This Is Fucking Terrifying

stiles lets his anxious girlfriend run her hands through his hair as a coping mechanism i don’t make the rules

— signed, someone who actively does this

PJO SEASON 3 RENEWAL HOW WE FEELIN FOLKS

wtf is anon on … if you don’t like it, scroll.

keep doing you my dear and writing whatever the hell you want <3

making stiles and stuart be twins and share a girlfriend is kinda weird and kinky don't ya think?? like they wouldn't do that irl

Well, it's a good thing that we both have freewill, right? I get to write whatever I want and you get to read whatever you want 💜

i can't // mitch rapp x reader

the day was long enough as it was; your body lethargic, dirt staining your skin as it burrowed toward your nail beds, forehead slightly pink from the blood that you wiped away. you stared at the remnants on the back of your hand as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor.

time was moving slowly, caused by the exhaustion from the mission you had just completed. barely completed. alone, but with enough luck to get you by. the beckon to report your conclusion in person was a weight that made your shoulders drag. your head hanging with as much disappointment. you cursed, aloud, and to yourself, but still found your empty body waiting in the lobby of the CIA's empire.

leaning against the frame, you listened as the elevator sung, the contraption opening at a decreased pace, predetermined energy conserved to just get you past the doors -

you saw gold. you always did whenever you looked at him, it was the first feature that entrapped you from the very beginning. they were hidden behind hooded eyes but you were still magnetised. he looked just as tired as you, if not more, the length of his hair long enough to lick at his cheeks as he finally focused on your waiting form.

his gaze grew slightly. it was as if realisation hit, and you only just managed to stop the door from closing as you spent your time staring at one another in silence.

you were alone today because of him. he was alone today because of you. it was never like this - never alone. you and mitch rapp shared every second of your lives at one point, and it was glorious to revel in a partnership that stretched beyond the field. but you didn't just have each other's backs, you had each other's hearts.

muscles that not only pumped blood, but held passion and endearment. that kept promises and oaths. hearts that were given to another for safe keeping - but they ended up shattered, like everything in this cruel world that kept you employed.

you took a step forward and spun away from him, your nose inches from the closing door. he remained at the back. it is a shame that your job left you both bitter and stubborn - emotional regulation gone out the window, patience slipping through fingers that hardly had the energy to grasp anymore. you both would argue from the moment the sun exchanged roles with the incandescence of night, to when the birds sung their morning lullabies.

it provoked two souls to tear apart. but the giddying warmth, the contentedness that often hid behind closed doors, the love that pulled you two together once upon a time still lingered. and it fucking hurt.

"i miss you."

your voice was hardly recognised by your own ears, but mitch heard perfectly. it was a thought that swam in your mind daily and the courage to let it slip past trembling lips was only found when all defences were down. a bitter-sweet opportunity forced by your fatigued demeanour. your tone was quiet but it still shook. nearly as much as the contraption you were standing within.

it made mitch gulp. the innocence of your tone thumped strongly in his chest, the confession making his fingertips twitch with need. he stared at the back of your head before you were getting closer, his feet absentmindedly pulling him toward you.

the next sound he heard was your breath hitching. his own hitting your neck as he stood behind your form, hands desperate to grab onto your waist. but he forced himself back before the roughness of your denim jeans could graze his callused skin.

florals. even after the day you had, he could still smell the floral scent of your shampoo. or maybe it was just burnt so thoroughly in the back of his mind that he was imagining it. just like this moment. he dreamt of it so much.

he also dreamt of the moment he would hear the angelicness of your voice again.

and the way you would touch him.

how he would touch you.

but this world is indeed cruel. and this man has loved and lost before. twice, now.

he wanted to reassure you, but found it difficult to push sentiments from the weight of his tongue. he could end it right here, right now. but he won't. he can't hurt again, and he would only hurt you more in the end.

mitch drew a deep breath and you felt it once again as it tickled loose hairs on your neck.

"i can't."

strained syllables escaped him as his pained tone cracked through the empty elevator space. it echoed, digging deeper in your hearts the more the sound reverberated. he squeezed his eyes closed, the honey shade disappearing.

the movement around you both stopped, the door opening to your destination.

you drew a deep breath now, finalising the anguish that pushed and pulled in your chest.

"i know."

