't be there if things went wrong. You could ignore every piece of advice I ever give you, and I'd still want to be there for you. Every time." Alexia cut in, resting a hand on your knee. You didn't shift away from her this time, which she took to be a good sign.

With a sigh, not meeting any of their eyes, you told them everything. Everything she'd said on the phone about you, the things that made your cheeks burn with humiliation, your stomach twist with anxiety. The words felt like they burned on the way out of your mouth, the fear that your friends would agree with them almost choking you. Of course, they didn't.

You'd barely finished talking when Mapi abruptly rose from her seat, hands clenched in tight fists and walked without a word into the kitchen. You looked after her, confused, but Ingrid just shook her head.

"She's angry, she just needs a minute."

You nodded slowly, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Mapi was so angry on your behalf that she could barely contain her feelings.

You looked to Alexia, her hand still resting on your knee, finding her deep in thought. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"You are right, pequeña, you definitely dodged a bullet. I am so sorry she said those things about you. None of them are true, not even one. You are a wonderful, thoughtful, kind person. You deserve so much better than her."

You nod your head weakly at her reassurance. You weren't convinced, but it made you feel better, if only marginally. Mapi reentered the room again, sitting not in the chair she was in earlier, but squishing herself into Ingrid's chair. It was always interesting to watch them together; wherever one of the struggled, the other picked them up, always, without a second thought. Ingrid scooched over in the chair, face unchanged and still fixed on you, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend and squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. Mapi visibly relaxed once her body was in contact with Ingrid's, like all of her muscles had un-tensed, and some of the anger was pushed out of her body.

That was how a relationship was supposed to be, you thought. You'd never felt more like an idiot in your entire life, yet still, your insecurities swirled around your head, and you felt like you were drowning in them.

"So you don't... you don't think she was right?" You ask in a small voice, peeking at the girls' faces. They all look shattered at your question, like it was causing them physical pain that you thought it possible that they didn't actually care about you, that you believed even a word of what that awful woman had said to you.

"No. She is completely, entirely wrong." Alexia said, sounding like she was pleading with you to believe her.

"I just thought she really liked me." You whispered, and it appears Alexia couldn't hold herself back anymore, moving closer and smooshing you into her arms. You cried softly into Alexia's sweatshirt, never having been more grateful in your life for anything, than you were in that moment that she was there, that all of them were there. Your captain wrapped you up safely in her arms, and the strength with which she held you did even more to convince you that she meant what she said; she wanted, more than anything, to be there for you.

"Voy a matar a esa puta." You heard Mapi declare. Alexia hummed in agreement against you.

"You're not going to kill anyone, María." Ingrid dismissed. "Not by yourself, and you'll have to beat me to it."

You looked up in surprise, seeing a satisfied grin on Mapi's face, and a fiery look on Ingrid's. If you ever wondered how 2 seemingly different people made a relationship work, you had your answer. Deep down, Ingrid could be just as protective, just as reckless as Mapi was when it came to people she loved.

You tried to pull away from Alexia, having stopped crying, but her arms only tightened around you.

"No, you are staying right here, where no one can ever make you sad again." Alexia said decisively. You stifle a laugh, but give up your attempts to escape. Your words come out slightly muffled when you speak again.

"Can you guys not tell everyone about what happened? They can know we broke up, but the whole team will just freak out if they know what she said, and I don't want to deal with that."

Ingrid and Alexia easily agree to your request, but Mapi remains silent. Finally, you do pull away from Alexia to stare suspiciously at the defender. Ingrid is tilting away from her girlfriend, an exasperated expression on her face.

"María, what did you do?" You asked. Mapi smiled sheepishly.

"I may have asked Lucy and Mario if they were free later to pay your ex a visit, and I also may have told them what we overheard."

"Mapi," you groaned.

"I didn't know you didn't want people to know! Besides, it will be easier to scare her away from you with more people. Especially those two!" You weren't impressed, but Alexia evidently was, a contemplative expression on her face.

"No, Ale, please don't let this happen," You begged, switching your attention to the normally more cool-headed individual.

"You can't go threaten that girl, no matter how much she deserves it." Alexia said, and Mapi deflated, a frown finding it's way onto her face. You sigh, relieved. "At least not right away. We'll give it a few weeks, until she lets her guard down."

"Alexia!" You yelped, and she simply smiles softly at you.

"No one messes with our pequeña. Ever." Alexia shrugged, relatively unbothered by your slight annoyance.

It wasn't actual frustration, though. You knew they were just joking around. Well everyone except for Mapi; she was definitely being serious. Regardless, it felt good to know they had your back; like further confirmation that they didn't feel at all how your ex had said they did. You should have listened to them from the beginning, but more than that, you should have never listened to your ex, not when everything your teammates did today, and everyday, proved her to be wrong.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

[sawyerconfort]

the yellowjackets when you wear their shirts would include...

Hi, I promised I would come back and I just disappeared, I'm really sorry! As I mentioned before, my computer has been having huge problems, and I've tried to fix it before, but it looks like I'm going to have to format it after all.

In the meantime, I've got a laptop abandoned at home and I'm trying to write on it. Half the delay was because I was trying to adjust to the new method and the other half because I really had no idea for these requests and giving you shitty stuff would not be fair at all.

Ok, so here we go, probably for a wave of headcannons with other fandoms (AHS fans, I promise I'll answer all of your asks, don't worry!

Enjoy!

Requests will be a little closed for a while just until I get my act together! Sorry for the delay and closing!

If you can also let me know in the replies if you want more prompts and headcannons with the yellowjackets, I would appreciate it! And let me know if you want me to include Travis or\and Coach Ben on it too...

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

Jackie Taylor

I don't think Jackie would make a fuzz about it. Alright, she would probably be surprised on the first day. But because she's supposedly the most popular girl in school, she's even happy that you're being influenced by her style, after all, that's what popular girls are for, right?

It will also depend a lot on your relationship. If you are friends, for example, Jackie will insist on letting you take some clothes that no longer fit her. And if you're dating, she'll make sure to tease you as much as she can until you express the reaction that pleases her the most.

"You look beautiful, (Y\N), my style really suits you, like I always said."

Shauna Shipman

Shauna wouldn't mind too much about you wearing her clothes either, but unlike Jackie, I think she'd be pretty insecure about commenting on it, kind of afraid that it would make you stop wearing it, and also, of course, due to her internal issues with herself.

But Shauna would find it incredibly adorable, though, and would give you some signs that she liked the offbeat idea, her way. This includes not-so-subtle glances while you're wearing the fabric, or some clothes, which are her favorites as well, laid out on the bed when you come to visit… Little details that let you know that Shauna isn't bothered at all therefore.

I mean, unless it's her flannels, these inseparable fucking flannels… Those no one can take, not even a significant other.

"Uh… You look cute, (Y\N), in my outfit… I like it."

Natalie Scatorccio

I don't think Natalie would mind you wearing her clothes. In fact, I think it would be a good opportunity for her to take advantage of this and tease you as much as she can. She will do anything to make you self-conscious and blush, but not in a bad way. Like, that's just her love language.

And, let's face it, Natalie is needy enough not to let her scent wash off her clothes when you take them off. On nights when she needs to sleep alone, if you're dating, she'll purposefully grab one of her pieces of clothing and smell in the scent to keep you close.

"Hey, sweetie, lookin' pretty, huh? Is this outfit mine by any chance?"

Taissa Turner

I'm a hundred percent sure that Tai would be one of those people who abominate clichés, unless she's doing it herself. So, at first, this idea of sharing clothes with her significant other is something she would find completely silly. The first time, she would just kindly tell you to stop it, in a way that doesn't hurt your feelings (I love a soft-hearted Tai, don't judge me!).

But then, as time goes on, I'm also one hundred percent sure that Tai would buy clothes in her style that exclusively fit you. It's kind of her guilty pleasure, since spoiling you is one of her most practiced love languages. And well, considering the tantrum she threw the first few times, how much you've evolved is impressive.

"Okay honey, which one do you want to wear today?"

Lottie Matthews

Okay, get ready for the biggest love bomb you've ever received in your life. Lottie would be completely adorable about your wearing her clothes, and not only would she not mind at all, she would make a point of convincing you that you are one of the lost paintings by one of the famous artists of past centuries, or something like that.

In fact, it's kind of a headcannon on my part that Lottie doesn't have her own style and that she's always looking for something that makes her belong somewhere (some clothes in her teens she wore because of her mother's influence, just because it would please her, you know? )

So, seeing you wearing the dresses that she finds extremely over the top, or the blouses that have too much detail and too little simplicity, is like one of the greatest achievements of her life, if not the greatest. I don't think Lottie ever liked that flashy style more than when you started stealing it from her.

"Wow, wow, wait a minute! Wow, (Y\N), I think you wearing this made me a hundred times more in love with you! Wear it more, babe. You can wear my clothes as much as you like."

Van Palmer

(Okay, since Liv identifies as they\them, I'm going to change the pronouns for this one, hope you don't mind!)

Van and Natalie would have the same approach when it comes to stealing their clothes. But, I think, as an honest opinion, Van would turn this more into a flirting game than anything else. They are simply obsessed (it reads turned on) when you wear something of theirs.

And of course, this opens the door for some good teasing that will inevitably end in making out. Like, how would you handle it, with Van looking you up and down and smirking with that smile you're completely drawn to every time? It's almost impossible for nothing to happen.

I'm also pretty sure that if you were dating, they wouldn't let you have only your clothes in your closet or in your bags. There would always have to be three or more pieces of them that you could use as much or as little as you wanted.

"Wow! Watch out, everyone! There's an extremely hot living being crossing the room, and look what a coincidence, they're wearing my clothes!"

Misty Quigley

Misty would probably have the best reaction ever. Then she, who was always ridiculed for her attitudes and style, having someone who was able to wear her clothes as if they were completely ordinary. Are you kidding? You'll practically make her day if you do something like that!

Obviously, she would be embarrassed and reluctant to ask you the first time why you were doing it, but Misty Quigley has two sides to the coin, and one of them being the impulsive side, I think that would be the one that would beat her to the courage. And your response of the type "because I love your style" would simply keep her up all night.

By the next morning, her entire circle of potential friends would have known about it…

"OH MY GOD! Are these… are these my clothes? Okay, now you really need to let me do your makeup, (Y\N)!"

Laura Lee

(Same thing as Liv\Van, but I don't really know if Laura Lee would use neutral pronuns... It's all because of Jane Widdop, our baby!)

Laura Lee would be pretty surprised if you showed up wearing their clothes, and honestly, I don't think there would be any malice on their part when you did. More than a possible sign that they could be more than friends to you, this would mean that you could, above all, be friends.

They would find it extremely sweet, actually, the effort and dedication you put into choosing an item of clothing that they loved, but was also comfortable for you. In short, Laura Lee would just adore you even more, if that were even possible!

"Oh! Oh! I can't believe it! You look beautiful wearing this, (Y\N). In God's eyes and mine mostly."

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #fluff #headcannons #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader #shauna shipman x reader #van palmer x reader #taissa turner x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #lottie matthews x reader #laura lee x reader #misty quigley x reader

[copperbadge]

would you mind talking a little about enjoying traveling solo? I've always wanted to explore, but so many people paint traveling as this group activity, and I've always felt bad not having friends to do it with

My god, how much time do we have?

So, I could indulge in a little free therapy here and talk about some fucked-up experiences of travel I had as a child, but that's not really applicable, so...let's leave it at the fact that until I was out on my own, I didn't get to pick what happened to me on trips. I do often travel with my friends, who are always up to do the dumb shit I concoct for us, but any travel with another person involves compromise, and sometimes I just don't want to compromise, or to irritate my friends. Even though I know they probably won't be, I still worry they will, and sometimes I don't want to worry.

I also never internalized the idea that doing things alone was sad or weird. It's a social cue that I completely missed. The first time a friend of mine randomly came across me eating alone in a restaurant in college, she said, "Sam, why are you eating alone?" and I said, baffled, "Because I wanted dinner?"

I was twenty years old before it occurred to me that other people would feel strange eating alone in a restaurant, and then only because she told me she'd be too self-conscious. I was thirty before I realized most people would be self-conscious traveling alone, something I'd been doing since I was seventeen. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to be with other people -- some people love company or are nervous traveling alone or just plain don't get the appeal, and that's entirely fine.

But I love knowing that everything I do is for me alone. I can go to the weird museum or check out the odd store or do strange secret things to delight myself and never worry that I'm making life unpleasant for someone. I can be as selfish as I want. That's very rare for me and very precious. Also why I will probably never have a permanent romantic partner, but that's also free therapy for some other time.

The truth is, when you are alone, nobody actually knows that. Yes, if you're the only person at your table in a restaurant you're obviously alone, but nobody knows you aren't just getting a bite to eat before meeting up with your many cool friends. I don't look at anyone I see out in the world and go "Oh sad sack, look at them without anyone to hang out with." I think most of us worry everyone is saying that, and none of us actually are saying that.

And when I have been asked if I'm with someone and said, "Oh, I'm traveling on my own", people universally react with envy. "That must be amazing. I couldn't do it," or "I've never gone on a trip by myself, is it fun?" I've never had anyone say or imply that I'm a loser who couldn't find someone else to travel with. Quite the reverse.

Recently I had the thought that if I was more afraid of being alone I would probably have more intimate friendships or at any rate a much wider social circle, because I would need someone else to go with me on adventures and I would have to internalize the idea that it's okay to inconvenience or bore someone else at times, which I never really have. But that's kind of a tautology; "if I was less okay being alone I'd be less alone" is cyclical reasoning, when the truth is I'm someone who is a little fucked up about other people but also just genuinely enjoys solitude.

I love my friends, and I try very hard to form strong bonds with them despite that being really hard for me. I do get lonely, and I spend more time alone than is probably good for me. I get very anxious before solo trips. But I will also always need times when I am alone and only ever have to worry about myself. And once I'm launched on the trip I fucking love it. There are very few joys to rival walking out early in the morning into a strange city and knowing that the day and the city are both yours and yours alone.

Also sometimes I pretend I'm a spy, or an art historian on the trail of a stolen painting, or an academic writing a very important book. That's fun as hell.

Anyway, even when I do travel alone my friends are only a text message away, and I get to see cool stuff that I bring back to my room at night and share with all of you. I love sharing my adventures with you guys.

So yeah. My thesis is that nobody will even notice you're alone and if they do they'll probably think you're fucking cool for doing it, and meanwhile you get to do exactly what you want and nothing you don't. I think everyone should at least try it. You don't have to do a four-country trip through Europe for your first time out; you can just find something in another city that you want to see -- a museum or a zoo or a play or a cool burger joint -- book a trip, arrive Friday night and leave Sunday afternoon. And if it turns out you don't like traveling alone, that's okay too. There's no inherent moral virtue in being alone any more than there is in not wanting to be.

I just think it's super cool to sometimes go haring off on my own and do dumb shit. :D

#travel #sam travels #solo travel

[captainofthetidesbreath]

What classes do you think the mighty nein would play, were they to play dnd? Bonus round would they be good at dnd.

I had a post about this like back in 2020 or something that I cannot find, so I don't know if my opinions have changed since then. I don't have anyone down as DMing because I assume that even their forever DM has a preferred class.

Fjord - Cleric I don't think Fjord would like tanking that much because getting attacked makes him nervous, but he doesn't want to be a glass cannon either. I think that he would initially go for cleric because he simply wants to be useful and helpful, but he didn't necessarily realize how big of a job being the cleric is. He starts out as a just Cure Wounds dispenser, but quickly flourishes into a Holy Terror Wrath Of The Righteous Divine cleric. He loves doing that. His mechanics are solid and efficient and he's tactically astute, but he's a timid roleplayer who struggles to initiate scenes. He's solid if drawn into scenes and forgets to be self-conscious because he's got a better character sense than he thinks. Literally do not ask him what the overall plot of the campaign is because he cannot remember no matter how hard he tries; he remembers individual PC arcs though. I think he'd also like paladins, bards, and druids, and I do think he'd be willing to play some of the more involved fighters like the Knights subclasses and the cooler rangers.

Beau - Wizard She wants to be the person in the game who gets all the information, and that's usually a wizard. She wants to put her little hands all over all the lore, and also she loves having a spell list that's a billion miles long. She does not want you to know that she feels so smugly satisfied playing a character who can do the research and have the connections and know the information. She absolutely hates that this means she's made of tissue paper, so she tends toward Con wizard. Her mechanics and exploration work are really good, and she is stellar at engaging in the world in a way that's highly informed by her character class. She struggles with the roleplaying part of things a lot. She has a decent grasp of character, it's the actual RPing part that she has trouble with. If you can convince her to play a charisma caster, which she is afraid of doing, she'd also enjoy bard a lot. Also monks and artificers.

Caleb - Wizard This is self-explanatory. Caleb is a guy who plays a wizard or the full damage caster in every single game. This is who he is. He is great mechanically until you gotta discuss non-spell stuff. He did, in fact, read that portion of the rules, but it was never relevant to him, so he deleted it from his head. His spell choices and use are phenomenal though. He min-maxes but specifically for the weirdest, most niche element that is useful one time, but it is extremely clutch that one time it's relevant. He is also great at the storytelling portion, though his roleplaying can be a little dense or dry. If you can make him play something that's not a wizard, druid or bard. He will not play a healer druid or bard though.

Veth - Warlock She wants to make bad decisions in her games, and she loves that a warlock comes prepackaged with bad decisions. She has a solid grasp of her spellcasting mechanics, but also finds full casting intimidating. She loves the concept of being a wizard in theory but actually playing one stresses her out. She is a very loud and excitable player, which can be a lot of fun if, uh, loud. She fucking supports you and is into whatever it is you're doing, especially if it's so dumb to do. She is inventing the weirdest and most ambiguously intense patron relationship of all time. She also would enjoy paladins, rangers, artificers, and the fancier fighters (again, the Knights subclasses). She could be eased into cleric if a niche in the party is clear and her mechanical role is structured. She can totally handle full casting, including wizards, she just psyches / stresses herself out.

Jester - Bard I feel like people are going to be like "what about barbarian," but I think that Jester tried it once and the comparative lack of options made her really frustrated. She loves the idea of hitting things, but she hates it when 80% of her options is just hitting it. She is attracted to the charisma casters though, because she really likes the charisma skillset, and she really wants to cast a lot of spells. Out of the charisma caster options, she likes bards best because she loves being a little good at everything. She tends to be a little over-competitive about it and gets sulky when she doesn't feel useful enough. She is actually iffy on mechanical nitty-gritty, but her basics and groundwork is solid so it's fine, but she's a really great if melodramatic roleplayer and her social encounter work is great. She is deeply engaged in the narrative and is intensely invested in every NPC. Buys so fucking hard into the suspension of disbelief. She would like the fancier fighters and paladins better than a barbarian.

Molly - Bard He is playing the stereotype bard of everyone's nightmares. I will not further elaborate.

Caduceus - Ranger He does like to ask the plants and animals question in-game as well, and rangers let him do that and have a bit of magic too without being overwhelming as a class. He isn't super interested in doing complex characters; this is not being bad at D&D, to be clear, it's just a preference. He's your friend who is here to play a simple character because he just wants to hang out with you, which I think is always very sweet. That said, he is not very good mechanically. It's a lot of stuff to keep track of even with 5e being a little simpler. I think he would also like playing paladins or the straightforward fighters, or a cleric if he can decide what his niche is and stick to that specifically. He doesn't vibe with barbarians.

Yasha - Druid She is initially drawn to the class for the vibes (always a valid reason to be drawn to a class), but I think she enjoys having spellcasting options and options that aren't "hit it". She is a timid and awkward roleplayer who has a lot of trouble there, even though she has a lot of fun making up backstory and engaging with the lore and story. Her spellcasting is creative and experimental because she loves weird. She is one of the button pushers of the table and is giggling when she does it. (She and Veth are menaces, lmao, it's great.) I think she'd also enjoy bards, maybe clerics and warlocks, and the fancier fighters and rangers.

