This Applies To All My Fluff Lovers Too :)

Here's a little pep talk from Stiles 💜:

"Hey... Hey, look at me. Life sucks, I know. It's horrible. It's a big, ugly, mean monster with sharp teeth and a really bad comb-over and- ok, I'm getting off-topic, sorry. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that there's probably always going to be something bad happening, but there will also always be something good.

"No, no, don't look away. Eyes up here, remember? There we go. Much better. So, like I was saying, there's good stuff out there too. It can be hard to find, especially these days, but it's there. Just... take a moment to look for it. Take a nice, long, deep breath, and look around for a second. It doesn't have to be anything crazy. Maybe the wind is blowing in your favor to show off how hot you are, I don't know. It could be anything.

"And in really dire situations, because, yeah, there's plenty of those around here, look inside yourself. I know it's scary, I don't like doing it either. But the more you do it, the easier it'll get. Start small. Like... What's one thing you tolerate about yourself? You don't have to love it or like it, it's just something you're ok with. You've come to terms with its existence.

"Then, move on to something you do like. Even just a little bit. Come on, don't look at me like that! You're smarter than you think you are, there's gotta be a bunch of things. Alright, it's ok if there's not yet, but there will be eventually! We'll work on that.

"Now, as much as I love giving you all the love in my heart, you gotta give yourself some of the love you have in your heart too. I can't take all the credit, that would be greedy. Besides, have you seen yourself!? My God, I could pass out at any second, I'm serious! And even if you aren't vibing with the physical stuff, you have so many lovable qualities and talents that blow my mind every single day. You're not a useless blob of goo, ok? You're beautiful - inside and out - and special. You're very precious to me and so many others, even if they don't tell as often as they should.

"You're doing great, I promise. You're trying, that's all we can do, you know? Everything's gonna be ok. Well, eventually. It might seem like forever, but it'll happen, I know it. I love you so much."

Dad update for anyone who remembers that whole shit show area of my life:

He said to me today, "You could be an oleander of death."

I couldn't agree more, thanks dad 💜

THIS IS SO CUTE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I LOVE THIS AAAAHHH!

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”.

Dairy Queen Dream

Word count: 1,030

I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!

Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil. 

He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.  

However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.  

Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.  

Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.  

Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?” 

As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten! 

He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.  

A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.  

He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?” 

An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.  

Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.  

That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter. 

Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him. 

“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.” 

“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.” 

“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.” 

Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch. 

“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.” 

Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.” 

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling. 

With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.  

Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.  

He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.  

AH I'm so excited! What an absolutely adorable snippet 💜

Hey guys, I finally got it to work. Turns out Tumblr was throwing a hissy fit if I tried to put any text indented :(

So, condensing everything I had to say: I'm posting a fic later today, I'm posting an April plans despite how late it is, and I'm also posting a snippet of the fic I'm posting here.

Anyway, here's the snippet. I hope you like it (also, it's part of a flashback so have fun guessing what the actual fic is about <3).

Snippet below

Your blades hit the ice with a sharp little scrape, and for a second, you wobbled—just enough to make you stumble forward a step and throw your arms out. The cold shot straight up through the soles of the rentals, settling in your knees, your spine. But then balance returned, muscle memory catching up, and you pushed forward with one foot, gliding out toward the center.

Stiles saw you before you could call out.

His head whipped up so fast it was a wonder his neck didn’t snap, and he immediately started flailing his way toward you, half-skating, half-praying to the friction gods that he didn’t go down in front of everyone. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, but they deepened into something bright and blooming the second you met his eyes.

“You made it!” he called, way too loud, like the music and noise and chaos had vanished and he just needed to fill the space between you with his voice.

You grinned. “You sound surprised.”

“I was surprised!” he said as he skidded up next to you, arms wheeling a little before he caught his balance. “I—I thought you weren’t coming. You weren’t answering your phone, and I thought maybe—maybe your mom bailed or like, you got kidnapped on the way here or something or I don’t know, fell into a Christmas tree lot and froze to death because that happens, and—”

“Dude,” Scott’s voice came from somewhere behind him, amused and exasperated in equal measure. “You’ve been doing this for the last twenty minutes. Let 'em say hi.”

You caught Scott looping around with a smooth turn, skating backwards effortlessly like he was auditioning for the Olympics. He winked at you and then made a face at Stiles, mimicking the nonstop motion of his mouth with one hand.

Stiles looked back at him, scowled, then whipped around to face you again.

“I’m just saying, okay?” he huffed, arms crossed now, chin tucked down defensively. “You didn’t answer your phone and I know you said you’d try, but like, you never just not text, and I thought maybe—well. Never mind.” His voice dropped at the end, losing steam.

You softened immediately, reaching out to gently tug on the hem of his sleeve. “Hey. I had to catch a cab last minute. Spent the last of my allowance on it, too.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide. “You did not.”

You shrugged. “You guys are worth it.”

