The Talent Here Is Blowing My Mind-

Part of being obsessed with Dylan O'Brien is reading "tmr" as "The Maze Runner" instead of "tomorrow" in everyday settings.

Like, I'm sorry, you're going to work out tomorrow? I thought you were going to work out the Maze Runner, and I almost got jealous.

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!

Battle Together

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.  

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 💜

Stiles on his 100000th rant of the day my beloved

This is the sweetest thing ever! Fantastic job, once again. I can't even form words-

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.

stiles introduction

This applies to all my fluff lovers too :)

I'm having a really sucky day so I just want to let everyone know how grateful I am for all of the kind feedback I've gotten. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see that my little thoughts positively impact others. I wish people were this supportive in person and in my daily life, but unfortunately, they're not. So thank you all for giving me something to hold on to.

To everyone who has sent me an ask, you guys are so amazing. I see them and I'll get to them as soon as I can. 💜

I'm about to go to bed, I can't take this heartache right now - I just can't.

stiles misses you

a/n: i have no excuse for this except i’m on my period and i love crying. this can be interpreted as the reader is dead or they broke up, whichever makes you cry more. xoxo 🫶🏻

stiles misses you.

he misses the sweet scent of your perfume when he walks past you and the lingering daze he’d be in from looking at you. he misses the saccharine smiles you’d give him and the playful ones you’d respond with when he winked at you in class. he misses the color of your hair and the way it shone in the sun like a beacon signaling home. he misses the sparkle in your eyes when you finally figure out something that’s been bugging you.

he misses the sound of your laughter, bright as bells and unapologetic, echoing through the halls and in his brain and how it was so much more intoxicating when he was the one who made you laugh. he misses your kind words, the gentleness in your tone and the way you can make anything sound sweet. he misses how you’d comfort him when he cried and whenever he had a bad day, rubbing soothing circles into his back and quiet murmurs of reassurance.

he misses the familiar sound of your voice, the way he hears it first out of every sound that goes through his adhd-riddled brain. he misses hearing your voice and knowing everything would be okay because you’re here and you’re safe and you’re all that matters to him.

he even misses the way that you fight. riding in silence in his jeep until you can’t take it anymore and yelling until you can’t breathe until you finally give in to one another and have it out the way you need to. whether it’s harsh or disappointing or all-consuming heartache, he misses all of the feelings you give him.

he misses your heartbeat. the steady sound of it pounding in his ears as his head lays across your chest and your fingers thread through his hair as you hum softly to him. he misses the constant calmness that comes with you being around when he’s alone, mind racing with anything and everything that won’t let him sleep at night.

he misses your clothes, the ones you’d leave around his house after sleepovers or just in case you ever needed an outfit replacement after some supernatural horror ruined yours. he misses the way they smell like you because the ones he has are beginning to fade and he’s afraid he’ll forget what that smell is. the smell of home.

he misses driving around beacon hills with you in the middle of the night when you’re stuck doing werewolf patrol, the silly games you’d play and the way you’d make up some outlandish rules to twist the odds in your favor.

he misses the way he always had someone on his side, how you would always believe him no matter what anyone said or did. you always held firm in your belief that stiles was right. he misses having someone to stick up for him about his ideas and having someone in his corner, rain or shine, right or wrong. he misses the feeling of togetherness, of being half of a whole.

stiles misses your stupid texts, the ones you’d send him while bored in class, not caring if you got caught and had your phone taken away. he misses the heart emoji you’d always put at the end of every one as a reminder that you loved him. he misses the texts in the middle of the night about questions neither of you can answer, whether philosophical or entirely improbable. he misses the way you’d text him good morning and how you’d always text him to make sure he got home okay.

he misses the hours-long phone calls talking about everything that was going on in your world, supernatural or not, good or bad. he misses being able to say whatever he wants to say without fear of judgement or apprehension. he misses the stretches of silence that come after you fall asleep on the phone together, your voice slurring as you fight sleep but you don’t want to hang up because you just want him. he misses knowing that you’re on the other end of the line, always waiting for him.

he misses you so bad that it chokes him, hot tears on his pillow as he looks at the picture of you two that he keeps on his nightstand. he misses you so bad he can’t breathe through the pained sobs that plague him every night, holding onto the pillow you used to use when you slept over, trying to cling to the memories that are starting to fade.

stiles misses you.

Aw thank you! I must agree, he's quite fantastic. I have no idea, I don't really like weddings to be honest lol

FAVORITE COLOR? I like navy blue 🤭 Also I'm in love with you

FAVOURITE COLOURS! THE AGE OLD QUESTION (I am so proud of this actually). I, uh, don't actually have one. I don't really have a favourite anything because to have a favourite seems like such a big thing to me and I just can't comprehend loving a colour THAT much. However, I am obsessed with green, a light coral blue, beige/cream, and soft browns!!!! I think I might be in love with you too actually. Marry me when?

THE GRAY HAIRS? HIS HAND? OH MY GOSH?