#RIP their nonexistent tankline #Critical Role things #long post for ts

[possamble]

do you have any particular thoughts regarding marcille being a half-elf? its interesting to me considering the fact that she seems self-conscious about being a half-elf, but denies it when its brought up

i remember marcille looking visibly uncomfortable over laios simply asking her how old she is, which i think the only reason she might feel nervous about this is because it might reveal her as a half-elf to him.

she's never corrected anybody whose called her an elf either.

never mind the circumstances of the reveal, in which thistle goes on about how half-elves are inferior and accusing her of wanting to become full blooded elf, she seemed particularly upset like he struck a nerve-

i wish the half-elf thing was built upon more. also, underrated marcille line:

okay so i revisited this sequence just to make sure I could back myself up and it's just... man. there's a lot going on.

the first reaction we get from Marcille is this huge panel that takes up half of the page

she is viscerally affected. flushing to the tips of her ears with the intensity of it. and we see it again, a few pages later

so it might seem like she's embarrassed about it and lying to herself, but... I really think it's just that Thistle is accidentally hitting sore spots. If you really look at what he says to get these reactions

"you'll live out your entire life [...] and die that way too"

"a hundred years from now, nobody will be there"

Hear me out. I think, if he stuck to harping on about her inferiority without bringing up how terrifyingly long-lived she is, she wouldn't have been as bothered. But right now, Thistle is accidentally hitting all the marks on Marcille's deepest fears-- and this is after the Winged Lion promised her that her dreams could come true in an extremely vulnerable moment, so it also hits her slightly guilty conscience as well.

I do truly believe that Marcille isn't bothered about being a half-elf the way that people assume she'd be bothered by it. To her, the biggest problem with being a half-elf is that it's isolating.

On one hand, it's not hard to imagine why she'd distance herself from elves in the west. A lot of them can clock her as a half-elf on sight, unlike other races, and therefore she's always branded with this weird stigma of being Othered -- I would even say that she considers herself lucky for being born outside of elven culture instead of having to grow up in it. I mean, just... look at the way elves talk about her.

Skipping past the uncomfortable implication of what 'not tolerating the existence' of half-elves would actually entail, this is incredibly fucking annoying. You can see why she wouldn't want to be around elves much. You see a lot of Marcille reacting badly here, but honestly, almost all of it can be attributed to her freaking out that her bluff completely failed. She's honestly more paying attention to Izutsumi's footsteps and trying to coordinate an opportunity to escape.

And in the end, you see her built-up frustration at being asked if she wants to be a full-blooded elf like 2-3 times in a row.

Yeah, yeah, "the lady doth protest too much," and all. But we know Marcille. We know that she's a lot more embarrassed and horrendously unconvincing when she's being prodded about something she's actually self-conscious about.

Moving onto the flipside of things, it might seem weird that she "pretends" to be a full elf around other races, but it's not really that strange if you think about it. Again, people are weird about her being infertile or whatever, and a lots of them don't even know much about what sets half-elves apart from everyone else. I mean, look at how uncomfortable Laios is just asking her about it

and look at how exasperated and resigned she looks

And like... she's right. Where would that come up in normal conversation? Why would she go out of her way to tell them? She's functionally a normal elf to other races anyway -- got the ears, the abnormally long "childhood", and the huge mana capacity. Unless it's directly relevant or important for people to know, I don't think it's all that strange or indicative of insecurity that she prefers not to bother with it.

(This combined with her sense of being an "outsider" to elf culture also explains why she thinks elf superiority is embarrassing. She sees the way elves treat short-lived races from the "outsider" perspective nonetheless, and thinks it's obnoxious; especially more so because she usually has to play the elf around short-lived races and deal with the reputation of arrogance that elves have built up.)

The sad thing is, this all means that... she doesn't actually fit in anywhere. She doesn't like going out West much because of how elves treat her. But she's also an outsider in the continents she was born in, treated like this exotic long-lived alien choosing to live among short-lived races for some reason. She is always an outsider, the Other, no matter where she goes. Add in the fact that she'll live longer than literally anyone she knows, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking.

And I think that's the crux of it. Marcille really doesn't act like she's at all self-conscious about being a half-elf because of any feelings of inferiority or being half-made or whatever. She considers herself a perfectly legitimate being and might even, in some ways, consider herself superior to normal elves because she's not blind with elf supremacy or whatever. (And whatever "elven biases" she displays, all of them are born more out of the fact that she's kind of bad at conceptualizing how other races age and mature compared to herself, not that she actually considers herself better or more mature simply for being an elf.)

I think that whatever self-consciousness Marcille has about being a half-elf is, instead, related to terror and loneliness. The reminder that it ensures she'll never truly belong anywhere for the rest of her very long life. The reminder that, in truth, even she's not actually sure how old she is by other races' standards (hence the discomfort when asked how old she is). She doesn't want to not be a half elf, or be a full elf or full tall-man-- in her ideal world, she's still a half-elf. She just gets to live out her life at the same pace with the people she loves and doesn't have to say goodbye again and again and again until she dies.

and one last very important panel, right after Mithrun tells her that all her desires would be devoured

In her ideal world, she's still a half-elf and reality magically starts marching at her pace. But failing that, the second best thing is that she's still a half-elf-- but one who is able to accept reality and let go of her fear.

(But the rest of the story pans out the way it does because, to Marcille, taking reality apart and reshaping it was less scary than simply and fully reconciling with it.)

#asks #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #marcille donato #manga panel analysis #this is probably riddled with typos sorry #readmore cut bc it got long lmao #i ended up babbling about it bc it's such an important character detail to me #bc like... wow. she's so normal about it. she's literally just chilling. #the only thing that really bothers her is the material reality of it and how people treat her #the stereotypes the stigma etc. etc. #otherwise it just.. #literally doesn't factor into her criteria for self-worth at all #the basic truth is that marcille likes herself on a fundamental level #she's not plagued by a deep and festering self-loathing the way a lot of characters in her archetype are #she likes herself and is proud of her successes and accomplishments #its just that shes terrified of failure and can have *episodes* of self-loathing when she fucks up #but who doesn't yknow #i know its a very slight nuance that makes very little difference in how her 'overachiever' problems manifest but its there #the sword of abandonment issues that hangs over her head has nothing to do with her self-worth or self-esteem or meeting her own standards #it has to do with the fear of not living up to *other* people's expectations and not being useful enough to be worth keeping around #she's good enough for herself but she's always so so so scared that she's not good enough for other people #i wont say much about what ryoko kui is saying using this as an allegory for real world racial biases but #dungeon meshi's treatment of marcille's relationship with her being half-elf is so incredibly important to me because it gets it so right. #a trauma about inferiority or being a half-being isn't inherent to the experience of being 'of two worlds' at all #that's something that's unfairly drilled into people by their environment #the *inherent* anguish is the loneliness. the constant longing. the fact that you are always homesick no matter where you are #always just a little bit of an outsider and never fully at home #and dungeon meshi gets that. #edit: cleaned it up a little

[tranquil-ivy]

Leon definitely did this for all his wife’s pregnancies but I think for Scottie in particular, she’s a lot older, probably got really self conscious when she started to gain weight and look more pregnant. Particularly when she’s in her third trimester, and she’s got a baby bump. Her clothes don’t fit at all and she’s uncomfortable. Of course she’s done this before but it’s different now. He’d go out of his way to make her feel beautiful, to let her know she’s still gorgeous to him. She’s also extra sensitive right now, and he’d be so gentle with her, and make sure his girls knew to be careful with what they say and do

Leon in general is affectionate to his family, especially his wife. He's extra affectionate when she's pregnant but this time around it's like he's a whole different kind of supportive man.

Constantly checking in, even a few times throughout the day. I'd imagine she goes a little stir crazy during pregnancy cause she's not able to work (Terrasave would definitely not let a pregnant woman around virus strains cause God forbid anything happen!)

Whenever he can be, Leon's home. Constantly being on the edge of overbearing but knows his limits by now with her, this ain't their first rodeo together after all. But the last two times you could bounce back pretty easily. Now this is considered a late in life or as the doctor so lovingly called it a "geriatric pregnancy" since you'd be in your 40s by now.

You can't help but dwell on all the possible issues or how you'll be after. HOW YOU'LL LOOK AFTER!

Will Leon still find you appealing?

You're honest enough with each other to come forward and talk about problems big or small. You've literally held him through full on breakdowns before. He's cared for you when postpartum hit you after having Cecilia and you felt like less of a mother for not connecting with her right away like with Violet. You're each other's rocks. Of course he'd still love you and find you just as gorgeous as the moment he laid his eyes on you.

He tells you not to worry about clothes, they're just clothes. They can fit again eventually. But he knows how you find comfort in having him around somehow. So you two start sharing a wardrobe. Sweats, t-shirts, and his jackets. It's nice having him there even if it's not physically. Even just his cologne stuck to his jacket collar is nice against your sensitive pregnancy nose. And he gets the benefit of watching you walk around in his clothes. And smiling in the bask of your glow.

He'd sit down with the girls in one of their rooms while you were napping and give them the talk. Being completely honest about how mommy's sensitive and they all need to stay aware of everything while she's like this. Cecilia wouldn't get it right away, obviously, she's younger. But Violet would understand. She'd even get into the habit of checking in on her mom and micro managing her sister whenever something came up. Talking on the responsibilities of making sure she kept her entertained so Leon could spend time with you.

It really does take a village to raise a child and you're very lucky to have people who care. To have raised 2 great girls already and have a husband who loves you unconditionally.

#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x fem reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader

[baby--charchar]

A writing blurb/wip/however you'd like to call it. TBH I'm more self conscious about actually WRITING OUT STORIES, so I wouldn't mind constructive feedback.

‘Charlie had a rough day’ was a blatant understatement of how horribly shit hit the fan that day. But you wouldn't know it just by looking at her demeanor.

When a random gang tried to rob the hotel that morning, she handled it. When the entire septic system on the 7th floor exploded, she handled it. When Vaggie and Angel got in a screaming match over his ever growing drug stashes, she handled it.

It seemed that no matter how terrible, scary, or unexpected her challenges got, she kept smiling, kept going like she wasn't bearing the weight of so much on her shoulders already.

Of course, everyone cracks eventually. In some way or another. Charlie would like to think that she was using age regression to help mitigate those cracks. When she was feeling little, it was okay if she threw a tantrum occasionally or get snippy with Dad or Vaggie. If she let out a little bit of the pressure at a time, in a safe space surrounded by safe people, she'd be okay enough to keep smiling the next day. Of course, things don't always balance out like that in the end, especially with how much energy Charlie spent repressing negative feelings.

Upon coming home to their suite on the hotel's highest floor, Charlie collapsed on the floor in front of the TV. Vaggie watched her calmly.

“You feeling okay, hun?”

Charlie shrugged and brought her fingers up towards her mouth. Vaggie caught that glassy look in her eyes taking over.

“Feeling little?”

After a pause, Charlie nodded her head. Vaggie bent down to kiss her cheek before stepping around her.

“Okay, Princessa. Let me grab your things. Can I call your dad, or do you want it to be just us tonight?”

“...Call Daddy.”

“Call Daddy. I can definitely do that.” Vaggie had Lucifer on speed dial for these nights. He loved getting to visit Charlie when she was regressed, and they've healed their relationship a lot the past few months together. He was also great to tag-team with whenever Vaggie need a break.

After a quick chat on the phone, Vaggie refocused on Charlie. She grabbed one of her favorite outfits to wear in littlespace: a red, long-sleeve dress with gold foil hearts all over it; soft, stretched out black leggings; fuzzy pink socks; and the only part of it that Charlie hated, a simple pink pull-up without any designs or characters on it. Charlie genuinely struggled controlling her bladder when she regressed. Vaggie thought that it may have something to do with her brain not communicating with her “big girl” body properly. But while Charlie definitely needed them, she hated having to use pull-ups with every fiber of her being.

Vaggie approached her quietly, sitting down beside her curled-up form on the plush red carpet.

“Can I get you dressed, Princessa?”

“Mm…kay…” Charlie hummed. Vaggie smiled softly and started unbuttoning her clothes. Pants, blouse, bra, then underwear. Charlie wasn't all that helpful in the process, but thankfully she let Vaggie roll her around a bit in order to wrestle all her clothes off. Vaggie slipped the red dress over her head and pulled her arms through. She already looked so cute in her favorite cozy dress.

Vaggie stretched the pull-up out and subtly slipped it into the leggings. With one swift motion she got them both over Charlie's bottom, and thankfully avoided any fussing or tantrums over the oh-so-offensive pull-up. Lastly, she slipped Charlie's socks on and undid her ponytail.

There, cute as a button.

Charlie sat up with a dazed look on her face.

“Oh, my little one is so tired this evening. It's been a rough day, huh?” Charlie quietly placed her fingers and thumb in her mouth. 

“Oh, nuh uh uh mi amor. I got your binki. Let's try that with a binki.” Vaggie slipped a bright pink pacifier into Charlie's mouth, but no sooner had she done that, Charlie ripped it out and threw it at the wall behind Vaggie's head.

“No!” Charlie snapped. Vaggie blinked.“...Okay. That's fine. But listen to me-  Charlie, listen- be sweet tonight. Daddy's coming over and you know you wanna be kind to him, right?” Charlie scowled at the floor. Vaggie sighed. Oh lord, here we go again. Rough days lead to rough nights I guess, she thought begrudgingly.

#hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel agere #cg!lucifer #little!charlie #cg!vaggie #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #lucifer morningstar

[hazelsstupidshit]

Alright I normally never write anything so im a bit rust so bear with me. (this is also after I listened to bff and just knew it had to be Tim fucking Laflour)

minors dni oral fem receiving missionary unprotected sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yn had went into college dating the same boy since junior high Darryl Witherspoon. she really cared about him but noticed he distanced himself from her and had eyes for another girl. Darryl grew apart from her after her bipolar got worse. She would often become manic and pierce or tattoo herself. On the flip side she would get depressed and not socialize or get out of bed which then led her to gain weight. Darryl didn't like her new appearance it wasn't the girl he fell in love with. Once he got space from her by moving into a new dorm he met his dormmate Tim he knew she'd get along with him. This was fine since he'd been thinking about dumping her for a month. He had too much on his plate to even think about keeping her around. Once YN received a text from her boyfriend reading the message she had a gut feeling. It felt like her heart sank out of her ass. She fought tears back as she walked toward his dorm. She knew he would dump her eventually. So why was she so upset? She questioned herself and wondered if she was just being dramatic. Once she arrived Tim opened the door for her and held it for her as a welcome. When she saw Darryl kissing another girl. She was the complete opposite of what she looked like she had a small frame no piercings or tattoos and brown hair. Yn felt extremely self conscious as she ran her fingers through her black hair it had a blue tint since her last color hair color was a bright blue. Tim was concerned after seeing the girls reaction to what he thought was normal.

yn pov

I ran into the dorms bathroom to hide my tears. I stared at myself in the mirror comparing myself to who he was kissing. She wore a floral baby tee and light jeans. I felt like shit compared to her. I was wearing a bleached deftones shirt and a pair of black shorts and knee socks. I stared at myself to the point where tears eventually stained myself. My mascara and eyeliner dripped into my eyes the burning feeling distracted me from hearing steps approaching the door. I heard a soft knock and I fumed thinking it was Darryl. About to flip my shit I opened the door and met icy blue eyes and my face dropped from anger to a shocked expression.

Tim asked if I was alright and stepped closer to me automatically I backed up to allow him in. He explained to me that he thought me and Darryl were just friends since he noticed he was distant. If he had known he would've told me since we had been close ourselves. We bonded over the bands I listened to and our similar piercings. He sat on the tub and looked up to wipe the mess of black tears off my eyes and cheeks. When he pulled me into a hug I realized how I had felt about Tim. In that moment I felt a strong urge to just kiss him. I listened to what my body wanted me to do. I leaned in to kiss him and he surprisingly kissed back.

After I pulled away I apologized realizing what I had done. He told me it was okay and I leaned in once again. His nose ring hooked into my septum ring during the kiss and he smiled in the kiss. I giggled as he pulled the out. For the first time in what felt like ages a mixture of lust and pure joy filled my body making my heart skip a beat. He noticed my expression and smiled himself. Tim led me to his bed and we continued our make out.

Tim's pov

I knew that i had to check on her. Something drove me to although I had anxiety approaching the door I heard sniffling and knew she was crying. She was my best friend and I could tell what had been going on. The urge to knock on the door muted my anxiety. When I knocked she answered looking angry but her face dropped as we locked eyes. I stepped in and did my best to comfort her and we eventually ended up kissing. To me she was the prettiest girl without trying mascara dripping and puffy eyes. I wished I could hold her forever. The kiss melted me she knows most of my secrets except one. She was all I wanted in a girl. Whenever she would come over all I could think about was her body. I would zone out thinking about caressing her curves. I frequently daydreamed about holding her big thighs on the sides of my head as she moans of pleasure while my tongue laps her clit.

Yn pov again

After we were on his bed I straddled his hips with mine carefully avoiding his belly button piercing I didn't realize how low my hips were on his. Kissing him I noticed his hard on pressing my thighs. I left love bites on his neck as his hands my hips then my waist until they met my tits. Without thinking I moaned which called Darryl to recognize the moan he had heard countless of times before. Darryl walked into the shared room. As if it were nothing he closed the door and walked to his bed and passed out probably drunk. Tim didn't care he unzipped his skinny jeans and pulled my shirt over my head. He tossed out clothes somewhere in the room. Tim flipped us over so he was on top and took off his shirt. He helped me out of my shorts and pulled his shirt off. He towered over me staring at my body in admiration as I did his. He had abs and his arms flexed as propped himself up over me. Our eyes darkened in lust and our lips met each other again. perfect fit he muttered. He was right his lip piercing fit between my snake bites every time we kissed. One hand toyed with my nipple ring while the other rubbed circles around my clit. I gripped the sheets beneath me as he moved down between my thighs. he spread the apart his muscles becoming more apparent. He kelt rubbing circles on my clit while tongue fucking me mercilessly. I saw him grinding against the sheets seeking friction. The sight sent me over the edge as I came with a loud moan. He licked me clean and moved back up to align himself with my entrance he pushed himself into me quickly filling me up. He moaned into the sheets slightly above my head I whimpered at the stretch. "So tight" he muttered under his breath. I blushed at the praise. He whispered to me begging me to keep moaning he wanted to hear me. He was panting throwing his head back when he heard my whimpers as he pounded into me. With every thrust we edged up the bed slightly. He groaned when he felt my walls clench around him hitting my g spot with his prince albert. He sped up reaching his climax he covered my neck big blotchy hickeys all over my neck his cum painted my walls and sent me over the edge I let out my loudest moan as my eyes rolled back. He thrusted his hips a few more times before pulling out his seed dripping out with it. He cleaned me up before laying down with me he fell asleep holding me in his arms I felt safe and genuinely loved.

#tim laflour #matthew lillard smut #matthew lillard x reader

[rockybloo]

(I think you said something about the boys' pecs recently, which made me think of this)

Some Dickhead: Nice tits!

Nana & Sweetheart: *ready to murder*

Jack & Bitterbat, genuinely: Thanks!

Jack & Bitterbat to their ladies: Don't worry [pet name,] yours are my favorite. <3

I got two very different derivative scenarios in my head of how I see something like this playing out for Jack and Bitterbat because they are complete opposites in their personality.

For Licorice, I can see a situation where some dude tries to catcall Amara and Bitterbat (in his Ace disguise) gets between her and said person and goes "Aw thank you!" To redirect the harassment towards him because he knows his bust is big.

And said dude would get uncomfortable bc because Ace is a TALL ass guy...but also a guy.

But if he tries to defend or say he was talking about Amara, Ace will get that deadly golden glow in his eye and his voice would lower as he warns "No. You were talking about me."

The cat caller would def feel the vibes his life is in the line and go "Y-yes sir! You have g-great tits" before scurrying away with their tail between their legs.

Amara would say thanks since she appreciates Bitterbat standing up for her as well as him restraining himself from murder or maiming.

And Bitterbat would just purr and kiss her on the cheek with a "No problem Sweetie Pie."

In a Red Beans situation, I see it playing out as someone trying to be a dick to Jack and him being oblivious at first because "Do I look like I have boobs???" So he lets out a confused thanks and later on, he brings up the situation to Nana.

Then he asks her if she thinks he has boobs. He wouldn't ask in a self conscious way but rather a curious tone and she'd say she likes his chest and its squish and he'd blush and begin feeling so happy that he forgets the dickhead from before.