That shut him up. At least, for a beat. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again—but nothing came out.

Scott skated by in a tight circle, doing a ridiculous spin that earned him a loud “show-off!” from a random teen nearby.

“Let me guess,” you said, watching him skate off with mock suspicion. “He’s been doing that since you got here.”

“Ugh, yes,” Stiles groaned. “The second he realized he was good at skating, he’s been all ‘look at me, I’m a majestic deer’ or whatever.”

You barked a laugh and leaned in slightly, bumping your shoulder into Stiles. “You’re not doing so bad yourself, Stilinski.”

He flushed deeper, and for a second he looked like he was going to say something cocky—but then he caught the slight curve of your smirk, and all the wind left his sails.

“I missed you,” he blurted instead. “Like. A lot.”

You smiled, and it must’ve shown in your eyes, because his ears went red.

“I missed you too,” you said, your voice a little quieter now.

He blinked rapidly and then made a weird noise that was probably meant to be a casual laugh but sounded more like he was choking on his own tongue. You giggled, skating around him once in a loose circle, and then held out your hand.

“Come on,” you teased. “Before Scott starts spinning so fast he creates a vortex and takes out a bunch of third graders.”

“You’re assuming that wouldn’t be hilarious,” Stiles muttered, but he took your hand anyway, fingers clumsy in his gloves, grip tight like he was worried he’d fall right through the ice if he didn’t hold on.

You tugged him forward, and he followed without resistance, grinning and unsteady and full of energy like he didn’t know how to hold it all in. He slipped once or twice, cursed loudly, clutched your arm, then laughed so hard he nearly dragged you down with him. And through it all, you just kept your hand in his and skated a little slower, steady and solid, just enough to keep him upright.

Scott whooped somewhere across the rink, executing a wobbly jump that made a kid scream and his mom glare.

“See?” you said, laughing. “Vortex. I warned you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, cheeks pink and glowing. “Whatever. If we get pulled into a black hole of Christmas-themed ice death, I’m glad it’s with you.”

You tightened your grip on his hand and squeezed.

“Same, Stilinski.”

Maybe like a cuddle fluff where he’s laying on top of you and playing with your curls?

Wow, it's been a long time since I got this. I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait. I have no excuse other than falling into the rabbit hole of Sebastian Stan... So, yeah, I had no inspiration for anything else. Again, I'm so sorry. I hope this turned out ok...

P.S. This can apply to natural curls or heat curls, whichever works for whoever is reading :)

P.P.S. I just realized that I misread the request. Shit.

The Recoil

Word count: 573

He was mesmerized, to say the least. He always had been. He'd stare at the back of her head as she walked in front of him, watching her luscious curls bounce with every step. He'd constantly be dying to touch them, and he'd try until his fingers were clutched to himself closely, rubbing the ache away after having them get whacked a few too many times. Apparently, some people don't like having their hair meddled with.

Thankfully, that's not the case for his girlfriend anymore. Now that they're happily dating, he gets to touch whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's made that very clear. She no longer minds Stiles' insistence because she is officially sure that it's out of affection, not annoyance.

The two snuggle up during any free time they can spare, and for as long as they can get away with, in countless positions and arrangements. They take turns spoiling the other with caresses, paying extra close attention to the other's hair and scalp (Stiles' favorites). There's a certain smirk that appears on his face when it's his turn to get his hands on the precious silk of hers.

Stiles lays on his back with his girlfriend's head placed gently on his chest, and their legs tangled. He brushes all the hair back and over her shoulders, away from her face. His eyes are focused but keep a delicate gaze. One by one, he lightly pulls on each spiral with his calloused fingertips until it extends to its full length, then lets go, watching it constrict again. His smile grows slowly in adoration, not noticing the confusion that grows on her face.

"Stiles...?" she asks softly.

"Hm?" He barely glances up to her face before he continues his attention on her hair, only halfway through her mane.

"What are you doing?"

"Just, you know. Enjoying the recoil."

She tilts her head back to look up at him. "The what?"

"Hey! You moved," he says, scowling.

"Yeah, thanks for noticing," she retorts. "What are you doing?"

His defensive words get a bit jumbled up and a heat spreads across his cheeks. "I'm just, you know. Right? The recoil. The hair, your hair, and the curliness, and the... you know? The recoil."

She can't hide the big, loving smile on her face as she keeps looking up at his.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he says, staring right back at her.

"You're very cute, Stiles."

"No." He practically glares at her. "No, I'm not. Absolutely not. Just, just put your head back the way it was and stop worrying about it, ok? Relax."

Stiles' girlfriend chuckles softly and does as he says, resting her eyes again and enjoying the gentle pull of his fingers. There's no point in teasing more than he can take.

Meanwhile, he can't contain the red heat which is traveling down his neck. Stiles doesn't understand and never will understand how she can make him react like this. Usually, he's easily able to keep a cold, sarcastic front, but not with her. Not with that smile. Not with those eyes. Not with her dreamy curls. And certainly not with her laying against him.