HELLO STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET I AM GOING TO BE AN AUNT TO A BABY GIRL ( i have 3 nephews and this is my brother’s first girl ) I’M LOSING MY MIND

OKOK BSF STILES WHEN ANOTHER GUY IS LIKE ACTIVELY HITTING ON U INFRONT OF HIM AND HES ALL JEALOUS.

okok so i feel like bsf!stiles and bf!stiles are different types of jealous hear me out. also this isn’t like being hit on directly in front of him but this is what came out when i sat down to write so i’m sorry if you wanted smth different :/

bsf! stiles who knows he has absolutely no claim to you romantically, but still abhors the thought of someone that isn’t him being with you in a romantic context.

bf! stiles who is insanely possessive over you and borderline more territorial than any of his literal werewolf friends ( i’ll elaborate in another post )

imagine if you’re at school, fiddling with your locker because the stupid thing just won’t budge and before you can open your mouth to cuss it out, a voice asks if you need help.

you spin, startled, but smile as you take in an unfamiliar face. a new kid, more than likely, and you accept with a grateful smile. after fiddling with it for a few seconds he yanks it free and you thank him, offering him a tour of the school in return as a thank you.

and he’s nice. he listens to your ramblings about certain teachers and which people to avoid and where to sit at lunch and the best places to hide if you want to skip class. he laughs at your jokes and offers you soft smiles that would make any other girl practically melt at the sight.

as you’re walking to class stiles rounds the corner and you beam, jumping at the opportunity to introduce the new kid to someone else so he isn’t entirely a fish out of water. and stiles can see the way he looks at you. the guy’s eyes are alight with a curious fascination as they flicker between you and he can see the moment he decides the two of you are just friends. when he decides stiles isn’t a threat to the plans he seems to be making.

his jaw sets in a firm line, greeting him casually but there’s something hard in the tone of his voice that you can’t exactly pinpoint. it makes you pout, because why is stiles being so decidedly unfriendly? it isn’t like your best friend to dismiss someone out of hand unless he has a damn good reason. and from what you know, he’s never met this guy before in his life. instead of questioning it the way you want to, you shrug it off and tell stiles you’ll see him later. maybe he’s just having a bad day. he mumbles a goodbye and you return it half-heartedly, turning back to your companion.

little do you know, stiles tracks you all day. he watches you as the guy openly flirts and you don’t seem to reject his advances. he watches as you direct him to sit with him and the pack at lunch. he watches, and that ugly green-eyed monster in the pit of his stomach grows. he’s practically livid but he hides it well to the untrained eye. and he watches at the end of the day as the guy asks you out. he doesn’t stay to hear your answer.

it’s all he thinks about at practice, the scenes replaying in his head at a torturous pace and his annoyance is on full display. it’s a distraction, one that gets him berated by coach more than once, even earns him questioning looks from his teammates and an interrogation from scott.

he’s not upset at you. god, how could he be? you’re perfect. smart and pretty and kind and loyal and utterly captivating. he knows that it’s inevitable for someone else to see you the way he does. he just wishes he’d have actually done something about it. but he doesn’t even know if you feel the same way. and he isn’t going to ruin the friendship you two have just because he was the idiot who fell in love.

( part 2?? maybe?? do we want it?? )

i’ve been sick so i haven’t written anything for a bit but i just came to say that video of the maze runner cast dancing the wobble will never not do things to me

no i love YOU so much 😭🫶🏻

stiles x autistic!partner hcs

a/n: april is autism awareness month and i wanted to do smth with our favorite boy! 🫶🏻 reader has lower support needs ( as this is based off of my experience as an autistic person with lower support needs ). not everything will be applicable to all readers.

he’s not unfamiliar with autism, exactly. he knows a lot of his adhd traits intersect with autism traits, but he’s never had a reason to explore it further.

until you.

when he learns that you’re autistic, he goes on one of his adhd deep dives ( sort of like when he went on the werewolf dive when scott was first bitten ).

he knows a LOT about diagnostic criteria ( and sometimes wonders if he himself fits it but that’s for another time ).

he also learns what your dislikes are— tastes, textures, sounds, etc. so he can do his best to keep them away from you. he also knows that are perfectly capable of doing those things yourself but he keeps track anyway because he loves you and he wants to help.

he’s never infantilized you before and he knows that you are your own person. god forbid anyone tries to take your autonomy or imply that because you’re autistic, you can’t do simple things or basic tasks.

but if you do end up needing a little help here and there, he doesn’t mind. he knows what it’s like to struggle with neurodivergence and he’s had a lot of practice with his own. maybe he messes up sometimes but he has good intentions.

he notices shifts in your behavior almost instantly. most of your friend group does but that’s due to supernatural senses; stiles just has an innate focus on you and learns to tell when something is different.

and he does his absolute best to soothe whatever is causing your distress. if some of your classmates are talking too loud or yelling across the cafeteria, he asks to take you outside away from it. or if you’re at a party and suddenly there’s too many people around, he’ll take you to somewhere more secluded. overstimulation is a feeling he knows well, so he sympathizes and does what he can to aid you.

he memorizes a lot of your coping mechanisms. whether it’s the way you tap your fingers together or how you brush the fabric of your skirt back in forth because it’s a texture you like or the rapid onset of blinks that seem to go like clockwork, he knows them all. sometimes he uses them too.