#ask #ask: Beanstalked #ask: red beans #ask: glitter and guilt #ask: licorice #ask: jack #ask: nana #ask: Bitterbat #ask: Sweetheart

[dootznbootz]

do you have a physical description of how penelope looks in your head??

lksjdf OH MY FUCKING GOD I ABSOLUTELY DO AND SHE'S HOT

Thank you for the ask, Niko!!!! :D

Thick straight black hair, no curls AT ALL. (Telemachus gets it all from Odysseus) And basically "Silver eyes" with larger pupils (being a naiad. (Odysseus is a very CLEAR "You're Athena's blorbo" but Penelope is sneaky with EVERYTHING she does. )

I have it where both Helen and Penelope have black hair and blue eyes (I don't want to spoil but it's very important in my fics) but that's where their physical similarities end. Helen's eyes will "strike you down. like her father's thunder" aka her eyes kind of stun you. honestly, if she were to close her eyes she'd be like any other human. still incredibly beautiful but not "bewitching" in "I can now think". Sometimes Helen will close her eyes if she realizes someone is kind of stunned to give them their "mind" back. Penelope's are silvery blue (Athena actually spoke to her before she spoke to Odysseus 😳 it was just by a few months though.) and Odysseus explains it where Helen's are about "force" in a way, as a child of Zeus. Penelope's "water you down" aka they expose you, erode you, like a river would. His eyes are stormy gray.

S-She…She splits his storms clouds 😭 and makes him "reveal himself"!!!!!!

So for the Spartan girls I have "sport talents" as:

Penelope: Swimming (duh), running, boxing (or ancient Greek Pankration!!! Look it up!!! it's neat!!!), She is VERY about swiftness and strategy. Hitting the "openings in armor" type of gal. Weakpoints.

Helen: Wrestling, Javelin, and Spear work all around. Girl is STRONG. She will FLATTEN you. Paris is LUCKY he had the power of god and anime on his side.

Clytemnestra: Chariot racing Horse girl, discus. She's very good with aim and direction...Foreshadowing with a certain axe OwO

And yes, all these girls constantly challenge each other. (Although probably gonna have Clytemnestra older. (my timeline was fixed with your idea, thehelplessmortals 😭))

Because Penelope is into boxing she has a bit of a crooked nose. While she's a naiad and can heal, her nose was one of the first BIG healing she did on herself. It's something she's a bit self-conscious about. (Odysseus broke Irus' fucking JAW in the Odyssey with one blow. I have it where these two were GOOD boxers.)

Because of that she's kind of built like a lightweight MMA Fighter. She's got broad shoulders basically no bust but... if you were to look at her you wouldn't think anything. She's quite short and "small" (the whole being born in a pond thing, one month early. goes with her duck myth) and while she's muscular it's one of those, "She has to flex to see it". (something she uses to her advantage) I like the thought of her being "sneaky" and "unassuming" in every possible way but then pulling the rug out from under you. >:D HOT GIRL SHIT.

With her being a Naiad she's quite pretty. She's like, an "average Naiad" though (she takes quite a bit after her dad). And ofc, she has the sharp teeth and pointed ears!

The thing is though, while in Sparta and other areas, Nymph/mortal marriages are common...Not so much on Ithaca. Nymphs are kind of reclusive there. So when she comes to Ithaca, she kind of intimidates others. :') And people don't know how to be around her for like, the first six months causing her to feel even lonelier than most who leave their homes to rule with their new spouse. (Menelaus has plenty of friends in Sparta for example) other than Odysseus, and her in-laws, who ofc dote on her and adore her. (Odysseus' parents were thankful he finally found someone he actually LIKES. even better that she's really cool.) Odysseus is trying SO hard to make her feel welcome by the whole kingdom though, introducing her to the Naiads there. (was a culture shift at first) but their subjects were...a bit SCARED of her. (also her being from another place.)

Rando: "My king…You know your wife…she uh… she eats raw fish. That she catches in her MOUTH" Odysseus: "And?? She's a better fisher than you ever were."

Rando: "Are you not afraid of your wife's sharp teeth?!" Odysseus: "Fear her grin?? I'm no fool or coward; it's my goal. Say shit like that again and I'll kill you"

That's like, the first 6 months though and their fears go away very quickly after as she does some things that help the island her "coming into her own" as queen :D

People start questioning things again when fertility becomes a possible issue :'( but OdyPen push through all their tough times 😤

#lskdjf ahhhhh I love them all!!! I have a lot of thoughts on my reasons behind this. #If I could draw it would be mostly memes and me just going NUTS. #Mad rambles #odypen #shot by odysseus #my headcanons #!!! #ask #nikoisme #thank you for the ask!!! #Water Wife #Mad character design

[girlgenius1111]

we don't have to talk about it

part 2 of cool about it because you're all depressed

warnings: heavy descriptions of depression + depressive thoughts. self harm. maybe we'll make reader go to therapy in the next installment.

also i didn't proofread this purely so i can read it before bed and feel all warm and fuzzy inside

Alexia made a conscious effort to be more attentive to your mood, noticing highs and lows. You still struggled to let her in, and tell her when you weren't doing well, but it was improving. Mostly because of how persistent she was.

Alexia knowing, and just being there, was so helpful. It had been so long since you'd really struggled, and things were going well in your life, generally, so it caught you off guard when things started to worsen.

It was a few months after Alexia really learned about the depths of you mental health struggles, and both of you were incredibly busy. So busy, in fact, that neither of you really noticed that you weren't doing well. You chalked up your low energy to exhaustion from the season, and stress, and Alexia didn't think to question it.

It only hit you, what was really going on, when the Alexia left on national duty, and you remained in Barcelona. While England had been eliminated from the Nations League, you still had friendlies to play, but you'd picked up a minor concussion, and stayed behind, not wanting to risk anything for a friendly.

10 days without Alexia was not something you were looking forward too, and 10 days without Alexia, while you couldn't practice, sounded pretty awful. Maybe this is what caused your slump, or maybe it was some combination of the concussion and being alone with nothing to do. Or maybe, it was just something that happened.

You liked to think you had the depression beat, completely managed. Trying to find a cause to attribute your low mood too was your way of convincing yourself that you were fine. Normally it worked.

A few days after Alexia left, you realized what was going on. You had returned from dropping her at the airport, immediately falling asleep on the couch. You normally didn't nap, only when you weren't feeling right, so when you woke up a few hours later, you were already suspicious. This suspicion only remained over the next couple days, growing with each irritating symptom.

Leaving the house was an ordeal. You tried to get out everyday, you really did, but everything made your head hurt, and it was so much easier to stay in. And you were so, so, tired. Exhaustion that settled in your bones, that didn't fade even marginally, no matter how much you slept. You found yourself stressing over simple things, like what to reply to Alexia's good morning text, or what to eat for lunch. You made excuses for why you couldn't spend time with your teammates that had also remained in Barcelona, because none of them were Alexia, and Alexia was all you wanted.

You just didn't feel right. All you wanted to do was lay down and do nothing. Something within you ached, and you couldn't get rid of it. And with the ache, came insecurity. All the progress you'd made, letting Alexia see this part of you, vanished as soon as things got a little harder than normal. You had a lot of time to think, and think you did. About how sure you were that Alexia really didn't wan't to deal with this, with you like this.

Part of you wanted her, desperately, and the other part wouldn't allow it. It was so confusing, like all your emotions were contradicting each other. As a result, you pulled back a little. Answering her texts with shorter responses, making excuses about why you couldn't call. You told yourself that it was because you wanted her to focus on the games she was playing. Really, it was because you knew the minute she talked to you for more than 5 minutes, she'd know something wasn't right.

You were used to the decent into feeling worthless when you were depressed. It had never quite been this bad before; the regular feelings seemed to combine with the immense guilt you felt. Guilt for not letting Alexia in, and for letting her in too much. For not being strong enough to go 10 days without her, just 10 days, without completely collapsing. The guilt made you feel worse, until it was almost unbearable. Until it was unbearable. That was around day 7.

Day 9 was when you did the thing you promised yourself that you would never do again. You couldn't help it, really. Everything in your brain was screaming at you that you weren't good, weren't trying hard enough, weren't good enough at anything.

In hindsight, maybe trying to get rid of guilt by doing something that had, historically, made you feel incredibly guilty, was not the best plan. With each cut, the guilt weighing on you grew, until it stopped. Until there was nothing, you felt nothing, except the sharp sting on your thigh. You finally had a moment of peace, but it didn't last long.

Because, fuck, Alexia was going to be home tomorrow. Perfect, sweet Alexia, who took herself so seriously, and who blamed herself whenever anything went wrong.

You didn't cry, you didn't think you could, but you wanted to. As you disinfected and bandaged your thigh, you wished that you would feel the sting of tears in your eyes, but none came. Tears would have been a sign that you were coming out of this, whatever was happening to you.

You went to bed that night, not setting an alarm because you didn't need to get Alexia from the airport until the afternoon. You drifted off, buried on her side of the bed, wearing only her clothes, clinging to her pillow desperately. Every movement you made stung your leg, and you were reminded of what you'd done to yourself. You couldn't remember the last time it had been this bad, this heavy, this incapacitating. Your last thoughts before you fell asleep was how the hell you were going to keep this from Alexia.

-----

Alexia wasn't really sure what was going on. You'd seemed fine when she left, concussed and tired, but fine. As the days passed, she noticed you pull away. It was a busy break, and she had meetings on top of training and games. Her little free time was spent worrying, wondering if you were mad at her. It was the only thing she could think of, because you'd been so good about telling her when you weren't feeling right.

Her worry had grown so much that her friends got tired of how distracted she was, and told her to just fly back early if she was so concerned.

She only landed a few hours earlier, in the morning, getting an uber to your guys' apartment. Alexia was sure she'd find you mad at her, about something, and was prepared to do anything to fix it. What she wasn't expecting was to find you sitting on the couch, wrapped in one of her blankets, staring at the door as she walked in as if she'd caught you cheating on her or something.

"Ale?" you wondered, "I- I was gonna get you from the airport. Later. What are you doing here?"

Something wasn't right. You weren't mad, which she would've preferred to the empty look on your face. Normally when you guys reunited, even after only a couple days apart, you greeted her with a hug, and kisses. You were sitting, frozen, on the couch though.

"I came earlier, I missed you," she said, watching carefully as she spoke. "Can I have a hug, amor?"

At that, you seemed to realize that Alexia really was here, right in front of you, and you launched yourself off the couch, around the coffee table, and into her arms.

"Oof- hola mi bebé," she said, catching you in her arms with a huff. You clung to her, desperately, and she returned the embrace, as you buried your face in her chest. She was startled to feel that you were trembling slightly in her embrace. She tightened her arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head, before pulling away, and cradling your face with her hands.

"What's wrong? You're shaking."

"Just a long week. I missed you." You replied, but you wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Okay... if you say so. I need to shower. Want to join me?" She asked, hoping to distract you from whatever was wrong. She was well versed in how to get you to talk, and distracting you until she could catch you off guard was one sure way.

Alexia watched as your face brightened slightly, and you opened your mouth to say yes. Suddenly though, a look of panic crossed your face, your mouth snapped shut, and you shook your head.

"No, I... No I don't feel like showering." You told her shakily. You winced internally, realizing you probably could have come up with a better excuse than that. You couldn't shower with her though, couldn't let her see you. See what you'd done. She'd been with you through a lot, but never this. Never with something this bad.

Alexia was looking at you, very carefully. As different explanations for why you wouldn't want to shower with her flew through her head, an explanation that covered how panicked you had been when you said no, she settled on a clear answer. One that made her heart sink, and one that explained your odd behavior the past 10 days.

You knew you were caught, the look on her face told you that she'd put it together. She softened, looking at you so gently, it made you want to collapse into her arms.

"Mi amor-" She started, but you interrupted.

"I have to go. I have an errand to run, I need to go," You said, because you couldn't deal with this. You just couldn't. You tried to head for the door, but Alexia's grip on you was strong, one hand holding your wrist, the other wrapping around your waist, pulling you into her.

"No, bebé, I need you to stay here," she cooed into your ear and you shook your head frantically.

"No, Ale, please, I need to go," you said, struggling against her, and she felt tears pooling in her eyes at the desperation with which you spoke. Alexia didn't respond, simply kissing your cheek a few times until she felt you go limp in her arms, abandoning your fight.

Alexia picked you up easily, cradling you in her arms, and made her way to your bedroom. As she walked in, she noticed that your side of the bed was untouched. On her pillow, one of her sweatshirts was crumpled there, as if you'd been holding it as you slept. She didn't understand why you hadn't called her. You'd clearly needed her, desperately, but you'd suffered in silence. She set you down on the edge of the bed, and you stared at the floor.

Kneeling in between your legs, she looked up at you. "Y/n, what happened?" She asked carefully.

"I don't know. It just got so out of control and I didn't know what else to do." You replied, still refusing to meet her eyes. She wanted to shout that you could have called her, could have asked her for help. That wouldn't do anything, though, so she just nodded.

"Come shower with me, please. Then we can just hangout until you're ready to talk," she said, and you knew there was no other option. You nodded, and she stood, tilting your chin up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "I love you." She told you, figuring that you might need to hear it.

"I love you too." you replied, giving her a weak smile.

Alexia took your hand, and led you into the bathroom. She turned the shower on, setting it to the exact temperature you would have, and your heart clenched at the small gesture. She turned back to you, and you felt your lip start to tremble, knowing what you needed to do.

"Mi niña bonita, it's going to be okay, I promise." She said, noticing the tears in your eyes. She gently tugged your top and bra off, trailing kisses down your chest and stomach as she kneeled in front of you. There was nothing sexual about the actions, she was simply trying to bring you any comfort she could. She rested her hands on the waistband of the sweatpants you had on, looking up at you, waiting for you to be ready.

"Are you mad?" you asked, squeezing your eyes shut.

"No. I'm not mad, I could never be mad. Not for this," she promised, and you opened your eyes, looking down at her. She was looking up at you, green eyes wide with such sincerity, you nodded, giving her the go ahead.

Alexia tugged your pants and underwear down together, carefully lifting the waistband over the bandage on your thigh. She worked to keep her face neutral, which was hard. The brown bandage covered up so much of your thigh, all of your old scars were covered by it. She bit her lip, trying to withhold her emotions for now. You needed her, which she was reminded when she looked back up at you, to see you staring at the ceiling.

"Amor, can I take this off?" she asked. Now that she knew you had clearly properly cared for the cuts, she didn't need to take the bandage off, and she wouldn't make you. She wanted to see, though, see how bad it was. She had to know, if she was going to be able to help. One cut was a lot different than ten.

You looked back down at her, taking a second before answering. everything in you was telling you to say no, but hiding things hadn't been working so well. It was what got you on the bathroom floor with a razor blade yesterday, and now, with your girlfriend kneeled at your feet, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your thigh.

"I'll do it," you told her, taking a deep breath. You reached your hands down from where they held tight to the counter, ignoring the way they shook. You tugged on the bandage, not bothering to be gentle as you peeled it off. You wouldn't look, you couldn't. You heard Alexia's intake of breath at the sight, and you felt a tear drop from your face. You felt something featherlight touch the partially healed cuts, and you looked down on instinct. Alexia was placing a light kiss on every cut, and you couldn't hold back anymore.

Letting out a sob, you cried harder than you had in a long time. "I'm sorry, Ale, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Alexia was up in a flash, cradling you against her as you cried. Her hands rubbed up and down your bare back as she spoke quietly in your ear.

"It's okay, you don't need to be sorry, mi amor. I love you. It's all going to be okay. Estoy aquí, no voy a ninguna. Te tengo, para siempre," she murmured.

She got you to stop crying, if only slightly, and pulled you into the shower, after taking her own clothes off. It was a blur, you knew she washed your hair, and you knew she was talking to you the whole time, but suddenly, you were sitting on the bed again, and she was carefully wrapping up your thigh.

"Feel okay?" she asked, once she'd secured the bandage on. You told her it did and she sent you a soft smile, before pulling clothes on you both. Alexia gave you your favorite sweatshirt of hers, an old Barca crewneck, and herself pulled on one of yours, a grey, ripped and faded hoodie, that she swore was the softest thing you owned.

Carefully, she brushed your hair out, tying it back in a loose braid, knowing you hated when your wet hair got your shirt all wet. She brushed through her own hair quickly, not daring to leave your side. It was silent as she did so. You were truly astounded with the level of care with which she was treating you. It made you feel like the thoughts that had been swirling around your brain for days might be wrong.

Alexia made the bed, then, knowing you preferred to lay on top of the covers with a blanket during the day, before laying down, and opening her arms for you to join her. You crawled up the bed, settling down with your back to her chest, lacing your fingers with hers, and pulling her arms to wrap around your body.

It was calming, feeling the rise and fall of your girlfriend's chest under you, feeling her chin rest lightly on the top of your head. Alexia wasn't sure what to say, where to start. She had so many questions. Luckily, it had seemed you'd found your voice, as you spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you it was bad again," you rasped, throat somewhat raw from crying.

"Why didn't you?" she questioned.

"It wasn't on purpose at first. And then suddenly it was so bad and I didn't want you to know. I was worried it would be too much. I felt so guilty, like I was letting you down by not calling, but like I couldn't burden you with it."

Alexia hummed in response, thinking carefully about her next words. "Bebé, did you really think I'd be mad at you?"

"Yeah. When I get like this, I just. Convince myself that I'm not good enough for you, and I'm so scared that if I mess up, you'll leave."

"I'm not leaving. Ever. No matter what," she promised. "Can you tell me why? What were you thinking that made you do that to yourself?" You took a deep breath at her words, and you felt her arms tighten around you, just slightly.

"I felt like a bad person. I couldn't even make it 10 days without you, I was such a mess. I couldn't feel anything, but this insane guilt, all I could hear was my brain telling me that I'm not good. I just needed it to stop." It was the most you'd ever told anyone. You felt Alexia deserved an actual explanation, and you trusted her. You really did, even though sometimes it seemed like you didn't. It was you that you didn't trust as much.

"Did it work?"

"For a bit. Then all I could think was that you were going to be disappointed in me." You felt her shake her head behind you.

"Never. You are good, mi niña, you are so good. You are kind, and thoughtful, and you always make me laugh. When I get to make you smile, it's better than scoring 100 goals in Camp Nou. You are the most important thing to me."

"And it makes me chest hurt, to think of you doing this, to think that your thoughts were so bad, you didn't feel like you had another choice. You always have another choice, mi amor. You can always call me when you need me. When you feel like that, and your brain isn't being very nice to you, I will remind you every time that it's wrong." she paused.

"And I don't want you to feel like you need to hide it from me if you hurt yourself. I want to know, because I love you, and I care about you, and I want you to be safe, and happy, and healthy. I'll never be mad, mi amor. I want to help, but I can only do that if you let me, if you trust me," she finished, wishing she could see your face.

"I trust you. I promise I do, I just got so scared that it would be too much this time."

"You will never be too much for me," she responded firmly.

"I promise that if this happens again, I'll tell you. I promise," you repeated, promising yourself as well. Alexia kissed the top of your head in response. You shifted on top of her, rolling onto your stomach, resting your chin on her chest to look at her. Her thumb came up to gently wipe a tear off your face.

"Thank you. I know you said you don't mind, that you aren't mad, but you don't have to be as perfect, as patient, as you are."

"You are perfect, mi niña, you'll always be perfect. My most perfect girl," she said. You couldn't find a trace of doubt in her face. You looked up at her for a few more seconds, and she looked down at you, watching as you decided whether or not to speak.

"What is it?" she asked gently, watching as you fought back tears once again.

"It's stupid," you replied, and she raised an eyebrow at you. "I was clean for 4 years, and now I'm not. I have to go back to day 1, Ale, and I don't know how." You told her, vulnerability clear on your face.

"That's not stupid, not at all. We'll do it again, together. It'll be easier this, time because I'm not letting you do any of it alone. We'll get you to 4 years again, and 5 and 6. And if you slip up, we'll deal with that too. You aren't doing this by yourself, we'll figure it out. I promise."

"How do you always know what to say?" you asked, sniffling.

She chuckled lightly, and it was the first real smile you'd seen on her face since she'd walked through the door. "Because I know you, and I know how your brain works. I know that it's telling you, all the time, that I'm going to leave. All I need to do is promise that I'm not going anywhere, because I'm not. Being here, it's the easiest thing in the world, because you are so easy to love, so easy to be with."

Alexia tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an adoring face that you couldn't help but return. The force of her love for you tended to knock you off your feet, sometimes. You only really believed it, believed her, because you knew it was how you felt about her. You saw your love for her reflected in her eyes at you, and if anything was going to get you through this, it was the knowledge that she wanted to be here. That she loved you, no matter what. You knew she'd make you love yourself again, whatever it took.