In the end, he's still smiling fondly, noticing her thumb that slipped underneath his shirt to brush across his waist. It's the little things that get to him most and drive him absolutely crazy for the love of his life.

How do you think stiles would react to finding out his gf was cheated on in the past?

He gets busy and forgets to let her know he’ll be late to their movie night and she immediately assumes the worst and he’s shocked to find her upset and self conscious and insecure when he finally makes it home.

I bet he would feel so bad even though he genuinely didn’t do anything. He would be absolutely flabbergasted that anyone would dare step out on her. He would probably even get genuinely angry at the idiot when she tells the full story.

Oh my gosh, this is so sad yet sweet at the same time!

Since he doesn't already know that she was cheated on, walking in to see her in tears and unable to keep eye contact with him would be beyond confusing and concerning for him. He'd rush over to her, immediately wanting to hold her and talk everything out, asking what was wrong, only to painfully watch her take a step back from him.

"Where were you, Stiles? Where the hell were you?" she'd sob out, keeping a cautious hand between them.

He'd be thrown off by the question, not expecting an interrogation and stuttering his words out. "I-I was just helping Scott with a lead after practice, that's it, I swear..."

"Call him." she'd order, trying to sound like she has a grip on the situation, but her insecurity is evident.

"What?"

"Call him!" At this point, she's desperate, needing certainty and concrete proof that he's telling the truth.

Stiles almost jumps, still so confused about why she's so upset. "Ok, ok, I'm calling him right now. See?" He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns it so she can see what he's doing. He calls Scott right away.

Without giving him any context or revealing her presence, Stiles asks him to tell him all about their previous whereabouts. Scott speaks casually and simply but is clearly lost on why he's doing this. However, she knows he's telling the truth because he's not really known for his lying abilities...

Stiles hangs up right after she gets her proof. "There. Do you believe me now? Or can you at least tell me what's wrong? I hate seeing you like this, you know I hate it when y-" He stops at the feeling of her body practically crashing into his as she clings to him tightly, letting a few more soft sobs out. His mind goes blank for a second before he gets his bearings and wraps his arms around her in a firm embrace. "Hey... It's ok. I got you. Just talk to me. What's going on?"

With a shaky voice, she tells him everything. Certain details are harder to get out than others, so at some point, Stiles leads them to the couch, still holding her close as she curls up against his chest.

Empathizing with people can be hard for Stiles sometimes, but never with his sweet angel. A menagerie of emotions swirls inside of him as he listens to her well - guilt, anger, disgust, sympathy, protectiveness, the list goes on and on.

He gently holds her face in his hands, looking straight into her eyes as he makes her a promise to never do anything horrible like that to her, to never show her any disrespect, to always be faithful to her, and to always let her know if he'll be running late from then on.

Still cradling her against him, they decide to watch something innocent and peaceful, and land on Bambi. Stiles will never admit it, but he teared up at the mother's death, squeezing her even tighter. Thankfully, she fell asleep before the movie ended

Thank you so much for your submission! I'm pretty sure I switched tenses halfway through, but I am far too tired to reread and edit this... My apologies, we'll all just have to deal with it. 💜

Just busy thinking about that trope where Stiles and Stuart are twins and they share a girlfriend...

Both of them are probably a bit possessive of her, showing it with their eyes as they watch the other around her, but don't say anything, knowing that the conflict would only end up hurting her in some childish argument.

Stiles is definitely more open about his desires to show his affection with physical touch. Stuart probably has just as deep of a desire for that but isn't as bold. He's definitely more subtle and isn't big on PDA.

The two probably internally compete to give her the most pleasure when in the bedroom, but refuse to be vocal about it, because, again, it'd only cause her more stress.

Noah has probably walked in on the three of them snuggling on the couch and quickly moving away from each other more than a few times. They do their best to keep him from finding out because they don't even want to imagine his reaction.

Perhaps they take turns going out with her on somewhat public dates for personal romance purposes, but they try to be a bit discreet so that no one suspects the truth about their situation and judges them for it. Plus, the secrecy adds to the fun.

And all of the cuddling possibilities... They probably refuse to be anywhere but on either side of her. Why would they miss out on her touch by being next to their brother? So, she stays in the middle, turning over every so often to face the next twin after some time with the other. Maybe sometimes she has to forcibly decide their positions to vanquish their petty bickering and greedy hands.

She really tries to treat them equally, give them plenty of attention, and make sure that neither of them feels left out, and they couldn't be more grateful. In turn, they are always there to listen and support her when she's upset or going through a hard patch, looking at her lovingly, wiping away her tears, holding her hands, and giving her sweet words of encouragement.

Just some thoughts though...

P.S. If anyone wants an actual blurb about this, let me know :)

SOMEONE SEDATE ME

(Not mine! All thanks to Pinterest :))