YAP SESSIONS. having an adhd boyfriend is a blessing when it comes to conversation.

he can talk for hours on any of his given topics and so can you. hyperfixations and special interests go hand in hand and god forbid if both of you have the same one at the same time. it happened once and you both ended up staying up all night without realizing it because you were too in depth with your conversation.

and just because he likes to talk, it doesn’t mean he won’t let you talk. sometimes when he needs his brain shut off, he’ll ask you to talk about one of your special interests. not because it bores him, but because he likes listening to the sound of your voice and because your passion for the subject makes it interesting to him. he likes knowing why you enjoy things so much and it helps him when he’s feeling overwhelmed.

he downloaded a text-to-speech app for you for times when you go non-verbal. lydia did too but he was the first because he wanted to make sure that everyone was still able to understand you. communication king.

stiles is REALLY bad at following schedules but if you need one, he makes sure he has it memorized and reminds you when it’s time for something. he can do it for others but when it comes to himself ? not so much.

you went to give him a hug once and his shirt was a fabric/texture you hated, so he threw it away. he wants you to be comfortable around him.

he keeps your safe foods stocked at his house and some in his backpack just in case. once, the cafeteria decided to experiment with the menu and it did not turn out well.

if someone asks “what kind of autism do you have?” he gets defensive. as someone who has dealt with adhd stereotypes and ignorant comments, he hates to see it happen to you.

i know i haven’t posted in like a week but i pinky promise i have something cooking for y’all and i’ll give u hints in emojis ( surprise surprise they’re both stiles related )

#1 😡

#2 🎶

stiles and sandman!reader blurb

a/n: this was inspired by the song “at all costs” from wish and i was going to do a full length fic but i can’t quite get it right so right now here’s a blurb! testing the waters to see if it’s smth y’all would want <3

you weren’t supposed to dream.

in all of your years, you had never dreamt. no terrifying nightmares, no reliving moments of your past, no outlandish fantasies that fleeted from your brain the second you woke. not even when you were little. it had never been unusual to you, knowing that your family were dream guardians— or more commonly known in lore, sandmen.

you weren’t sure when it had started, when the images of a boy with dark hair and equally dark eyes had started to come to you. but the longer it went on the more you grew attached, to look forward to sleep and to seeing the serene face in your dreams. there was no name, no identifying factor other than his soft features that brought you comfort rather than disturbance.

you kept it a secret. not because it was particularly dangerous or untoward ( as far as you knew ), but rather because it felt good to have something uniquely your own. and maybe because you were afraid if you told the other members of your family, the dreams would stop. and selfishly, you couldn’t let him go.

stiles had never kept track of his dreams. most of the time they were weird and nonsensical and filled with allusions to his favorite nerdy media. and they never repeated. sure, some of them had the same premise or started the same way but there was always something different about them, something that made each one different. that was, until a few months ago when he had begun to dream of a mysterious girl. the first time he figured it was a product of his imagination, a fantasy he had created to combat his lack of a relationship. but then he dreamt of her again.

and again. and again. and again.

always the same over and over. the girl frozen in time, her eyes gentle and her smile kind. she never spoke but it seemed like she wanted to. of course, he had to be going crazy. how could a figure in a dream want anything? wanting was so completely and utterly human, something he knew very well after dreaming of her for months. he wanted to know her so much it bled into his waking hours, leaving him desperate for the time he’d close his eyes and see her again.

he didn’t tell anyone. with all of the nonsense he and his friends went through, this small pocket of peace that he found in his sleep was something he wanted to keep to himself ( and maybe he was afraid they’d make fun of him for making up a literal “dream girl” ).

for months they dreamt of each other. always watching, memorizing until they could recall the features of the other as well as they could their own. neither of them understood the true depth of their connection, nor that it was real and more tangible than any dream had a right to be.

after all, the saying is “dreams do come true”.