-----

try to end one of my fics without both girls going to sleep challenge. i hope everything made sense. i feel like it's really hard to describe how i feel when i'm depressed, and i don't want to make it so specific that people will have a hard time relating. anyway, if you read this and it resonated with you at all, i hope you're doing okay. And if you're not, you will be. i promise. <3 i love you all

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[thechaoticdruid]

~My Tav for roleplay and story purposes~

Name: Winnie (Winnifred)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Class: Druid (Her favorite form being the direwolf. I also like to imagine she has some doggy-like characteristics because of it lol), she's also multi-classing as a wizard for reasons.

Age: 23

Race: Human

Hair: Reddish brown

Eyes: Pink

Height: 5'3

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (With a bit of a good lean I suppose)

Love interest: Astarion

Backstory: Winnifred was raised deep in a hidden forest village, amongst her fellow druids. Her grandmother was the archdruid of their circle and took to raising her after Winnie's parents went missing (aka the likely died horribly on an adventure.) Winnie lived a peaceful, but boring life in the village for thirteen years until eventually it was raided by goblins and everyone she'd known and loved was slaughtered before her very eyes. Winnie was captured by the horde's leader, a strange drow wizard who only allowed her to live because he thought she'd be the perfect test subject for his 'experiments'. She never learned his name, but since the event his face has haunted her nightmares. Winnie remained his lab rat for weeks following the raid. Eventually however her suffering came to an end when a band of adventurers came to her rescue. Apparently they were old friends of the family though she had never once met any of them. They freed her from the prison she'd been held in before setting fire to the goblins camp, killing every last one of the circle's murderers....Well all except for the drow...

Sometime after that Winnie was taken in by Arva, a half elf who just so happened to be the leader of her rescuers. She brought Winnie back to her group's hideout in Baldur's Gate's under city and for ten years Winnie learned how to survive on the streets, using some not so heroic skills Arva had taught her....

•Just stuff about Winnie•

Winnie is weird.

She rarely takes anything seriously and will usually use humor as a way to keep herself sane as she puts it.

She's definitely not a saint but there are some big no nos for her when it comes to morals. No harming innocents, children, or animals.

Self righteous rich tits can suck it tho

"Think you can just spit on me? Huh!? I'll bite your fucking ankles!"

Winnie is an insomniac with permanent raccoon eyes. Shh...don't say anything she gets self conscious!

She has really low self esteem when it comes to her appearance.

Growing up all the other children in her village used to call her ugly a lot. Pretty much all of them aside from a gnome child named Demi.

Winnie liked Demi. Demi used to call her tall.

Winnie isn't particularly romantically experienced. Mostly due to her low self esteem and urge to faint or run away screaming when around someone she finds attractive.

Astarion is her first everything really.

Moving on from that Winnie has a bit of an obsession with cheese. It's like her favorite thing ever.

If you have any she will steal it.

Her handwriting is awful.

She has a habit of pretending to be dumber than she actually is to throw people off.

She identifies herself as being interested in men exclusively, but if I'm honest she does have a bicurious streak.

Mostly because Karlach once asked her what she would do if Astarion was a girl.

Karlach is like her best friend, but don't tell Star he'll get jealous. Shhh...

Has a little plant in a small pot that she affectionately calls Vern.

Currently writing erotic Bloodweave fanfiction titled 'Blood Mage' as a side job to afford Astarion's costly wardrobe. Shhh.... don't tell Gale.

Likes to draw exaggerated doodles in her journal a lot. Usually illustrating important events in her life.

She often dwells on something she remembered one of the older druids saying before the raid. The elder druid described Winnie as "a weed amongst the flowers."

Winnie used to flip the old lady off behind her back all the time.

Will probably be updated and expanded on. Feel free to ask questions. I might make a separate one of these for my Durge .

IMPORTANT: While I am open to doing a little roleplay here and there I'm only doing it with users above the age of 18. Anyone without their age on their blog will be blocked or ignored. Also I'm not comfortable roleplaying the canon characters at this time so don't ask please.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #bg3 rp #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 roleplay #my tav #baldur's gate 3 roleplay

[thedeal-if]

If it’s not too spoilery can I ask how the Ro’s would act if they were jealous? Like maybe the think the mc likes someone else. (I really liked your writing btw)

Ah thanks seriously😭 And dw I don't think it's spoilery at all!

Lol hive mind. Very convenient because as I was writing the original drabbles I really didn't like how they were coming out 😭 Ty for providing an actual scenario anon

The two of you are finally allowed a moment of tranquillity, just a moment is all you ask of lately, and it has finally been granted. You deserve it, you all do. A walk in the park is just what you need, and one of your companions is kind enough to grace you with their beloved presence.

When the unknown person approaches you it is definitely a surprise. There’s something hidden behind their back. They catch your eye, shoot a wide smile your way and reveal to you what’s in their hands: a delicate bouquet, pale pink tulips, white sweet peas and roses, and lavender posies. It reminds you of the softness of spring.

“These are for you,” the person says cheerfully. They fiddle with their hands, a crimson blush overcoming their complexion “I just— I thought you were gorgeous and I wanted you to have them.”

Dante doesn't usually get jealous. He's very free-spirited and feels like being jealous would be a little like trapping himself in a hole he can't escape. Oh, but if Dante does feel jealousy then it's a wildfire fire. He's always lived his emotions quite intensely. From his pov, everything is like a rollercoaster. Everything is too much, too quickly, and it's too awful. From MC's pov, they would notice Dante is sulky and a little quicker to snap. Anger is his main defence mechanism. Dante would also get very overprotective, directing this rage at whoever he thought MC liked. Lol I can't help but see Nathan being a dick about it but I'll hold back from adding him to the drabble.

Your eyes reflect your amusement, and maybe that’s the main reason Dante scoffs as loudly as he does. He stands next to you, petrified like he’s made of ice. But he definitely isn’t. Dante is close enough for you to feel the way his body temperature rises drastically.

“Scu—” Dante bites his tongue and swallows the Italian word before it spills. When he switches back to English, his words carry a certain force “Fucking pardon?”

The person who handed you the bouquet, visibly flustered, lifts both hands as if to placate Dante’s anger. It doesn’t work, it never does. If he’s a fire, any attempt to mollify him is a fan.

“Calm down. It was just a compliment, man,” the person laughs nervously “I didn’t know.”

“Dante,” you say before he can yell at them. The way he whips his head in your direction reminds you a little of a puppy expecting to be scolded.

You give Dante a look that says more than words ever could. It is also loud enough for him to hear beyond the haze of rage, and Dante sighs. Under his breath, he counts to ten in Italian—he only reaches number six before giving up and waving a hand in the stranger’s direction.

“Screw off, human,” Dante scoffs at them.

He eyes the bouquet like it has personally offended him—knowing him, it has. Dante holds his hands out, you hand it to him almost on autopilot. The Aeshma takes a step back, and you watch as he sets the flowers ablaze with the palms of his hands. That’s the moment the stranger decides to run.

---

With the way Lilith has lived and the relationships they've had, jealousy was something they haven’t really felt. Ever. It's a little complicated and I think it's more fun if I don't explain and you all see for yourselves ^^. If she thought MC liked someone else Lilith would definitely feel upset though. But not too openly, more like a silent resignation. Lilith is very self-conscious she tends to overthink. So she'd definitely overthink the entire situation, though she'd never openly complain or vent to anyone. Actually, she'd be quite supportive of MC making a move on the third person.

There’s a faint snorting sound next to you, Lilith startles you with her sudden huff, a surprising sound that is maybe a little too mean, especially given the fact that this is Lilith laughing, and she’s probably the kindest—not person—creature you know. Her abrupt snort quickly dissolves into an amused chuckle, and it confuses even the stranger.

Lilith smiles sweetly at them. It almost seems innocent, the way her eyes crinkle. But you know her.

“No flowers for me?” Lilith muses with a fake pout. Your eyes flutter towards her big red rose earrings. Being put in the spot like that would embarrass anyone, and the stranger is no exception.

They flush but are unable to say anything before Lilith speaks again

“I’m kidding, of course. [Name] really is lovely, right?” she asks in a whisper, cocking her head towards you. As if you can’t hear her “The flowers are so pretty too! That’s so sweet. Right, love?”

One of your eyebrows rises at her antics, “Yeah, they are,” you admit.

Lilith sends a brief smirk your way. The stranger nods their thanks, red-faced.

“I’d have chosen a... hotter pink, though,” she says, her voice low, it has a faint reverberation that ties around her cadence like ribbons. Only you can hear Lilith's words.

You’d be blind not to see that, despite her nonchalance, Lilith’s very heated tone and her eyes full of affection are saved only for you to hear and see.

---

I gave Josh the sin of envy for a reason lol. When it comes to people, he never does things halfway, if he really likes someone he likes them all the way (it's kinda the same with his friendships). Josh is kinda low-key the same with all his relationships: when he sees the person he likes with someone else he starts to seriously question his own self-worth. Much like Lilith he would never complain or vent. Josh is a person who prefers to deal with his own problems and insecurities himself, even if he doesn't really know how to cope with them healthily sometimes. He'd also be quite supportive while he's dying inside.

Josh gazes over the flowers with clear interest, a look that seems entirely out of place when you see just how stiff his posture is, and how tightly he’s gritting his teeth. You’re pretty familiar with his ticks and quirks after being friends for so many years, but this new reaction of Josh’s is new, strange and, frankly, quite thrilling. You didn’t think he’d be the type to be jealous.

“Thank you,” you tell the stranger politely. Josh echoes your words absentmindedly, like an afterthought. Like a child whose mother just ordered food at a restaurant.

He snaps back out of it quickly and smiles at the stranger.

“They are very pretty,” Josh nods “The flowers, I mean.”

The stranger tilts their head his way, but it’s you to whom they give a knowing look. It’s only once they’re gone that Josh speaks again.

“I didn’t know you liked flowers!” he says all too tightly. Focusing on the nice things and dealing with the big elephant in the room—his very obvious discomfort—is just such a Josh thing to do.

“It’s nice, y’know. Getting flowers.”

“Yeah,” Josh mumbles. He swallows and offers a tentative smile—too coy to be accidental, “I promise that the ones I’ll get you won’t look like you’re about to do a bouquet toss.”

Josh and future tenses—you know it’s a promise and not an empty hypothesis.

---

Villanelle has one philosophy and one philosophy alone: if she ignores a problem it doesn't exist anymore. Sure she likes MC but it doesn't mean she has to like them forever (is what Villanelle tells herself when she starts to feel jealous). Villanelle believes that bad feelings can be willed away if she thinks positively and manifests an optimistic outcome. Would probably do a 1000 tarot readings to sort out her thoughts. (It doesn't really work most of the time, she still overthinks like crazy).

Villanelle releases a loud gasp before you can react, she leans forward to get a better look. You know the witch has a very intense passion towards flowers—plants in general, Villanelle gets fiercely defensive when you mix the two up—, so it’s not that strange for her to be more excited than you.

“Thanks,” you tell the stranger. Villanelle gushes over the pretty shade of lavender.

The stranger appears amused by the witch’s shameless elation. They promptly ignore her in favour of offering you a suggestive smile.

“No need, it’s my pleasure.”

The bundle of energy next to you appears to have found a way to quiet her restlessness. Villanelle has frozen a little, frowning at one of the roses. Her thoughts seem to have a mind of their own, and you fear that Villanelle is either having a vision or glaring at a nasty bug. You don’t know which one you hope for.

“Villie?”

“Oh?” she blinks and smiles at you “I’m peachy, don’t worry.”

She must be as peachy as she claims. Villanelle turns around and busies herself while you say your goodbyes to the stranger, thanking them again for the flowers. By the time Villanelle returns to your side, she’s holding two common daisies in each of her hands.

When your eyes land on her you can tell she’s blushing.

“I…”

Villanelle clears her throat, tries again.

“I give you flowers so often it feels weird not to collaborate on this one,” she explains earnestly. A frown interrupts her honest expression “Is that strange?”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

Villanelle grins widely, “Ah, good!”

One of the daisies joins the bouquet. The other, (you have to lean down for her to place/) she places behind your ear.

---

It'd be hard to notice Victor is upset because his disposition seems serious and neutral all the time lol. Victor would definitely be the kind of person to be jealous and feel mad at everything when he's jealous. He wouldn't logically understand why he's feeling that way, he wouldn't be able to find a rational explanation and that would be so frustrating to him. It'd drive him mad. But Victor wants and he wants very badly despite himself. Rather than lashing out, though, he'd be much more prone to brooding. Probably would glare a lot at the person he thought MC liked.

The stranger and you establish what is originally meant—at least on your part—to be a polite conversation. You thank them for the flowers, compliment the bouquet’s colors. One thing leads to another and now the stranger is telling you about themselves, flirting skittishly and telling you about themselves. In all honesty, you have no clue as to why they might feel so encouraged. You know you wouldn’t be the same way if Victor glared at you the same way he’s glaring at them.

An irritated Victor—genuinely irritated—is a sight you know like the back of your hand. Hands that hold the bouquet he briefly glares at, too. Victor is angsty.

“Let’s go, Warner,” he says suddenly. The way he ignores the stranger’s presence is far from accidental.

Said stranger throws their hands up in mock indignation, “Dude, I was talking to them.”

The glare Victor sends them is renewed, more than angry. It seems to be more deathly than a knife to the throat.

“You look like you're trying to explode their head with your mind,” you comment teasingly.

His murderous eyes settle on you, and they soften.

---

Aliyah is always so hard to answer asks for, her mind and life are an entire mess and a half. I think she'd be pretty divided in terms of jealousy? It really depends on her mood and day. Aliyah either can't be bothered to care and convinces herself that she's all that and that she shouldn't waste her time with MC, or she drowns in very self-deprecating thoughts. Most likely, Aliyah wouldn't even dare complain. Though jealousy is annoying, it'd be much scarier if someone realized she felt that way in the first place.

Aliyah’s hatred towards humans originally seemed like a one-time thing. Your kind is the Top 1 in her long ‘Aliyah’s comprehensive list of distasteful things she doesn’t ever want to see or hear from again.’ Though you’re clearly kidding, you wouldn’t be surprised if such a list exists. If it does, it probably has been expanded to include flowers and bouquets.

The flowers in your hand, specifically, appear to be the scum of the Earth—according to Aliyah’s very biased and opinionated mind, at least. She doesn’t say so outright. But the very disgusted grimace on her face can’t mean anything else.

Aliyah shudders, and you think she’s probably remembering the compliment the stranger gave you, “Seriously?”

“Huh?”

“You thought the hu—” Aliyah stops herself, grits her teeth, she seems to drown in some newfound irritation “You thought this idiot here was gorgeous and decided, what? To buy some shitty gas station flowers to prove it?” a loud snort follows, “Don’t make me laugh. That’s just so... pathetic.”

Very flustered, the stranger flounders with their answer.

“Excuse me?”

Aliyah opens her mouth to answer, but she seems to decide not to. With a groan, she crosses her arms defensively, turns towards you with a neutral expression and says, “I’m out of here.”

The Genie walks away, and you pretend not to notice that she waits for you to catch up.

---

Nathan is a gremlin who wants attention 100% of time time. He might feel a little bad here and there if he thinks MC likes someone else but, rather than dwell on those thoughts and emotions, Nathan finds himself doing all he can to get MC's attention. In his mind, he hasn't been rejected and it'd be stupid to assume they can't just change their mind. In the privacy of his mind, Nathan would be surprisingly vulnerable about the entire situation. But if Nathan is known for something, that is barreling head first into situations with little to no thoughts involved. He's definitely not backing down until MC is with someone else, he starts liking someone else, or MC flat-out rejects his advances.

For a—not a person—creature as dramatic as Nathan, he doesn’t give much of a reaction. The angel looks at you, at the flowers, at the stranger, at you again, and then at your hands. You can tell he’s thinking, but you’re not sure you want to know what it is about. Nathan’s ideas... You shudder, remembering the long list of misfortunes that always follow the words ‘Guys, I have an amazing plan!’

But your fate is sealed when Nathan smirks. You lost.

“Hey, mate, where did you get these?” he gets his answer, waves at you and the stranger with a loud “Cheers! Be right back,” and leaves before you can say something.

By the time he returns, you’ve already said goodbye to the stranger. Nathan skips over to you like a little kid, excited to show you something. When you do a double take you notice two things: firstly, Nathan is carrying himself like he’s the embodiment of smugness, like the cat who caught the canary.

Secondly, Nathan is holding a beautiful bouquet of roses colored in an intense indigo—his favourite color—and carnations. He skids to a halt in front of you, half-lidded eyes anchoring on your frame.

“Oh, our new friend left already? Pity,” he sighs. Nathan moves on all too quickly for the sentiment to be sincere “Anyway. These are for you! I thought you were beautiful and I wanted you to have them.”

You snort, “Really?”

“You like my flowers, don’t you?” Nathan smirks, presenting the bouquet to you “You like them much more than theirs. I can tell~”

Your eyes roll fondly. You don’t deny it, though. It’s no use.

---

Eden is very logical and practical but complicated feelings often go way over his head. He wouldn't get jealous, not because he doesn't get jealous, but because he's extremely oblivious about these things. If Eden thought for a second that MC liked someone else he'd probably avoid the feeling (he really hates drama), which might make him come off as cold, or like he's giving MC the cold shoulder. Overall he's the most upset about MC not making any extra time for them, which he quietly sulks about.

Eden is often quiet and only speaks up when he has something absolutely important to say. You don’t think it’s out of character for him to listen silently to you and the stranger.

They are very shameless and flirty at first but revert back to measured politeness once they notice you don’t seem all that interested in them. They say goodbye after a short chat, leaving you behind with the bouquet and an Eden with a small pout and a furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?” you ask lightly, bumping your shoulder against theirs.

“Hm? Oh. Nothing. It’s dumb,” Eden waves a tired and dismissing hand “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eden…”

He sighs in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he reaches out boldly, takes the flowers from your hands and resumes the walk “Seeing you and them like that. It was really annoying.”

After a brief pause, amused, you ask, “Are you jealous?”

“What? Of course not.”

Eden’s grimace indicates his clear distaste for the topic. It drops too quickly, and he changes the topic before you can question him again.

#the deal #the deal if #i practically murdered both my wrists to get this done #This really felt like a crash course on jealousy lol ty anon #the deal act 1 #inferno #if wip #ask #dante #lilith #josh #villanelle #victor #aliyah #nathan #eden #ros #scenario

[strangerstilinski]

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter one

summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough — now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle this. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 17,160

chapter notes; lydia takes an ill-advised field trip from the hospital. a newly alpha-ed up derek begins recruiting for his pack. stiles and amber try to get used to their recent upgrade to ‘more-than-friends’.

masterlist

c h a p t e r   o n e

omega

"Do we really need to do this right now?" Amber asked impatiently, "I want to go-"

Stiles gave her a sharp look.

"If you'd rather I drop you off at your house so your brother can patch you up.." Stiles began slowly, "Y'know, then you can tell him all about rescuing Derek from werewolf hunters, and how an Alpha got you with one of his claws just a few hours before he was violently murdered.. Which you were also witness to," He was still looking up at her from his place on the floor between her knees, "And while you're explaining all that, Scott and I can go to the hospital to check on Lydia without you-"

"Okay, okay." She settled quickly, "Just, hurry up. Please."

She watched his determined focus return to the task at hand as he wrapped a band-aid tightly around the deep cut on her freshly cleaned middle finger.

"How did you even get this one?" He questioned as he finished applying the covering.

"Trying to get the latch undone on one of Derek's ankle cuffs," She explained, "My hand slipped and it just kind of-"

Stiles looked up at her with a frown, "You've had your tetanus shot, right?"

She snorted in amusement at his concern, "Yes, Stiles. I'm up to date on all my shots." She told him with a shake of her head, "Now, are we done? Can we go?"

As she pulled her hand out of his grip and moved to stand, she looked down at her outfit with a small frown and pinched the fabric of Stiles' borrowed sweatpants between her fingers.

To avoid being subjected to a full interrogation in regards to her dirty, bruised, and bloody condition following the events of the evening, when Jackson had dropped them off at her house, she'd slipped inside only to grab her car keys from the hook just inside the front door and Stiles and Amber had driven her vehicle back to the blessedly empty Stilinski house.

They'd both gotten cleaned up and Stiles had given her a pair of sweats and a tshirt to wear until they could sneak back into her house to get some of her own clothes. Only now, with the intention of going out into public, she found herself feeling self-conscious in the borrowed items.

