Emojis symbolize holiday-themed prompts
◇◈◆◈◇
◆ General:
◇ Break-In
◇ Lost in the Dark
◇ Pen
◇ Imagination
◇ Project
◇ Fiasco
◇ The Recoil
◇ Butterfingers
◇ With the Deer 🎄
◇ A Date Before Midnight 🎉
◇ Mollified
◇ Effort for Love ❤️
◈ Rants, Headcannons, etc:
◇ Wrapping Presents 🎄
◇ Stiles finds out his girlfriend was cheated on
◇ A kiss on the cheek could cure me
◇ Period Snuggles
◇ Holding hands while he cries
◇ A pep talk from Stiles
◆ Stiles x POTS(Chronic Illness)!Reader AU:
◇ Battle Together
◆ Dairy Queen!Stiles x Reader AU:
◇ Dairy Queen Dream
◈ Rants, Headcannons, etc:
◇ Anxiously Waiting
This is perfection, THANK YOU! 💜
Saw this and thought of your series @kowbelll
You survived another week in a very tough world, even though at times it felt like you wouldn’t, and I’m so proud of you.
SOMEONE SEDATE ME
(Not mine! All thanks to Pinterest :))
Stiles Stilinski valentine’s day💌💐
✮⋆˙ Stiles would show up to your house and knock on the door before you’ve even woken up. He’s just too excited to spend this whole day that he’s planned. ✮⋆˙
✮⋆˙ He’s come over with your favourite breakfast, drink and a bunch of flowers. His bag filled with all your gifts and cards. ✮⋆˙
✮⋆˙ The day is a simple day but tailored to you. Your favourite lunch, he’s got it. Your favourite place, you’ll be there. Whether that be the arcade, aquarium or even a museum he is taking you and paying for the whole thing. ✮⋆˙
✮⋆˙ Of course he brought you lego to do. A shared interest between you too. The lego flowers were made together. The star wars lego you bought him was built together too. ✮⋆˙
✮⋆˙ The day ended in you and him cuddled up in bed watching some movie he let you choose. Eating and drinking your favourite food that he bought you.✮⋆˙
JJ Maybank and Spencer Reid coming soon…
For writers (and everyone in general) who have that desire to write in their heart but struggle with making themselves do it and enjoying the process of writing, you are not alone. It's not an easy thing and it takes a lot of brain power. It might come more naturally on some days, and not so much on others. Please be kind to yourself and your brain, just existing requires energy and it's ok if you don't accomplish every little thing every single day. We're all human. If you feel pressured by other people or yourself to write, just remember that there isn't a fatal consequence if you don't meet the deadline you want. You'll be ok and you're doing great. 💜
Thank you so much! I'm so glad that my writing has this effect, and that feeling of being seen was my goal! So many people are unaware of how much harder simple tasks can be when suffering from a chronic illness; it breaks my heart. Thank you again for this! My day is made! 💜
Rules on request??
Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type 🩷 and she doesn’t or does know about the pack you choose
This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!
Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!
Word count: 1,658
His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her.
His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scott’s voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didn’t her dad tell him? Why wasn’t he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didn’t know all of what was actually going on.
“Scott, wait, what are you saying?”
“She’s here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now they’re doing brain scans.” His friend was plainly shaken up too.
Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if-
“I’m on my way.”
Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop.
Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa?
His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.”
Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldn’t help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. “What’s going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-”
“Stiles.” Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.”
“Do you really know that...?” he asked hesitantly.
She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least.
“Let’s just go see her for now, ok?”
He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriend’s room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stiles’ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately.
They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity.
“Stiles,” she started, exhaling a deep breath, “I want you to be prepared for whatever this is.”
His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. “Wha- what does that mean?”
“It means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isn’t always as small as it seems...”
The woman’s eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadn’t seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friend’s family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job – to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation.
Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didn’t want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week.
“Are you ready?”
He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. “Yeah, I think so.”
As they quietly entered, Stiles’ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him.
“Hey, stranger.” Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her.
“Hey,” he chuckled. “You feeling ok?”
She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed.
Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room. He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldn’t result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed.
“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?” He took her hands into his.
Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didn’t want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable.
“I’m fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?” she said, her voice turning bashful.
“Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got that?” His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward.
“Yeah,” she nodded, her face approaching his, “I got that.”
As if he had a sixth sense for his daughter’s desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teens’ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa.
“Dr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case it’s not a concussion.” Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have some things I need to do for work, but I’ll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?’
The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway.
He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. “You’re staying with her.”
It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left.
“Yes, sir.”
Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree.
Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of “real” burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle.
Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast.
When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stiles’ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life.
Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news – there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her.
He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasn’t an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times.
There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay).
This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond.
◇ This is updated as I go, so every imagine/oneshot I have written is up!
◇ Emojis symbolize holiday-themed prompts.
◇ Request Guidelines
◈ Please do not copy, publish, translate, or duplicate any of my work, even if I am credited.
◇◈◆◈◇
◆ Dylan O'Brien
◆ Stiles Stilinski
◆ Stiles & Stuart Twins AU
THIS IS SO CUTE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I LOVE THIS AAAAHHH!
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”.