"I look kind of ridiculous." She muttered quietly as she looked down at her baggy outfit.

Stiles had already stood and begun making his way to the bedroom door, but turned back at her with an exasperated shake of his head, "Hey, you were more than welcome to put your dress back on after your shower." Stiles reminded her.

She turned her head to look over at the dirt and blood covered heap of fabric in the corner of the room and frowned.

"Would you like to go back to your house?" He asked with a sigh after a moment.

"No," She said quickly, "Sorry. I'll stop complaining."

Stiles took a step back into the room and reached up to slide his hands underneath the hem of her borrowed tshirt. He rested them lightly over her bare hips, his fingers pressing into her skin as he dragged her a step closer.

"For the record, I don't think you look ridiculous." He said softly.

"No?" She licked her lips and took an anxious breath at the familiar yet completely unfamiliar warmth of his body so close to hers.

His thumbs rubbed featherlight up and down over her abdomen, and her stomach tightened at the gentleness of the touch. Stiles shook his head in response but didn't verbalize an answer as he looked down at her body. Her own gaze flicked over his face in a slow trail and when her eyes caught the way his lips parted distractedly as he breathed, she was spurred on.

"You-" She licked her lips again and took another nervous breath, "You like it? Me.. In your clothes?"

He nodded quickly and his eyes snapped up to meet hers while he continued to bob his head up and down.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and raised up onto her toes to bring their lips together. His hands tightened over her hips as he returned the kiss and she allowed him to press slow, deep kisses against her mouth for a long minute before she pulled away. She leaned forward to press their cheeks together as she lifted her mouth to rest over the shell of his ear.

"Just wait 'til you see me out of them." She whispered softly, hoping that the words came out sounding more confident than she felt. She took a step back just as Stiles let out a quiet noise of distress and she grinned triumphantly, "Alright. We better get going! Still have to pick up Scott and he's probably been waiting a while already."

"No-" He whined quietly, stumbling after her in a daze and grabbing ahold of her hand as she exited the room and started down the hallway, "Why would you do that to me? That wasn't nice-"

She rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on his hand as they made their way down the stairs toward the front door.

"If I wasn't being nice, I would've pointed out that your wardrobe is severely lacking in underwear in my size-" She told him innocently, "Also, bras."

"Believe me, I noticed the absence of a bra on your body." He muttered quietly as he grabbed her car keys from the bowl by the door, "The underwear, though.. I definitely could've done without that reminder, because now, quite frankly, there's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to think about anything else. So, thanks for that. Scott can smell arousal, y'know."

That gave her pause. She turned to face him as they stepped outside and gave him a disbelieving look.

"I'm sorry-? He can do what?" She questioned.

Stiles grinned, looking pleasantly surprised at her obliviousness as they walked to the tiny yellow car. He dropped her keys into her hand and watched her settle behind the wheel, his arm propped up on the driver's side door.

"Oh? Did you not know that?" He asked in poorly disguised glee.

Her grip on her car keys tightened as she looked up at him, trying to determine whether or not he was telling the truth, "You're seriously telling me he can- That he can smell it when I-"

Her mind raced as she thought about all of the times in the last month and a half she'd been sandwiched between her two best friends with her thoughts solely focused on Stiles. All of the moments she'd been glued to Scott's side while thinking about Stiles' hands, and kissing him, and touching him, and him touching her-

She squeaked in distress, "Has he been able to do this the whole time?"

Stiles shrugged, "I think he only really picked up on it around the last full moon," His eyes flicked over her excitedly, "Why? You been aroused a lot?"

"I mean.. Yeah." She told him plainly, eyes wide.

His arm slipped from the doorframe and he stumbled in surprise at her blatant honesty. He blinked at her for a moment with a slack jaw before shaking his head and moving to close the door.

He looked down into the car with a grimace of understanding, "Right, well, can't keep him waiting."

Amber pouted, still feeling nauseatingly embarrassed as she leaned forward to turn the key in the ignition and start her car with a pitiful sigh.

It was totally fine. Scott was her best friend. It was totally not weird that he could sense it whenever she was turned on. Not weird at all.

Definitely not.

Except it really, really was.

Amber stayed back to talk to Lydia's doctor while Scott and Stiles headed in the direction of her hospital room. Her stomach was in knots during the duration of the conversation, but she felt overall relief as she listened to the doctor explain that Lydia was going to be okay.

The woman assured her that Lydia's body had stabilized over the last several hours and that now it was simply a waiting game. The redhead would wake up whenever her body felt well enough.

With a shaky sigh as her stress alleviated slightly, Amber made her way over to the closed door of Lydia's hospital room. She pushed it open and Scott and Stiles both flinched from where they were standing beside Lydia's bed, turning to face the door in alarm.

"Oh, it's just you," Stiles breathed out in relief, motioning for her to come into the room faster, "Hurry up and close the door-"

She frowned but did as she was told, both boys wincing again as the door creaked shut loudly and prompting her to frown in apology before walking over to stand in between them.

"Why did I need to close the door?" She asked quietly.

"Because we need to check the bite-" Scott explained, "See how it's healing."

He reached out, beginning to pull the blankets down, but as his fingers brushed against the fabric of Lydia's hospital gown, Amber smacked his hand away and took a protective step closer to the unconscious girl in the bed. The boys both frowned at her in confusion and she glared between them darkly.

"If anyone is about to touch the unconscious girl without her permission and violate her nearly naked body, it is not going to be one of you." She berated quietly, smacking Scott's hand away again from where it was still resting on the bedside, "Thank you." She huffed.

She took a steadying breath and reached her own hand out, trembling fingers pulling the gown to the side just enough to reveal the large bandage covering the skin on Lydia's hip. She gently peeled back the covering to reveal the bloody wound beneath and looked at Scott worriedly.

"What does this mean?" She whispered anxiously.

"Is it completely healed?" Stiles questioned, his gaze still locked on the far wall after having averted his eyes when Amber lifted the fabric of Lydia's hospital gown.

"No." Scott told him, "Not at all."

Stiles finally turned his attention back to the girl in the hospital bed and he dropped a hand over Amber's shoulder as he leaned closer to peer down at the bloody bite in the flesh of Lydia's hip.

"I- I don't get it," Amber said quietly, her thumb dropping down to trace softly over the unmarred skin beside the wound, "The doctor said she'd be fine."

"But.. The bite's not healing like it did with me." Scott stated.

"Right.." She prompted, "So, what does that mean?"

"It means.. She's not a werewolf."

She looked back up at Scott nervously and Stiles' grip on her shoulder tightened comfortingly.

"Then what the hell is she?" Stiles asked in a whisper.

"Maybe.. Maybe werewolf or death aren't the only two options after being bitten, y'know?" Amber suggested quietly, "I mean, maybe some people are like.. Immune-?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Scott shrugged, still frowning in confusion, "I-I'm gonna go meet Allison before it gets too late." He told them before moving toward the door.

"You don't need a ride?" Stiles asked.

"I'm good." Scott assured, cracking the door open just enough to slip through before closing it behind himself.

Amber gently laid the bandage back down over the bite, re-securing it with delicate fingers before covering Lydia back up again and tucking the blanket in around her. She looked up at the redhead's beautiful sleeping face and swallowed guiltily.

"This-" She let out a shaky breath in realization, "Is all my fault."

"Hey, no, what?" Stiles protested softly, he spun her around to face him and frowned at her, "This isn't your fault," He told her firmly, "Why would you say that?"

Her lip quivered and she felt her eyes prickle with heat as they welled with tears, "Because it is," She said, "I told her to go find Jackson and I let her go alone. I- I should've gone with her and-" A small sob cut her off when she took her next breath, "And Scott had already told me he thought he'd seen Peter." She disclosed, eyes filling with more tears when she saw the look of surprise on Stiles' face, "He told me he saw Peter and I didn't believe him. I told him he was being paranoid and- And then I told Lydia to go off and look for Jackson and I-"

Another choked sob cut off her words and Stiles wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in as the first of her tears fell. He directed her to burrow her face into the curve of his neck and she went easily, reaching up to fist her hands into his shirt as she did so.

"None of this is your fault," He told her, mouth pressed into her still slightly shower-damp hair as he spoke softly into her ear, "You're wrong, okay? It's not your fault."

His arms tightened around her shoulders and the firmness of his grip settled just a little bit of the tightness in her chest.

Mrs. Martin had approved Amber as an overnight guest for her daughter and Amber spent the next forty-some hours at the hospital. Whenever Lydia's mother was away, Amber was glued to Lydia's bedside, alternating between holding her friend's hand while napping with her head pillowed on the edge of the mattress, and turning the television to the docuseries on the Discovery Channel that she knew her friend secretly loved.

Lydia finally woke on Saturday afternoon, confused and groggy, only a few hours after Amber's brother had visited to drop off a bag of things from their house to last her through the weekend.

By Sunday evening, Amber had taken up residence in an armchair on the far side of the hospital room, reading through a new crime-thriller as she kept her bed-bound friend company. Amber was still lounging in the comfort of Stiles' oversized sweats, grateful for the clean underwear bra that her brother had dropped off for her.

Lydia dozed off and on throughout the afternoon and while Mr. Martin had been hovering somewhat awkwardly at the doorway for several hours, Amber had remained in the room all day at Lydia's insistence. The brunette spent the evening reading through her crime novel and sticking tiny post-it notes inside, using different colored tabs in the pages as new clues and possible leads cropped up in the story.

She was two-thirds of the way through her book when Lydia finally stirred after several hours of fitful rest. The redhead sat up in her hospital bed slowly, immediately garnering the undivided attention of both her father and Amber.

"What?" Lydia snapped in annoyance at their sudden scrutiny.

"D'you need any help getting to the bathroom?" Amber asked gently.

"No." Lydia said quickly, "And I'm going to take a shower, if that's all right with the two of you."

Amber closed her book with a frown and watched Lydia's father take another nervous step toward his daughter as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and went to stand.

"You want help getting into the shower?" He asked.

"Maybe," Lydia started with a withering glare, "-If I was still four and taking bubble baths."

Amber snorted quietly despite herself, holding her hands up in surrender as she walked over to the door to the hallway, "I'll wait out in the hall."

"I'll be outside too," Mr. Martin assured his daughter, "Where it's slightly less sarcastic." He finished quietly as they stepped out of the room and left Lydia to her own devices.

When Amber stepped out into the hallway, she spotted Stiles sleeping sprawled across a row of the uncomfortable waiting chairs, and she found herself smiling softly at the sight of him.

"How long has he been here?" She asked quietly when she spotted Scott's mom in her scrubs at the nursing station just outside of the room.

"Since this afternoon," Ms. McCall revealed, "He said he brought you some lunch. I told him you'd already eaten but he just.. Didn't leave."

Amber's heart warmed and she watched Stiles murmur something quietly under his breath in his sleep, his mouth hanging open cutely where it was pillowed against the back of his arm. She approached with slow steps and squatted down in front of him, reaching out to cup his cheek softly.

"Stiles.." She spoke quietly in an attempt to wake him, rubbing her thumb lightly over the dark mole decorating his left cheek.

"Mm," Stiles hummed quietly, eyes still closed, "'S good."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head in amusement as she watched at the sleeping boy in front of her. His body shifted slightly as he readjusted over the row of chairs and she swept her thumb over his cheek again softly.

"Stiles, c'mon." She spoke gently.

"Feels good," He murmured into the back of his arm as his eyebrows furrowed softly. His leg twitched, kicking out into the chair at the end of the row and he groaned quietly in the back of his throat, "Ngh, Amber.. Like that."

She blinked and her thumb paused its movements as the dots connected in her mind slowly, her stomach fluttering wildly at the realization that Stiles was having an erotic dream. About her.

Before the boy could say anything truly vulgar, she leaned in somewhat nervously, covering his parted lips with her own and sliding her fingers back behind his ear. It only took a moment before his lips began to press back against hers, his head lifting up off of his arm slightly as he leaned up and tried instinctively to chase her mouth.

She sat back, still squatting down in front of him and smiled softly as he finally blinked his eyes open to look at her in befuddlement.

"Hey, sleepyhead." She said quietly, looking between his dream-dazed brown eyes.

"Hey," He responded in a sleepy grumble, "Was having a dream 'bout you."

She grinned, "So I heard."

Her comment seemed to startle him into alertness and he shot up startlingly fast, no longer looking remotely sleepy. She leaned back when his arms flailed in his attempt to sit upright and she laughed at him quietly as she dodged his waving limbs.

"Heard what?" Stiles asked as he settled finally into the chair, trying his best to look casual, "Did- Did I say anything?"

She rose to her knees and looked up at him with a small smile, "No. Nothing really." She fibbed easily.

He seemed to relax at the simple lie and she shook her head at him fondly as he sighed in relief. His gaze dropped down momentarily to the low neckline of her tank top before he took a slow breath, reaching down to grab her hand as he stood from his seat. She frowned in confusion as he began to drag her down the hallway but she went easily, trailing a step behind him and making a small noise of confusion.

"C'mon, I'm gonna get you something from the vending machine. You haven't eaten since before I got here, and that was at one-" He explained over his shoulder.

They stopped in front of the snack dispenser around the corner and her eyes flicked over the options for a moment, her hand still trapped in his. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Stiles dug around in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a few quarters. Once the coins were cupped in his hand, he looked over at her in anticipation.

She turned her head slightly and was caught by surprise under his expectant stare, "What?" She asked slowly.

"D'you know what you want?" He lifted his hand and hovered just over the coin slot, fingers ready to drop the quarters into the small opening.

Her gaze drifted back to look behind the glass once again and she gnawed on her bottom lip indecisively, "Hmm, J." She told him finally, finger tapping against the glass to point to the item with the corresponding letter.

Stiles dropped the quarters into the slot and each one landed with a loud clink inside of the machine.

"You want the Reese's?" He verified before daring to press anything, his finger hovering over the buttons in wait.

She nodded her assent and he pressed his finger over the letter J on the keypad, the arm holding on to the candy spinning backwards slowly but stopping before the item could fall down from the shelf.

Stiles made a small noise of distress and slammed his finger against the button on the keypad again a few times in frustration. When nothing happened, he slapped the glass with an annoyed frown and released her hand with a huff, reaching out to put his arms on either side of the machine and jostling it as he threw his body weight against the glass. He groaned in exertion and continued to shake the machine angrily.

Amber laughed at him quietly as she watched on in amusement, "Stiles, it's no big deal," She reached out to rest a hand over his shoulder blade, "It did this to one of the nurses yesterday. We just need to-"

Before she could finish, the machine tipped toward them precariously. In a quick motion, Stiles reached out to grip her biceps and he crowded her back out of the way with, his chest against hers, just as the vending machine fell forward and hit the ground where they'd been standing a moment before with a loud crash.

"Stiles!" She scolded in a whisper, her eyes wide in surprise. Her pulled gaze from the fallen machine behind him to his face, his chest still pressed flush to hers, "Why did you-"

"I- Sorry! I just-" He stammered, "It- It wouldn't give you your candy."

"Well, that was very sweet of you.. But now there definitely won't be any candy." She reached up to pat his cheek consolingly.

"Sure there will," He told her, stepping back and attempting to stick his fingertips beneath the machine as he squatted down beside it, "Help me get it back up."

"Stiles, that thing is at least five-hundred pounds," She said incredulously, "There's no way-"

A piercing scream rang out through the hospital unit and drowned out her voice. Her head snapped up, looking down the hallway and stomach turning with a cold sense of dread as she realized she recognized the scream.

"Lydia!" She yelled, her legs already carrying her down the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" She heard Ms. McCall ask loudly as Amber ran past her.

She ran around the corner and pushed through Lydia's empty hospital room until she skidded to a stop in the middle of the bathroom. She looked at the small, painfully deserted room as Lydia's dad and Ms. McCall came to crowd in the doorway behind her.

Amber felt sick as Ms. McCall reached around her to turn the running water off in the empty shower. Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Her discarded hospital gown was still lying on the bench beside the shower and the window along the wall had been pushed wide open to let in a cool breeze from outside.

"Where's Lydia?" Amber asked the room at large, heart pounding violently in her chest.

The adults both seemed to be a mix of confused and alarmed, looking between one another slowly, but neither knew how to answer the question.

Lydia was gone.

Amber took a shaky breath and spun around frantically, bumping into Stiles where he had been standing directly behind her as she did so. He was quick to wrap his arms around her shoulders pull her into a hug, whispering into her ear so that no one around them would overhear his words.

"It's gonna be okay. We'll call Scott and he can track her before she gets too far, alright?" He said softly. Amber nodded against the side of his face, "Okay." He repeated again, brushing his lips across her cheekbone in an barely there kiss before releasing her.

After a few minutes of hushed conversation and phone calls to the appropriate authorities, the adults in the room slowly trailed out into the hallway to meet the police and try to figure out a plan of action.

As soon as the bathroom was empty, Stiles rushed to grab a clean garbage bag from underneath the sink and stuffed Lydia's dirty hospital gown inside.

"What-" Amber started quietly.

"Scott can use it to get her scent." He explained, rolling up the trash bag and stuffing it into the waistband of his jeans beneath the back of his sweatshirt.

Amber pulled her phone out of the pocket of the sweats she was wearing to send Scott a frantic text message as she allowed Stiles to guide her slowly out into the hallway. She could already hear Sheriff Stilinski's voice as he spoke with Ms. McCall and Mr. Martin, another uniformed deputy trailing only a step behind the group.

Stiles urged Amber to walk closer so that they could listen in on what was being said.

"Alright," Sheriff Stilinski said, turning to face the deputy, "Let's get an APB out on a sixteen year old redhead. Any other descriptors?" He asked, turning toward Lydia's dad.

Amber pushed forward into the throng of adults aggressively, "She's five-foot three, has green eyes, wears a size seven to a seven and a half shoe — depending on the type, she's fair skinned, and her hair actually isn't red, it's strawberry blonde-" She listed off quickly, lifting a finger to count as she listed off each descriptor.

"Is that so?" The Sheriff asked her, looking between her and where Stiles was standing behind her slowly, the man's eyes flicking between them with a slightly aggravated look. He reached around Amber's shoulder to grab a hold of his son with a hand at the back of the boy's neck, leading him a couple of steps away as Amber trailed close behind. "Why is it that you somehow manage to be present for everything that goes wrong in this town, huh? What the hell are you still doing here?" The Sheriff asked his son in a hushed whisper.

Stiles looked at him with wide eyes, flicking his gaze to Amber over his dad's shoulder as she came to stand beside them, "Um. I was providing moral support?" He said quietly, sounding unsure.

Amber stepped up behind Stiles and placed her hand at the small of his back, pressing against the garbage bag tucked into his waistband to ensure it wouldn't slip during the conversation.

"How about you provide your ass back home, where you should be." The Sheriff suggested quietly, attention flicking over to Amber for a brief second, "And take Amber home while you're at it."

"I- I can do that too." Stiles agreed quickly.

"Yeah." The Sheriff said slowly, releasing his son and keeping his eyes on them determinedly.

Amber readjusted Stiles' hoodie over his back and led him back down the hallway where they could grab her duffle bag from Lydia's hospital room. When she got to the bag, she unzipped it quickly, stuffing her abandoned book and sticky notes into the bottom before reaching into the back of Stiles' jeans to grab the garbage bag. He made a small noise of surprise but didn't fight her as she pulled out the gown-filled plastic bag and stuffed it into her duffel.

As she zipped the bag closed, her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to skim over the new message from Scott.

"Scott's here," She relayed quickly as they headed down the hallway toward the elevators, "He heard her scream. Said he was already on his way here when I texted."

Stiles let out a breath and reached up to grab a hold of her shoulder as the elevator brought them back down to the main floor. Her stomach was turning with anxious worry and when the elevator doors slid open, Stiles' hand slipped from her shoulder when she didn't immediately move to step out with him.

He paused just one step across the threshold of the elevator and did a slow spin, turning to face her when he realized she was no longer beside him.

"Hey, what-"

"Stiles. I'm freaking out." She admitted quietly.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the elevator to stand in front of him. He frowned as his eyes scanned the panic on her face, reaching up to brush her hair back out of her face gently.

"Look, d'you trust Scott?" He prompted.

"I mean.. I love him. But-" She started honestly.

Stiles rolled his eyes lightly, "Do you trust him?" He repeated firmly.

"Yeah." She said finally in a small voice.

"Alright. Then trust that he'll be able to find her, 'kay?" He reassured gently.

She nodded and took a determined breath, "Okay."

Without another word, Stiles gripped her hand in his and rushed out of the building in the direction of where he'd parked his Jeep that afternoon. Scott was already sitting in the passenger seat, so Amber crawled in from the driver's side and settled beside him as Stiles climbed in after her.

She unzipped her duffel bag and pulled out Lydia's hospital gown, handing it over to Scott quickly as she tossed her bag uncaringly into the backseat.

Scott examined the fabric in his hand, flipping it over slowly between his fingers, "This is the one she was just wearing?" He verified.

"Obviously." She confirmed quietly, looking at her friend with wide eyes as she waited for him to do something with the bundle of cloth.

Scott looked up at her with a small frown, lifting a hand to squeeze her shoulder, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to her," He promised, "Not again."

She swallowed and nodded, taking a shaky breath.

"Just shove the thing in your face and let's find her." Stiles said impatiently, going to start the car, "Ho- Wow-!" He exclaimed when the headlights clicked on as the engine turned over, the glow illuminating Allison standing directly in front of the car.

"Jesus." Amber whispered in surprise, her own heart beating quick in her chest as Allison rushed over to the passenger side of the Jeep.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked out the open window, "Someone's going to see us-" He worried, knowing that he and Allison were very much no longer allowed to be seen together, given her family's profession of choice.

"I don't care." Allison told him, "She is my best friend and we need to find her before they do-"

"I'm sorry-" Amber cut in quickly, "They who?"

"I can find her before the cops can." Scott said to Allison, ignoring his best friends interruption.

"How about before my father does?" Allison questioned.

"What?!" Amber squeaked nervously.

"He knows?" Stiles asked from behind her.

"Yeah," Allison confirmed, "I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

Scott turned his head to look between Stiles and Amber, "A search party-" He supplied nervously.

"It's more like a hunting party." Allison corrected.

Scott turned back to the girl outside of the vehicle and his hand fumbled on the door handle, "Get in."

Amber frowned as Allison climbed into the car past Scott and tumbled into the mess in the backseat. Amber took a slow breath, not thrilled about having Allison sitting directly behind her unsuspecting back, but fighting the nervous feeling of distrust in her gut for the sake of Lydia's safety.

She crossed her arms over her stomach and pinched the corner of Stiles' outer-layered sweatshirt tightly between her fingers to settle her anxiety as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"Alright," Stiles started as he sped down the main road in town and headed west at Scott's command, "But if she's turning, would they actually kill her?"

"I don't know," Allison said, leaning forward in her seat and putting her face over Amber's shoulder beside Scott, "They won't tell me anything."

Amber turned in her seat to squint at Allison in the dark car skeptically.

"Okay.." Allison backtracked when she caught the other girl's gaze, "All they say is, 'We'll talk after Kate's funeral. When the others get here.'"

"What others?" Amber asked quickly.

"I don't know. They won't tell me that either." Allison replied.

"Okay, your family's got some serious communication issues to work on." Stiles observed.

Amber turned in her seat to look over at where Scott had his head stuck out the window to search for Lydia's scent, "Scott! Are we going the right way?" She asked loudly.

His head tilted as he took a breath into his nose through the breeze outside of the moving vehicle, "Take the next right!" He called back.

They were already coming up on the turn as he spoke and Stiles reached out automatically to brace his arm over Amber's chest as they veered sharply onto a road that would lead them out toward the preserve.

Scott directed them to take several turns over the next ten minutes as they headed down the winding roads out into the more wooded area of town. When he finally directed them to take a left onto a familiar long gravel driveway, Amber frowned in confusion.

"How the hell would Lydia have gotten all the way out here so quickly?" She asked as Scott pulled his head back into the vehicle.

Scott shrugged, "The roads out here aren't as direct. If she ran through the woods it wouldn't have taken her long."

Stiles parked the Jeep around the final turn of the drive and they all slowly climbed out of the car before making their way to the edge of the treeline surrounding what was left of the large burned house.

After no more than a minute, Amber huffed quietly as she shivered, her exhale releasing a foggy cloud into the air. She reached up in an attempt to rub some warmth into her bare arms as they walked and Stiles seemed to catch sight of her movement, quickly beginning to strip off one of the two zip-up hoodies he had layered over his tshirt.

"Here, sorry," He apologized quickly, draping one of the sweatshirts around her shoulders as he readjusted the other over his torso, "I should've given you this before-"

"Thank you." She told him softly as she stuck her arms through the sleeves.

Once she had the sweatshirt pulled on over her tank top, she pinched his chin between her thumb and forefinger and leaned in to press a small appreciative kiss to his lips.

"Hold- Wh- When did this-" Scott looked between his best friends with wide eyes, "When did you guys-?"

Amber leaned back and frowned, "I- Friday.. At formal-"

"There's no way I didn't mention that." Stiles told Scott.

Scott shook his head, "You definitely did not mention that." He disagreed, looking between them again, "I mean, it's great! I'm happy for you guys-"

"Scott this is.. Really sweet but can we please focus on looking for Lydia?" Amber interrupted, playing with the sleeves hanging down over the palms of her hands.

Allison stepped up beside her and laughed awkwardly, "Thank god. I didn't want to interrupt but-"

"Okay, alright." Scott agreed, "C'mon."

They began to move through the trees again and Amber frowned in thought as her gaze trailed over to the Hale house beside them. Stiles followed her eyeline and seemed to catch on to her confused train of thought.

"Lydia came here?" He asked, looking over his shoulder toward Scott, "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Scott shrugged, looking around slowly, "This is where the scent leads."

"Alright," Stiles said, "But has Lydia ever been here?" He asked, both he and Scott turning to Amber in anticipation of her response.

She shook her head, "No, I never brought her here." She let her own gaze drift over to Allison skeptically and the other girl's eyes widened.

"She didn't come here with me either," Allison defended, "Maybe she came here on instinct.. Like she was looking for Derek."

"You mean looking for an Alpha." Scott clarified.

"I- Wolves need a pack, right?" Allison asked.

"Not all of them." Scott said after a moment of hesitation.

"But would she have been drawn to an Alpha?" Allison questioned, "Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?"

"Yeah, we're-" Scott paused, "We're stronger in packs."

Allison nodded, "Like strength in numbers."

Scott shook his head, looking between Allison and Amber for a moment before he spoke, "No. Like- Like literally. Stronger, faster, better in every way-"

Amber huffed in annoyance at the amount of information Scott was willingly imparting on the other girl and she turned to step away from the conversation. She spotted Stiles standing a few yards away, brushing leaves around on the ground where he was squatted down, his head tilted as he examined something.

"What is it?" She asked quietly, settling a hand on his back as she squatted down beside him.

"Woah, it's- Hold on," He said softly before raising his voice to call out to the two still behind them, "Hey! Look at this. Y'see this?" He pinched a dark piece of wire strung out along the ground between his fingers lightly.

Amber reached out to softly run her fingers over it as well as she examined the thick strand of garotte wire that ran just a few inches above the forest floor. She heard footsteps come up behind them as someone followed to see what they were looking at and she turned her head to find Allison squatting down beside her.

"I think it's a tripwire." Stiles explained to the girls quietly, pulling up on the wire with his index finger.

There was a quiet noise in the leaves behind them and Amber turned to find Scott hanging upside down by his ankle.

"Stiles." She whispered, nudging his shoulder with her hand.

"Hm?" He hummed distractedly, still looking down at the wire in his hands.

"Stiles." Scott said from behind them, his louder than Amber's had been.

"Yeah, buddy?" Stiles asked, finally turning around to look behind them, "-Oh."

"Next time you see a tripwire," Scott started, his momentum carrying him back and forth through the air like a pendulum, "Don't trip it."

Amber immediately went to see if she could help Scott, reaching out to stay him and stop him from swinging back and forth quite so much.

"Noted." Stiles told Scott from behind her.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Scott said frantically, reaching his hands out from where they had been dangling over his head to grab Amber's waist and shove her a step away.

"Wha-" She started before he cut her off.

"Someone's coming." Scott whispered aggressively, looking between his three friends, "Hide!" They all looked around the dark treeline curiously for a moment and Scott huffed, "Go!"

Amber was tugged backwards by Stiles' hand wrapped around her shoulder as he urgently pulled her and Allison back down the slope a few hundred feet. They ducked down close to the ground, peering around the cover of a tree as a group of four figures approached Scott slowly.

One of them squatted down to eye-level with the dangling boy and Amber frowned, entirely unsurprised when she heard Allison's dad's voice.

"Scott." He greeted simply.

"Mr. Argent." Scott greeted back weakly.

"How are you doing?" Chris Argent asked slowly.

Scott shrugged awkwardly from his upside down position, still swinging back and forth through the air slightly.

"Good, y'know. Just hangin' out." Scott joked, looking up at his trapped ankle, "This one of yours?" He questioned, "It's uh, good. Nice design. Very constricting-"

"What are you doing out here, Scott?" Allison's dad asked, unamused.

"Looking for my friend." Scott told him seriously.

"Ah, that's right," Mr. Argent sighed, "Lydia's in your group now, isn't she? A part of your clique? Is that the word you'd use? Or is there another way you'd put it?" He prompted slowly, "Part of your pack?"

"Actually, clique sounds about right to me." Scott answered.

Mr. Argent hummed, "I hope so. Because I know she's a friend of Allison's, and one special circumstance, such as yourself.. One I can handle." He said, "Not two."

There was a silent pause and Amber reached out to nudge her pinky against Stiles' nervously. She let out a small breath when he silently hooked his own finger around hers and locked them together.

"Scott, do you know what a hemicorporectomy is?" Chris Argent asked.

"I have a feeling I don't want to." Scott answered honestly.

"A medical term for amputating somebody at the waist-" The man explained, "Cutting them in half."

Amber's stomach tightened and she let out a shaky breath at the reminder of Laura Hale. Stiles' finger tightened around hers as if he could somehow feel her sudden anxiety and she locked her jaw to keep it from trembling.

"It takes a tremendous amount of strength to cut through tissue and bone like that-" Mr. Argent continued slowly.

She felt like she was going to be sick, the image of the gaping wound at Laura's hips flashing in her mind as clearly as the day she'd stumbled across it on the trail in the woods. She could vividly remember the long smooth cut in the flesh, the lack of hesitation where the blade had torn through her cleanly. She remembered the way she'd so easily been able to see all of the bones and muscles where the lower half of the body had been sliced open.

She was distracted by the memory, her blood pounding so loudly in her ears that she didn't even notice when the group of men left. She was pulled to her feet by Stiles' hands in hers and she blinked as her eyes finally refocused to find him standing in front of her.

"Y'okay?" He asked her quietly.

She nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through her nose, "Yeah," She said finally, "Sorry. I- I'm fine."

As she came back to herself, she tugged on his hand and jogged back up to where Scott was still caught in the trap. Stiles released her hand and he and Allison moved over to where he'd tripped the wire in the first place.

"Help me with this." Allison told him as they worked at where the trap was hooked up to a tree trunk.

Amber reached up to pull uselessly at the thick wire around Scott's ankle but he bent at the waist, leaning up, claws sprouting from his fingertips. He sliced them through the wire under her fingers easily and fell down to the ground, landing smoothly on his feet beside her.

"I think I got it." Scott announced with a goofy grin.

She rolled her eyes and reached up to punch him in the shoulder, "Show off." She scoffed.

Scott grinned wider and shrugged at her, reaching up to grab her shoulder and push her back in the direction of their friends.

"How long can we look for Lydia until we, like, desperately need to go home and get to bed for school tomorrow?" Amber asked the group at large.

Scott shrugged, "Maybe eleven?"

"Eleven?" Allison repeated in disbelief, "If I'm not home by nine, my parents will ground me for life."

"Nine?" Amber repeated this time, pulling out her phone to check the time anxiously, "Are you kidding? It's already almost eight!"

Stiles' arm dropped around Amber's shoulders and he pulled her into his side as they walked, "So, we'll look for another hour. My dad has the whole Sheriff's department looking for her, alright?"

She sighed, burrowing further into the warmth of Stiles' torso. A heavy feeling of worry settled deeper into her gut as she realized that if she was cold in sweats and a hoodie, then she couldn't even imagine how Lydia must be feeling.

They needed to find her.

On Monday night, Amber was typing up a search party sign-up sheet to distribute to the teachers at school the following day. She was desperate to find Lydia, but evidently four teenagers and the entire Sheriff's Department just wasn't enough bodies to cover the sheer amount of densely wooded territory that Beacon Hills was home to.

She was shutting down her laptop and stuffing it into her backpack when she noticed a dark figure in the corner of her eye.

"Jesus fucking Christ-" She whispered, flinching and knocking a cup full of pencils and highlighters to the ground with a small crash, "Derek!"

The older werewolf was sitting on the edge of her bed casually, flipping through the book that she'd been reading over the weekend at the hospital. His gaze lifted from the book when he heard her exclamation and he raised his eyebrows with an unimpressed look.

She huffed and bent down to pick up the spilled writing utensils, shoving them back into their cup aggressively, "You need a freaking bell or something." She muttered quietly under her breath as she got to her feet again and placed the cup back onto her desk.

"Or you need better hearing." Derek suggested, "I've been here for five minutes."

"You've-" She spun around to face him and scrunched her face up in irritation, "You could've said something, then. Instead of just lingering around quietly and waiting to give me a heart attack."

"You're not in a very good mood." He observed, closing the book in his hands and setting it back on the nightstand where Amber knew she'd initially left it.

"No. I'm not." She snapped quietly, turning back to her desk to finish putting her school books into her bag. "In case you forgot, I was present for, not one, but two murders a couple of days ago, one of my best friends was bitten by a werewolf and is now missing, and I've had an overall shitty weekend. I'm so very sorry if my mood isn't up to your standards."

"Okay.." Derek said slowly, "Well, I have a proposition for you-"

"Yeah? Well, I have a proposition for you too," She interrupted, spinning back around to face him, "How about you go back in time and not murder the only chance Scott had at being human again. How about that?"

Derek looked taken aback at her hostility, "What?"

"You said yourself that Peter was the only way Scott could be cured," Amber explained, huffing in frustration, "And you still went ahead and ruined it! You- you ripped your own uncle's throat out! I mean, sure, he was a total nut job but-" She took a shaky breath as the image of Derek's bloody clawed hand re-emerged in her mind.

"There is no cure." Derek said simply.

"Yeah, I know!" She snapped, "Because you killed-"

"No," He interrupted sounding wholly exasperated, "There was never a cure, Amber. There's nothing that can reverse the effects of the bite. Ever."

"But-" She faltered, eyebrows furrowing, "But you told Scott-"

Derek sighed a long suffering sigh, "I know what I told Scott. But he was being an idiot and I needed him to focus in order to help me find the Alpha," He explained, "I told him what he wanted to hear. That there was a way to fix everything and that the Alpha was the answer."

"You.. You lied?" She said slowly.

Derek reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed again, "Yes. I lied."

"There's no cure.. And there never was?" She asked, feeling like she needed clarification one last time.

"There never was." He confirmed.

She moved across the room slowly and sat down on her bed a few feet away from him as the information processed. Derek allowed her to sit silently for a long minute before he stood and crossed the room, moving over to the space in front of the desk that she'd only just vacated. He leaned back against the surface and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in thought.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to say before?" She realized, watching his behavior with a confused frown.

"I was going to get right into it but now I feel like I should explain things a little first." He said quietly.

"Explaining is good." She nodded slowly, urging him to continue.

He sighed and pinched his face in a tight frown, "All werewolves are drawn with the instinct to be a part of a pack," He started, watching her closely to be sure she was following, "But the instinct is different for Alphas. Stronger."

"That's why Peter bit Scott that night in the woods." She deduced.

Derek nodded, "Even out of his mind, he knew he needed a Beta to take up a pack bond with. Needed it in order to lessen some of that instinct- To make it bearable."

"And now.." She started slowly, "Now that you're the Alpha, you're feeling that instinct?"

"Yes."

She nodded, pulling her legs up underneath herself on the mattress and toying with her fingers in her lap as she thought, "What does it feel like?" She asked curiously, "The instinct to build a pack."

"It feels like shit." He said simply, "It's like- It's like a hollow feeling of loneliness. I felt it, when Laura died.. When I was a Beta and on my own for the first time, but-"

"But?" Amber prompted after a second of silence.

"But it's a hundred times worse as an Alpha," He explained, "Borderline painful. Just, this stabbing longing in your gut for something you don't have."

"But don't you have a Beta?" She asked, "I mean, Scott's a part of your pack now, right?"

Derek shook his head, "I'd feel it if he was. Scott doesn't want to be a part of my pack."

She frowned and Derek continued.

"-But I thought maybe you might."

"That I might what?" She questioned in confusion.

"Want to be a part of my pack." He finished, uncrossing his arms and placing his hands back to rest on the desk on either side of him.

"Like-" She blinked in shock, "Like, as a werewolf?"

"Yes. As a werewolf."

"I don't want to be a werewolf." She said quickly.

Derek frowned like he was truly perplexed, "You don't?"

"No!" She told him, "Wh- Why would I want to become a werewolf? Are you joking?"

"Why wouldn't you?" He prompted, "I mean, you'll be as strong as Scott. You'll be able to hear, see, and smell better. You'll be able to protect yourself-"

"While also attacking my best friends?" She finished incredulously, "No way."

Derek shook his head, "I'd help you control that. We could wait until after Wednesday and then we'd have a whole month before the next full moon-"

"No." She said again, "I- I don't want to be a werewolf."

His shoulders seemed to slump a fraction when he realized her decision had been made, "Fine."

She rose from the bed and approached him with a frown, "I'm sorry, Derek."

"It's fine." He told her again.

"We- We can figure something else out, though. I mean, I could help you find someone and then by the next full moon-"

"I already have someone else." He told her.

"I- You what?" She asked, looking up at him in alarm.

"I'm going to do it tomorrow." He said easily, "I watched him over the weekend to make sure he was the right choice for the pack. I'm going to talk to him tonight so he has some time to think about it and then tomorrow I'm going to give him the bite."

"Wh- He? He who?" She prodded, "And.. You're going to bite him a day before the full moon? Have you actually lost your mind?"

"I wasn't initially planning on doing it so soon, but circumstances-"

"Circumstances?" She repeated in disbelief, "What kind of circumstances could possibly justify turning someone into a werewolf with only twenty-four hours to prepare before the full moon?"

"The kid needs to be able to defend himself or there's a pretty good chance his piece of shit dad's gonna kill him." Derek explained after a moment of hesitation.

"'Kid'?" She questioned after he finished, "How old qualifies as 'kid'?"

"He's sixteen." Derek said, "Goes to your school. Isaac Lahey."

"Isaac Lahey?" She repeated slowly, her eyes drifting to the wall behind the werewolf as she pictured the outrageously tall boy on the lacrosse team.

"Yes."

Her eyes snapped back to Derek with a glare, "And how exactly are you planning on stopping Isaac from attacking and killing someone at school if he gets a little angry? Huh?"

"Isaac doesn't get angry." He said simply.

"Wh- Everybody gets angry." She argued.

"Not Isaac." Derek replied, "Kid's too scared to get angry."

"Scared of what?" She asked quietly.

"His dad. Himself. Everyone and everything around him." Derek listed off easily.

Amber shook her head and took a small step back, "His dad's that bad?" She asked softly, "You really aren't sure if Isaac will be dead in the next couple of days.. Because of his dad?"

Derek nodded.

"Okay.." She sighed, shaking her hands out at her sides, "Okay, we can figure this out-"

"We don't need to figure anything out," He interrupted, "You don't want to be a part of the pack and I don't need your help."

"You don't need my-?" She stammered, "Wh- Of course you need my help."

Derek's eyes narrowed, "I don't need any help controlling my pack. Especially not from a sixteen year old little girl."

"I- You came to me." She pointed out.

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "Yeah. Clearly that was a mistake."

He turned to leave and she followed after him in distress, "Wh- Derek don't be like that-"

"You want to stay human. That's fine." He told her without looking back, "But if you stay human, then stay out of things."

She opened her mouth to respond but he was already gone.

Amber got to the school on Tuesday morning early with the intent of getting the fliers printed out and distributed between the teachers before the start of first period at eight o'clock. She was surprised when she climbed out of her car at six forty-five to see Stiles and Scott tumbling out of the Jeep and heading toward the building already.

"Hey!" She called out, jogging to catch up with them as they walked up the path to the school, "Guys, wait up!"

Scott and Stiles both turned to her in confusion.

"What are you doing here so early?" Stiles asked curiously.

"I'm printing out the fliers for the search party tonight and then I was gonna work on my World History project in the Library until English." She explained, shivering when the breeze blew across her bare legs beneath the thick woven fabric of her sweater dress, "Do you guys have a morning practice or something?"

They both nodded.

"Every day this week." Scott told her.

She looked over at Stiles and watched him readjust his backpack over his shoulder awkwardly.

Amber's posture slumped as she regarded him, "Uh, what- What were you guys talking about?"

"Lydia." Scott supplied easily, flinching when Stiles elbowed him in the side aggressively.

"Why?" She asked quickly, "What happened now?"

Stiles shook his head with a sigh, "We think she raided a casket at the graveyard at like three o'clock this morning."

"'Raided a casket'?" She repeated, "What does that mean? What would she want from a dead person?"

"Apparently their liver." Stiles supplied.

"What?" Amber squeaked in surprise. "What would she do with a liver?"

"Eat it." Scott said with a disgusted wince.

"I never said she ate it. I just said that's what was missing." Stiles disagreed, wrapping an arm around Amber's shoulders over her backpack straps as he started walking toward the school building again, "And y'know what? Even if she did, so what? It's the most nutritious part of the body."

Amber gagged at the thought.

"I never ate anyone's liver." Scott pointed out.

Amber scoffed, "Yeah, because when it comes to werewolves, you're a real model of self-control." She said sarcastically.

"Actually, wait." Stiles stopped walking suddenly, his arm tightening around Amber's shoulder as he looked over at Scott, "Hold on. You're the test case for this," Stiles told Scott, "So, we should be going over what happened to you."

"What d'you mean?" Scott asked in confusion.

"I mean, like, what was going through your mind when you were turning, y'know? What were you drawn to?" Stiles asked.

Scott shrugged, "Allison."

Amber rolled her eyes with a deep sigh as she let her head fall back to rest over Stiles' arm, reaching up to fist her hand in the soft material of the heavy brown flannel he was wearing.

"God. Nothing else?" She asked Scott, "Seriously?"

Scott shrugged at his best friends, "Nothing else mattered. But- No. That's good though, right?" He asked, looking between them slowly, "'Cause the night that Lydia was bit, she was with the two of you."

Stiles sighed, his fingers gripping Amber's shoulder tight, "Yeah, but.. She was looking for Jackson."

They all frowned in thought and after a few moments, Amber reached up to pull Stiles' arm from around her back.

"Alright. We'll talk more about this later," She told them both, "But I need to go print off a bunch of sign-up sheets and you guys need to go get changed for practice."

Scott nodded and took a step toward the side entrance near the locker rooms, pausing in confusion and looking back at them when Stiles didn't immediately follow behind him.

"I'll be right there." Stiles promised, making a face at Scott over Amber's shoulder that she couldn't decipher the meaning of.

"Alright, dude." Scott agreed with a quiet laugh, "See you in there."

"What was that about?" Amber asked as she turned her head to watch Scott walk inside alone.

Her gaze drifted back over to Stiles and he had his lips pulled together nervously, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack tight, "I, uh, I wanted to say goodbye. Y'know, privately."

"Goodbye?" She chuckled, "I'm gonna see you in like an hour in English. I sit right in front of you, remember? Just like I have all year.. And, what-? Privately?"

"Nevermind."

Stiles huffed in annoyance and his gaze dropped to the sidewalk under their feet for a moment before he took a step to follow after Scott.

"Ohh.. Oh!" She realized suddenly, reaching out to grab his arm, "No, no! Wait, I'm sorry. You meant like-" She swallowed, continuing more quietly, "Like, a romantic goodbye?"

He shrugged, "Yeah."

She smiled at how cute he was, standing in front of her, looking adorably nervous. She bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to hide how ridiculously giddy she felt at having his thoughts focussed on her romantically.

"Okay." She told him softly.

"Okay?" He repeated.

"Okay. I'd like my romantic goodbye, now." She grinned.

"Oh, I- Okay." He said nervously, looking at the other students loitering around them for a moment before his eyes went back to her.

He took a small step closer, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as he leaned in painfully slow and she lifted onto her toes, gripping the loose lapels of his flannel between her fingers as she met his lips halfway.

She got lost in the feeling of his mouth on hers after a moment and when he parted his lips slightly on one of his slow, soft, repetitive kisses, she tugged at his flannel and unconsciously licked her tongue into the small opening of his mouth to quickly brush against his.

His hand spread out over the side of her face and he guided her to tilt her head so that his own tongue could follow on the next deeper kiss. Her fingers tightened further around the thick fabric of his overshirt, head hazy and unable to focus on anything except the points of contact between them.

She reeled back, flinching in surprise, as someone wolf-whistled at them from a few feet away.

"Oops." Stiles said quietly, a small smile on his lips as he dropped his hand down over the top of her shoulder.

"You should go get changed for practice." She told him breathlessly, eyes still focussed on the soft shine their kiss had left over his lips.

"Yeah." He agreed, making no move to put any distance between them, continuing to look at her with a goofy grin on his face.

"I think that'll require going to the locker room and y'know.. Getting changed." She prompted gently.

He sighed dramatically in feigned annoyance, "Yeah, okay-" He pressed his lips to her cheekbone in a quick kiss and dashed off toward the school's side entrance.

Amber stood in place for a few seconds, stunned. She lifted her fingers to brush delicately over the place where his mouth had left a clumsy kiss over her cheek, biting down on her lip to contain her smile. She laughed quietly to herself before shaking her head and walking down the path toward the main entrance of the building.

Once she was inside, she headed into the Library to print off several copies of the sign-up fliers she'd drafted the night before.

With a large stack of the fliers printed and ready, she pulled out a notebook and settled into one of the tables to jot down bits and pieces of information she needed to finish her project for World History. She worked on her assignment for just under an hour before she hurriedly put away the books she'd been using and packed her things back up, dashing out of the Library with the stack of sign-up sheets in her hands.

She rushed around to all of the classrooms to get a copy on each teacher's desk before taking off in the direction of the boy's locker room, hoping to catch Coach Finstock before he let the boys shower and get changed for classes.

She was nearly there when she spotted the back of Isaac Lahey's tall frame, still wearing his jersey from their morning practice and carrying his lacrosse bag over his shoulder, clearly the last one to come back inside from the field.

"Isaac!" She called, running up behind him.

The boy flinched at the volume of her voice and turned to face her in surprise. She frowned when her gaze caught on the dark purpling bruise over his left eye and her steps faltered momentarily before she regained her focus.

"Hi, Isaac." She greeted with what she hoped was a reassuring smile, fighting the urge to look at his injured eye.

"Um, hi." He said slowly, looking around as if he was unsure why she was speaking to him.

"What's up?" She asked casually.

"Uh," He slowed his steps to match her shorter stride and readjusted his bag over his shoulder, "I'm heading to the locker room. Lacrosse team had a morning practice."

"Yeah, me too!" She told him. Isaac looked at her in confusion and she continued, "I mean, not 'me too' like I had morning practice too. I'm just heading to the locker room. Gotta give this flier to Finstock." She supplied, waving the paper in her hands in show.

"Okay." He said slowly.

"I, um, I also wanted to talk to you." She said carefully.

"What about?" Isaac asked in confusion.

"I, um-" She paused, "I know Derek. Derek Hale."

Isaac's eyes widened and he looked around them quickly before his eyes drifted over her in scrutiny, "Are- Are you-?"

"No," She told him quickly, "But I know that Derek offered to-"

"I, uh, I should get in there. Gotta get changed or I'll end up being late for first period." Isaac interrupted, pushing the locker room door open and slipping inside before she could respond.

She looked at the empty space where he'd been standing a moment before and sighed before cautiously going through the door after him. She made her way through the changing room toward Coach Finstock's office at the back, where she handed him the flier as she explained the plan she'd gone over with the principal and Stiles' dad the day before.

He yanked the paper from her hands and stepped out of his office, "I have an announcement!" He yelled, pulling the attention of the teenage boys around him, "Gather 'round! Quicker!"

Coach nodded for her to step up beside him as the team slowly made their way to huddle in the area in front of his office. The teacher held his hand up to block her eyes for a moment and she blinked in surprise at the fingers in front of her face.

"Danny, put a shirt on." Coach berated quickly before dropping his hand, "Let's go! Gather 'round." He repeated, waiting until the boys in front of him gave him their full attention urging Amber to speak.

"Um, right." She said awkwardly, looking around at the lacrosse team, "So, the police are asking for help on a missing child advisory.. It's a, um, a sick girl roaming around.. It's my friend Lydia-"

"She's totally naked." Coach Finstock interrupted.

There was a small round of chuckles among the team members and someone at the back of the group whistled. Amber glared as she looked over the group of boys in front of her, meeting Stiles' gaze where he was giving her a reassuring smile as Coach continued.

"Now, it's supposed to get down to forty degrees tonight. I don't know about you, but the last time it was that cold and I was running around naked, I lost a testicle to exposure." He paused, seemingly lost in thought, and Amber frowned and reached up to give their teacher an awkward pat on his shoulder. He shook his head and the action seemed to refocus him quickly, "Now, I don't want the same thing happening to some innocent girl. So, police are organizing search parties for tonight."

He held up the flier in his hand and made a show of taping it to the outside of his office door.

"You sign up-" He told the group, "And you get an automatic 'A' in my classes."

The team cheered excitedly and rushed toward the sign up sheet, pushed past Amber and Coach Finstock as they hurried to write their names on the piece of paper.

She moved through the crowd of boys to look for Stiles and Scott and found them at the back of the room talking quietly. She brushed her hand over the back of Stiles' practice jersey as she stepped up beside them.

"What's up?" She asked curiously.

"We're gonna ask for Jackson's help finding Lydia," Scott told her quietly, peering behind himself at where Jackson was standing a few feet away, "If she's drawn to him, then maybe-"

"Jackson!" Amber called immediately, stepping around Scott and heading toward the other boy as her best friends both made quiet noises of dissent behind her. Jackson scowled at her as she approached and she continued toward him with a sharp look, "You're going to help us find Lydia." She told him.

"That- That's not exactly how we were planning on proposing the idea-" Stiles said quietly, stepping up behind her and resting a hand on her shoulder.

Jackson looked between the three of them with an unimpressed frown, "If Lydia wants to take a naked hike in the woods, why should I care?"

"Because a normal human being with feelings would be worried about her." She said sharply.

"-Also, because we have a pretty good idea that she might be-" Scott paused, looking around them cautiously before finishing in a quiet voice, "Y'know.. Turning."

"Turning?" Jackson repeated blankly.

"Yeah, turning." Scott replied slowly.

Jackson looked between the three of them again in confusion, "Into-?"

"A unicorn." Stiles snapped sarcastically after a moment of silence, "What do you think, dumbass?"

"Well, I think if Lydia's turning, she's not the one who's gonna need help." Jackson told them.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Amber asked, annoyed with his vagueness.

Jackson sighed, "You've got it all backwards. When I was with Lydia, you should've seen the scratch marks she left on me." He said with a smug grin, "What do you think she's gonna do with a set of real claws?" He laughed at the stunned look on their faces quietly and pushed past them.

Amber to a step to follow after him, angry at the derogatory comment within the implication, but Scott and Stiles both pulled her back with hands on her arms. She turned to face her best friends with a dark look still clouding her features.

"Y'know, for the record, he's completely full of shit because I know for a fact he isn't even that good in bed-" She revealed quietly. Stiles and Scott both looked at her in shock and she shook her head, "Not- Gross, not like that. Just- Girls talk about those things, so y'know-"

"They do?" Scott and Stiles both asked, sounding equal parts nervous.

"Yeah?" She told them in confusion.

"Girls.. They talk to each other about, like-" Scott stammered with wide eyes, "Whether it was good, or- Or average, or terrible, or whatever?"

She shrugged, "Yeah.. Do guys not do that?"

They both shook their heads and Scott spoke in a hushed voice, "It's more just like, 'hey, dude, I had sex', y'know? It's.. We don't really go into detail."

"Huh." Amber said as she processed the information. Her mind flashed with the in depth analyses Lydia had given her over the last seven months of her and Jackson's different sexual encounters, "Yeah.. Girls definitely go into detail."

"That's.. Terrifying." Stiles stated.

Scott nodded in agreement and they settled into a small lapse of silence as all three of them processed the new information they'd been given.

When third period rolled around, Amber entered the Chemistry classroom and moved toward the empty space beside Stiles, leaning down to press an enthusiastic kiss to the back of his head as she passed by. She dropped her books down on the table and settled onto the stool beside the window, turning her head to look at the boy beside her.

Stiles had a barely-there flush on his cheeks and he was already looking over at her with a dopey grin, his left cheek dimpling cutely.

"Hi." She greeted quietly.

"Hey." He replied.

"You guys are disgusting." Scott's voice announced from the table in front of them.

They both flinched in surprise and turned their heads to look at Scott.

Amber recovered quickly and leaned onto her elbows on the table, "Thanks." She grinned at Scott.

He shook his head with a small smile, "It wasn't a compliment."

She pulled out a pencil and her smile faded into a frown as Mr. Harris stood from his desk at the front of the room with a stack of papers just as the final bell rang out in the hallway.

"Alright." Mr. Harris said loudly, dropping small stacks of paper onto the tables at the front of the room, "You're going to do a pop quiz on chapters seven and eight so that I can monitor just how little you all are truly retaining." He told the class, looking around the room with a blank stare as everyone groaned quietly, "Once you have a quiz, you may begin."

Amber frowned as the papers were passed back slowly. Scott turned around to drop the quizzes on her and Stiles' table and he gave them a wide-eyed look of panic at the surprise assessment.

"You've got this, Scott." She whispered reassuringly, tapping her pencil eraser rhythmically on the tabletop as she lied.

He nodded at her with a quiet sigh and turned back around.

When she reached over to grab a paper from the stack, her gaze caught Stiles' and he raised his eyebrows in reference to the admittedly unrealistic comment of reassurance she'd made to Scott. She pouted at him with a small shrug before pointedly turning her attention to the quiz on the table in front of her.

She was halfway through the questions on the paper when Stiles leaned forward onto his elbows over the table to whisper between her and Scott.

"Alright, it's causing me severe mental anguish to say this, but.. I think Jackson's right." He told them quietly, his mind evidently on Lydia instead of Chemistry.

"I know." Scott responded in a hushed voice, angling his head back toward them slightly as he spoke.

"What if the next body part she steals is from someone who's still alive?" Stiles whispered again.

Amber's stomach clenched painfully at the thought, but it faded quick when Mr. Harris' sharp voice filled the quiet room and made her flinch in surprise.

"This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski." Their teacher said, glaring toward the back of the room over the brim of his small glasses, "If I hear your voice again, I might be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career."

"Can you do that?" Stiles questioned immediately with wide eyes.

Amber reached out under the table to wrap her hand around his knee that was jutting toward her, squeezing in a silent plea for him to keep quiet.

"There it is again. Your voice-" Mr. Harris said with an irritated scowl, "Triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student.. Repeatedly. And violently."

Amber bit down painfully on her lip in an effort to remain silent as Stiles' jaw dropped in disbelief beside her.

"I'll see you at three for detention." Mr. Harris stated, eyes drifting over to where Amber's face was pinched in frustration beside Stiles, "You too, Miss Callisto?"

She shook her head as she continued to bite down on her lower lip and Mr. Harris nodded in support of her decision to remain silent before he turned his attention back down to something on the desk in front of him.

She huffed a quiet breath of frustration through her nose and squeezed Stiles' knee reassuringly one final time before returning to her quiz.

"Dude.. Your nose." She heard Danny whisper from behind them after only a few seconds had passed, "You okay?"

She turned her head curiously to peer back toward Danny's table, watching as Jackson lifted a hand up to his face to cover what appeared to be a bad bloody nose. The boy pushed up from his chair quickly and rushed from the classroom and Amber watched him go with a small frown before shaking her head and turning her attention back to her quiz yet again.

At the end of the school day, Amber stood at her locker, clumsily stuffing her books into the backpack she had clenched between her knees as she hurriedly tried to collect her things. The sooner she got out into the woods to look for Lydia, the sooner she could actually find her friend.

And she wanted to find Lydia.. Like, yesterday.

"Here, let me help-" A voice said from just behind the door of her locker.

Her eyes snapped up in surprise and she watched the boy who had a locker three doors down from hers approach her. They'd never spoken, but he was on the lacrosse team and currently had his hand held out in an offering to take her bag. She hesitated in surprise for a moment and he gave her a friendly smile, raising his eyebrows in question as he reached toward her bag cautiously.

"Oh," She jumped, pulling the bag from between her legs and handing it over, "Thanks, Matt."

"No problem," He smiled, "You looked like you were struggling."

She laughed quietly and pulled a few notebooks she needed from her locker, "I was, actually. It's a lot easier when I'm wearing jeans and I can just squat down or prop my bag up on my knee or whatever."

He held her backpack open for her when she turned to tuck the notebooks inside and she heard him take a small nervous breath, "That.. That's a really nice dress." He complimented quietly, nodding his head in a gesture to her outfit.

"Oh," She blinked in surprise as she closed her locker, "I- Thanks." Her eyes caught on the large expensive looking wide-lens camera hanging around his neck as she turned and zipped her bag closed, "That's a nice camera. Are you a photographer for the paper, or yearbook, or something?"

Matt shook his head, relinquishing the bag to her as he responded, "Nah, I just take pictures for pleasure. It's more of a hobby than anything else."

"Oh, that's cool. Are you any good?" She commented conversationally, "Or- Is that a really annoying question?" She laughed, pulling her backpack straps over her shoulders.

Matt looked pleased, his posture seeming to straighten up a little at her curiosity, "Yeah, I think I'm alright." He smiled, "Maybe- Maybe I could show you some of my stuff sometime?"

"Yeah, sure. Sounds cool." She agreed, taking a small step to the side and pointing down the hallway, "I actually really need to get going, but- It was nice talking to you."

"Oh, yeah," Matt grinned, "You too."

She gave him another small smile before she moved toward the front entrance of the school. She needed to find Lydia before something terrible inevitably happened.

Amber hiked through the woods for nearly three and a half hours with absolutely no sign of Lydia. By nightfall, the temperature had already dropped significantly and she huffed out a foggy breath into the air as she finally clicked on her flashlight.

As the evening grew colder, she found herself feeling like an idiot for wearing a dress, even if it was a thick knit sweater that normally left her feeling a touch too warm, because while her torso was a comfortable temperature, her bare legs were covered in goosebumps.

She continued hiking in the dark for another thirty minutes before she heard a twig snap quietly in the distance. Her heart stuttered in her chest nervously and she took a shaky breath before making the decision to call out for her friend.

"Lydia?" She asked cautiously, continuing through the trees and shining her flashlight out into the darkness.

The beam of light caught on something pale white behind a tree and she took a few more quick steps forward to get a better look. The glow from the flashlight illuminated Lydia's naked body and Amber stumbled, scraping her knee roughly on the bark of the tree as she hurriedly ran toward her friend.

"Lydia!" Amber cried out in relief, watching the redhead take a small step over a rock with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Amber dropped her flashlight to the ground as she stepped in front of her friend and reached up to grip Lydia's arms. Amber looked into her friend's empty distant gaze and she tightened her hands around the other girl's cold arms.

"Lydia?" She asked softly, reaching up gently to move a knotted lock of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face, "You're okay. I'm gonna get you home, okay, Lyds?"

Lydia's eyes locked on hers for a second and the redhead nodded distractedly.

"Okay." Amber said softly in relief. Her hand on Lydia's arm tightened over her icy skin and Amber's heart stuttered anxiously, "Okay, we- We'll need to warm you up slowly, right?" She asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

She quickly dropped her hands from Lydia to pull off her dress, stripping down to her underwear without a second thought. Amber righted the thick knitted material now in her hands and slowly reached up to tug the fabric down over Lydia's head, untangling her friends arms slowly from where they were hugging her own chest to help guide her hands through the thick sleeves.

Lydia's body shivered at the sudden warmth enveloping her and Amber rubbed her hands up and down Lydia's arms worriedly.

"Is that a little better?" Amber asked quickly, "A little warmer?"

Lydia nodded minutely again and Amber looked down at her friend's bare feet nervously. Without hesitation, she pulled off her socks and sneakers, kneeling down in the dirt to help Lydia slide them both onto her freezing feet.

After she was done, Amber retrieved her abandoned flashlight from the ground and stood back up. She looked Lydia over and nodded to herself once she determined that she'd done the best she could until they made it out of the preserve.

She held out her hand toward her friend and Lydia looked at with a hollow gaze it for a few slow seconds before lacing their fingers together. Amber tightened her grip around Lydia's cold hand and pulled on her arm gently to lead her back toward the path she'd been following earlier.

As they walked, Amber's whole body erupted into goosebumps, dressed now in only the thin dark lace of her bra and underwear. She led Lydia as quickly as she could manage while still being careful not to rush her fragile-looking friend.

"Lydia, you have no idea how glad I am that you're okay," Amber admitted quietly as they walked, "We've been looking for you for days, you know. I was so worried that-" Her words cut off just before she could bring up the hunters who were also searching for her, "Just- I was really worried about you."

Lydia remained silent again but her fingers tightened a fraction around Amber's hand and that was as good of a response as anything she could've verbalized.

Amber's teeth were beginning to chatter and her toes were going numb as the cold earth seeped into her feet with every step. The numbness in her toes began to make it confusingly difficult to watch her step over twigs, and rocks, and tree roots when she couldn't even feel them beneath her.

They were only halfway down toward the trail entrance when she caught sight of flashing emergency lights through the trees and she made a quick decision to pull Lydia off of the path to head in that direction instead.

As they got closer, she could make out the different colors flashing of both an ambulance and a police vehicle. She reached out to move a large branch that was obstructing their path to the road. She clicked off her flashlight as she pulled the branch to the side, releasing Lydia's hand and urging her to go ahead of her through the narrow treeline.

"Lydia?" A voice said quietly as the redhead exited the woods and stepped out into the open, "Lydia!"

It was only when she heard his shout that Amber realized it was Stiles' voice. She stepped out from behind Lydia and continued to urge her friend forward. Her gaze lifted up to find Stiles and his dad standing a few yards away, staring at the two girls in astonishment.

Amber shivered violently and Lydia seemed to catch sight of it in the corner of her eye. The redhead blinked as she seemed to finally come back to herself and looked at the two Stilinski's with an unimpressed frown.

"Well?" Lydia asked, holding an arm out to gesture toward her friend's nearly naked body, "Is anyone gonna to get her a coat?"

Amber laughed quietly at her friend's typical snark but it came out as more of a trembling gasp as her body shuddered from the cold. Her eyes found Stiles but he was seemingly focused on her distinct lack of clothing, staring with his mouth open in awe.

He wasn't able to meet her gaze, struck dumb as his eyes drank in every blissful inch of bare skin on her shivering body. The only remaining thought in his head was dedicated to memorizing each and every curve adorning her nearly naked body. Until this very moment, the sight was one that he'd only ever been graced with in swimsuits — that, while perfect and incredible and had worked as fuel for many of Stiles' late night fantasies — couldn't possibly hold a candle to the thin lace weakly attempting to conceal her goosebump-ridden skin now.

His eyes found the unlined cups of her bra, the painfully hard buds poking through the material in the cold air and practically begging to break free, the dark lace pulled tight over the curves of her breasts.

He's nearly high with the static in his brain, blood rapidly rushing south and rendering him mildly dizzy as he reached up to grab ahold of the Sheriff's uniform jacket, pulling distractedly at the shoulder as he tugged the material down his dad's back without tearing his hungry eyes from what might very well be the most important thing he'd ever set sight on.

He yanked at the coat while stepping toward the two girls, head spinning and managing to trip over his own feet, hands slipping from the fabric when he fell and was forced to try to catch himself before he could hit the ground.

"Jesus." Sheriff Stilinski muttered, shaking his head at his son and stepping around the fallen boy to approach the girls, "Yep, here y'go." He said, pulling his coat off the rest of the way and draping it around Amber's shoulders.

She gasped a shaky breath at the warmth inside of the heavy jacket and couldn't help but shiver again.

The Sheriff's gaze drifted over the other deputies surrounding them and his eyes narrowed at the way they were blatantly staring. He turned back toward Amber and stepped in front of her protectively, instructing her to slide her arms through the sleeves and then tugging the coat closed around her. He zipped it up to the girl's neck before he stepped back and allowed his son to approach.

The Sheriff led Lydia away toward the ambulance that was already present while Stiles stumbled to stand in front of Amber.

"I found her." She stated obviously, shivering again.

Stiles nodded, eyes dropping to the long expanse of her bare legs beneath his dad's jacket before he dragged his gaze back up to her face.

"Did- did you just check me out?" She laughed quietly, "Because it wasn't subtle, like, at all."

"I- you're in your underwear." He observed, licking his lips nervously.

"Lydia was in the nude." She countered easily, "It was a pretty easy decision."

"Right." He nodded, blinking at her distractedly like he wasn't really seeing her.

"You're still just picturing me in my underwear?" She questioned slowly.

"Yeah." He told her honestly.

She shook her head with a fond smile, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his neck. She burrowed her cold nose into the warmth of his neck and sighed contentedly against his skin.

"I can't feel my toes." She admitted in a muffled voice against the collar of his flannel.

He reached up to rest his hands on her back, "Where's your car?"

"At the bottom of the trail on route 5." She told him as the tip of her nose began to warm back to a normal temperature.

"I'll give you a ride." He told her immediately, rubbing one of his hands up and down her spine as if he were trying to rub some warmth into her body.

She nodded against his neck before pulling back slightly in his arms. Her eyes flicked slowly over his face and she was pleasantly surprised when he tilted his head to press his lips against her cold mouth.

When he pulled back, she sighed happily as her eyes fluttered open again, "Lemme just go say goodbye to Lydia real quick."

Stiles agreed and jogged down the road to where he'd hidden his own vehicle when he and Scott had snuck onto the scene earlier.

She turned to the other side of the street and stepped around the side of the ambulance, her gaze locked on Sheriff Stilinski standing beside his patrol car. He waved her over and she followed his command easily, stepping past the ambulance and walking toward where Lydia was sitting in the open door of the police vehicle.

A paramedic was shining a small penlight into the redhead's eyes as he checked the dilation of her pupils, he apparently approved of whatever he saw because he tucked the light away and stepped back from the vehicle. The man nodded his head and said something quietly to the Sheriff as Amber stepped into space he'd vacated at the side of the car.

"Hey, Lyds." She said softly, squatting down in front of her friend, "You okay?"

Lydia huffed and pulled at the hem of her borrowed sweater, "You don't need to speak to me like I'm a child."

"Sorry." She apologized quickly, "I didn't mean to. I just.. I was really worried about you."

"I'm fine now." Lydia told her simply, still looking down at her own lap.

Amber reached up to tuck a strand of tangled strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, "You don't have to say that to try to appease me." She told her, "I want you to be okay, but if you're not, that's alright, y'know?"

Lydia sighed and locked her eyes with Amber's determinedly, "I'm fine."

She frowned but nodded, "Okay.. I just, I came over to tell you Stiles is driving me back to where I left my car down the road."

"Okay." Lydia shrugged, "You don't need my permission to run off with your boytoy."

"Gross. My boytoy?" Amber laughed quietly.

Lydia cracked a smile and rolled her eyes, "Yep."

Amber shook her head, "Okay, well.. D'you mind if I swing by to see you after school tomorrow?"

Lydia frowned in confusion, "I'll be at school tomorrow." She stated.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Amber questioned worriedly.

"What did I say about speaking to me like I'm a child?" Lydia huffed quietly in annoyance.

"I- Sorry, I just- That seems so soon after.. Everything."

"I am going to school tomorrow." Lydia repeated sternly.

"Alright." Amber sighed, rising to stand, "Then I'll see you tomorrow. Do- Do you maybe want a ride in the morning?"

Lydia pulled her lips back in thought, "Sure, that would be nice."

Amber nodded before leaning into the car to wrap her arms tightly around Lydia's shoulders, pressing her mouth against the mess of her hair in a soft kiss, "I'm so glad you're okay." She repeated softly one final time.

When she leaned back out of the doorway, her throat felt stupidly tight with affection and relief but she managed to give Lydia a pained smile anyway.

Lydia returned her smile softly when she saw the influx of emotion on her friend's face, "See you tomorrow."

Amber nodded, focusing intently on not sniffling before she spoke, "See you." She said quickly before turning to rush over toward Stiles.

When the Jeep pulled up along the road, Amber climbed into the passenger side quickly, immediately pulling her legs up to her chest inside of the heavy jacket she was wearing.

"I've literally never been this cold." She muttered as she reached to buckle her seat belt around her legs awkwardly.

"Yeah, that can happen if you're hiking through the woods naked when it's thirty-eight degrees outside." Stiles told her, glancing over at her worriedly as he drove down the road.

"Right, yeah. That makes sense." She laughed, bending to blow a puff of warm breath into the opening of the jacket around her chest.

"I- Is your brother home tonight?" He asked after a moment.

She looked across the dark car at him as her brows furrowed, "No.. Why?" She asked skeptically.

"I just- I don't really want to leave you alone." He admitted softly.

"I'm cold, Stiles. I'm not concussed." She laughed quietly. There were a few short seconds of silence before she continued, "I really wanna use my own shower, but if you- I mean, you don't need to try and convince me. If you wanna stay the night, you can."

Stiles let out what looked like a relieved breath and she laughed quietly again as he turned into the small dirt turnoff where her little yellow Pacer was parked.

"Did you think I wouldn't let you sleep over?" She questioned curiously.

He shrugged, "I mean- I don't know. Maybe."

She frowned, "We sleep over at each other's houses all the time."

"I didn't know if maybe it would be, I don't know- Different.. Now." He admitted quietly.

Her frown deepened, "I- D'you think it should?" She asked, "Should it be different now that we're-"

"No." Stiles said quickly, "I mean, I don't want it to be different. Well, I want it to be different, what with the kissing and- Y'know. But I don't want the other stuff to be different."

She sighed in relief, "Good. I- Same." She agreed, "Because, I mean, no matter what, you and Scott will always be my best friends in the world."

"Same." He repeated easily.

"Okay." She nodded, straightening her legs back out from beneath the jacket and unbuckling her seatbelt. "So, I'll meet you at my place then? D'you just need to run home to get your stuff?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Lacrosse practice at seven again." He reminded her, "But I shouldn't be long, maybe fifteen minutes."

"Okay, cool." She smiled, "I'll see you then."

She turned to reach for the door handle but Stiles leaned across the vehicle and turned her face back toward him gently with a hand on her cheek. She made a quiet noise of surprise but before she could really question his intentions, his mouth was pressed softly against hers.

He leaned back quickly and nodded his head toward the door behind her with a small smile, permitting her to leave now that he'd given her a kiss goodbye.

"See you." Stiles finally responded softly.

Her stomach erupted with butterflies and she bit down on a smile as she pulled on the door handle that was still under her hand.

When she climbed into the shower ten minutes later, Amber had to actively fight against the instinct to climb in underneath a spray of scalding hot water. Instead, she turned the water to a sad lukewarm temperature that still managed to feel blessedly warm when it ran over her frozen skin.

She cleaned her hair and body while the water slowly raised her body temperature and only after she'd scrubbed away any remnants of the forest and shaved her legs, did she finally let herself crank the temperature up.

The spray of water began to steam around her and the heat caused her body to erupt into pleasant goosebumps from the shock of it. She tipped her head back under the spray, letting the hot stream of water run down over her face as she blew out a relieved breath.

There was a sudden, loud knocking at the bathroom door and she flinched with a gasp, knocking her elbow painfully against the tiled shower wall as she heard Stiles' voice from the hallway.

"Hey, I'm here." He called out through the closed door.

She spit out a small bit of water that had gotten into her mouth and reached to shut off the water, "Okay, sorry! I'll be out in a minute!"

Stiles gave her his assent before presumably leaving to head toward the bedroom while she climbed out of the shower and pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and a short-cropped tshirt.

When she stepped into her bedroom, Stiles was already changed into sweats, laying on his stomach on the bed and doing homework. She moved to her own backpack to pull out her phone, her Algebra II notebook, and calculator before flopping down onto the mattress beside him.

"What're you working on?" She asked curiously, leaning close and peering over his shoulder to look at the page in front of him, instantly recognizing the Chemistry problems that she'd already finished in class that morning.

"Chem." He supplied distractedly as his pencil moved across the paper.

She flipped open her own notebook and finished up the math problems her AP class had been assigned, gnawing absentmindedly on her lower lip as she worked. It took her about thirty minutes to finish her assignment and she flipped her notebook closed once she was done, turning her head to look at Stiles and finding his gaze already focused on her.

A small smile pulled at her lips, "Wh-"

He leaned in and cut off her words with a kiss.

The way his lips pressed against hers was more firm and intentional than the last several quick kisses they'd shared. She found herself leaning in enthusiastically as his mouth moved against hers, her arms readjusting to support herself on the mattress as she chased his lips and pushed further into his space.

They were awkwardly meeting halfway while sprawled on their stomachs and Stiles moved up onto his knees without breaking the kiss, leaning over her until she rolled onto her back. He repositioned himself to kneel between her spread thighs and she dropped back onto the mattress beside her abandoned notebook.

As soon as they settled into the more comfortable position, she reached up to cup the side of his face, thumb rubbing along the smooth skin of his cheek. He tilted his head on the next open-mouthed kiss and his tongue slipped into the space between her lips to brush against hers smoothly.

Time moved in a blur. They kissed languidly for a long stint of time, tongues meeting sensually with each slow drag of their lips. Stiles hovered above her, his arms pressed into the mattress on either side of her with a palpable gap of space between their bodies.

She wanted to tug him down until he was pressed against her, but she worried that she wouldn't be able to make herself slow down once they'd made it that far. She felt painfully aware that the two of them had never even been on an official date and as much as she desperately wanted to go further with him, she wanted to do other things first.

There was a slight lightheadedness creeping into her brain from the length of time they'd been kissing without pause and she separated their mouths to pull in a much needed deep breath.

When she looked up at him, his eyes were fluttering open to meet hers and he leaned forward just enough to brush his nose tenderly against her own. Her thumb stroked over his cheek again and she looked between the warm brown pools of his eyes as she continued to catch her breath.

"We should probably go to sleep." She murmured quietly, the pull in her gut contrasting sharply with her words.

He nodded in response, his nose caressing hers again softly as he did so, "Okay."

"I don't want to," She told him honestly, "But we definitely should."

He nodded in agreement again and leaned down to press one more lingering kiss to her lips before rolling off of her all at once. She sat up on her elbows and watched him collect his books from the opposite side of the bed and stuff them into his backpack.

Her eyes caught on the unmistakable tent in the crotch of his sweatpants and she swallowed painfully, averting her eyes and collecting her own school supplies to put away.

Once she was finished, she pulled the blankets down the bed and crawled underneath, looking up at Stiles expectantly as she waited for him to climb in after her.

He moved across the room to flick off the light before he finally followed suit and slid under the blankets, settling onto his side on the mattress next to her.

She laid down beside him and situated herself in a position mirroring his own before scooting backwards to press her back against his front. He made a small noise of surprise and she let out a nervous breath.

"Sorry. Is this okay?" She asked quietly, "Like, cuddling or whatever?"

"Yeah," He said quickly, dropping his hand over her waist and tightening his arm to pull her back against him more firmly, "Yeah, cuddling's good."

She sighed in relief and tangled her fingers with his where they were resting over her stomach, her eyes drifting shut. A few minutes passed in silence and she was just on the brink of sleep when Stiles squirmed uncomfortably behind her. He let out a quiet huff of frustration and wiggled gently, readjusting his body while trying not to jostle her too much in the process.

"Stiles?" She asked sleepily, "You good?"

"Yeah." He froze in his movements, "Sorry."

She tipped her head back and tried to peer up at him in the dark, "Are you uncomfortable?" She asked obviously.

"No." He denied quickly, "Well, kind of- But it's not-"

She rolled over underneath his arm and propped herself up onto her elbow, squinting at him in the dark.

"How would you be comfortable laying?" She asked quietly after a moment.

"I'm not sure," He admitted, "I mean, I've never really-"

"No, that's not what I meant." She interrupted softly, "I mean, if we weren't touching at all, if you weren't worried about the snuggling part, what position would you be the most comfortable sleeping in? Right now?"

He was silent for a few seconds as he thought about her question, "Uh, maybe.. Maybe on my back?"

"So, lay on your back."

He shuffled around in the dark and flopped onto his back, holding himself stiffly in position.

She snorted, "Yeah you look very comfortable."

Stiles huffed in frustration, "Well, I don't- I don't know. I just, I don't know what to do with my arm if you're here. Do I- Does it go underneath you? Or, it'll fall asleep, right? And I can't imagine it would be comfortable for you-"

"Stiles. You're thinking about this way too hard, okay?" She laughed quietly, "Pretend I'm not here. Just move around until you're comfortable."

She heard him let out another quiet sigh and he shifted around again underneath the blankets, bending his arm at the elbow to reach one hand up underneath his pillow. He wiggled around for a few seconds before the movement ceased.

"Okay," He said determinedly, "I'm comfortable."

"Okay," She repeated softly, "I'm gonna lay down too, but if it's not comfortable anymore, just tell me."

"Okay." He promised quietly.

She grabbed her pillow and moved it into the small space under his armpit to position it over his bent elbow. She scooted down the mattress slightly and rested her head on the pillow over his arm, stretching her own arm across his stomach and rolling onto her side. Her leg came up to drape over his thighs and she burrowed her face into his shoulder as she tightened her limbs around him slightly.

When he remained silent for a short stretch of time, she looked up at the side of his jaw again in the dark.

"Is this okay?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." He admitted, turning his head to the side on his pillow and pressing his chin into the top of her hair, "Yeah, this is nice."

"Okay. Good." She laughed quietly and snuggled into his side, her thumb tracing along his ribs softly through his shirt, "Now, go to sleep."

"'Kay."

#selenophiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stilesfic #stiles stilinski x oc #dylan obrien fanfic #stiles #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stilesfanfiction #stiles fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fic #tws2 #2x01 #*

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Hi again! Here's another thing I'd like your angle on: When trauma catches up with either Minthara and Florrick, how do they help each other cope?

hi! This is tough to answer because you first have to arrive at one or both of them a) registering the fact of being traumatized and simultaneously b) welcoming help from anyone, let alone one another.

Cut for wall of text

Minthara picks and chooses what trauma she's willing to recognize (e.g. she will talk pretty freely about Orin, but will never acknowledge the trauma of her upbringing). Florrick definitely thinks she doesn't have any because the only real setback she's ever experienced in her life was Wrym's Rock and that Turned Out Fine. So the first barrier is that neither is really likely to open up.

In my headcanon, Minthara opened her heart to a Tav only for them to choose someone else, so she's more hesitant than ever to open her heart, even as much as she desperately wants that connection. She would write Florrick off as not being able to understand because she didn't experience the tadpole herself and has only ever heard the worst of Menzoberranzan, and she's also very cognizant of the fact that Florrick wants her to change. She feels like she's still at war, so showing any "weakness" just wouldn't fly. Florrick would be able to recognize when Minthara was upset, but being more emotionally reserved and not a words of affirmation type, her attempts to support in other ways would probably fall short. (This is increasingly the conflict in my fics).

For Florrick, hubris is a big part of her personality and I think she sees herself as being logical and methodical, when really she just isn't. She was on board with the logistical implications of losing Ulder to the Absolute and grieving for her city, but she doesn't quite grip the purely emotional impact of the truth that she was almost killed, her talents and efforts weren't enough, she was betrayed by a monster wearing the face of the most important and trusted person in her life. It keeps her up at night, but she holds the feeling at arms' length, trying to rationalize it away. Minthara, depending on how emotionally engaged she's feeling, might not have a lot of sympathy because betrayal and impending execution are just a regular Tuesday to her. At her best, I think she'd actually be quite good at comforting Florrick with her poignant words and grounding touch, but she's also self-conscious of her feelings in contrast to what she perceives Florrick's to be, so she could easily hold back.

Another thing is that Florrick has something that Minthara doesn't: other people to turn to. If she felt she needed support, she would seek out Ulder, other friends, or other more established romantic partners first, both because they know her better and because she isn't sure if Minthara wants to be that emotionally intimate. For Minthara, the loneliness of surface life is a big pain point these days, so feeling like Florrick chooses others over her builds resentment and makes her less likely to try.

So basically, they could help each other cope, but... it's spotty at best.

#minthara/florrick #hopefully this is comprehensible as I've been brain dead for a few days #asks