To His Left

Not possible, sorry 💜

Sorry to ruin everyone's day, but Stiles holds hands when he cries, without a doubt.

Maybe he holds his love's soft palm against his own cheek while he speaks with a tremble, using it as a tether to help him work through his emotions. Their hands are practically soaked from all of his tears, but he doesn't even notice. He's only focused on her and all the love he feels radiating from her touch.

Or maybe she's sitting with him while he waits for his appointment with his therapist after a long, hard day. He squeezes her hand, trying to take deep breaths and ignore how much his leg is shaking. He wipes his face of the tears that escape with a bit of annoyance at his vulnerability in a public space. Sure, there's only a few other people in there with them, and they're all there for the same reason - to get help - but Stiles has always been good at bottling his emotions up. Why couldn't he do it now?

And especially during his panic attacks, when every muscle in his body feels like it's on fire and when his lungs can't grasp the air he's reaching for, he uses both of his hands to hold onto hers, so tightly that they shake. Sometimes he presses their hold against his chest or his forehead, needing to know that it's real, she's real, she's there with him.

Also, just imagine little Scott holding little Stiles' hand as they walk home from their elementary school after getting into another fight with the biggest bully in the second grade. Maybe boys aren't "supposed to" hold hands, like everyone says when they're eight years old and clueless. Stiles doesn't care, though, he knows he needs this (yes, he waited until they were in his neighborhood, away from any curious gazes).

The moral of the story is that sweet, sweet Stiles needs physical touch to survive. Everything becomes easier when he has a hand to hold, and this goes far beyond just crying.

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.

To His Left

Word count: 938

It was Dylan's first day at his new school, the one he was transferring to in the middle of October during junior year. It wasn't very convenient timing, but his old school was a headache and a half. He was hopeful for his future in the new environment, regardless of the shy feelings creeping up on him.

He took a deep breath as he walked into his new English classroom a few minutes early, not wanting dozens of eyes on him in an instant. He immediately saw the bright smile of Mrs. Nixon, a young (mid-twenties), short, brunette, and cheerful woman who would be teaching him from now on. Her expression seemed to quickly ease his nerves, and he smiled back at her as he began to walk up to her desk.

He barely took his first couple steps before Mrs. Nixon spoke exuberantly, "Hi! Are you my new student? Dylan, right?"

He held onto the straps of his backpack tightly as it rested on his shoulders and nodded, his words falling out of his mouth, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me."

"Perfect! I'm Mrs. Nixon, and oh my god. Sorry, I'm just so excited. This is a good class to join, as far as my junior classes go, I'm glad you were put in this period," she spoke rapidly, her ecstasy evident.

Dylan couldn't help but smile at her, appreciating her happiness just because of his presence. It felt good, so he tried to keep the conversation going, "Oh yeah? Do you teach another class?"

She sighed, then rolled her eyes as she spoke, "Yes, unfortunately. Half of my periods are full of freshmen."

Their comfortable chatter continued, and neither of them noticed that the bell had rang until his soon-to-be peers started flowing in. He looked around, realizing that he had no idea where he was supposed to go. Mrs. Nixon noticed his confusion and pointed to an empty desk, "Oh, Dylan, you can sit right over there, desk twelve."

He nodded as he walked over, trying not to let his face heat up when he heard Mrs. Nixon inform the class of his new presence and saw the eyes of everyone on him. He forced a polite smile and nodded as he sat down, and seconds after, his attention was grabbed by the gorgeous girl sitting to his left. His eyes widened a little and he hoped she didn't notice while she introduced herself with the most flattering smile he'd ever seen.

His words left him before he knew he was even speaking. "Nice to meet you, I'm Dylan," he said, feeling his hands get clammy.

"So I've heard," she spoke casually, making him chuckle nervously when he realized that Mrs. Nixon literally just told the entire class his name. "And it's nice to meet you too. If you have any questions about what we're learning about or the school, let me know."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling. She seemed so nice and laid back, as if talking to him was the easiest thing in the world, whereas he was struggling to contain all of his various emotions. She was either really good at this, or really good at pretending to be good at this. Either way, he enjoyed every second of their conversation.

"Sweet, thanks. I'll make sure to do that," he was a little disappointed when his attention was diverted to the lesson, right after he spoke.

As soon as the lesson was finally over, his gaze turned toward the girl to his left again. He really just wanted to talk to her again, the only problem was that he had nothing to say. He searched his scattered brain until she finally spoke and snapped him out of his staring, "You good?"

Dylan's eyebrows raised when he realized how weird he might have seemed, just looking at her without a word. He quickly tried to defend himself with a clearly forced tone of nonchalant, "What? Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. Just got distracted. But technically, it wasn't my fault."

She gave him a look of suspicion and tested his ability to keep his cool, "Oh really? So it's someone's fault that you got distracted?"

He smirked, hoping with his entire soul that he wouldn't mess this up, "Exactly. See? You're getting it."

Her eyebrows furrowed but she couldn't hide her small smile, "Getting what? What the hell are you talking about?"

He hesitated for a second, looking away. Screw it, he thought, and he shrugged his shoulders as he looked right at her again, "You're distracting me. I mean, come on. How am I supposed to not look at you?"

A bit of blush crept onto her cheeks and her smile unintentionally grew. She paused for a second, letting his words sink in and trying to think of how she could possibly respond to something so bold from someone she just met that day. She collected her wits and responded as confidently as she could make herself seem, "That's interesting, coming from someone who doesn't even know me. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but have you considered the possibility that you just suck at focusing on anything other than girls?"

He suddenly felt his own face heating up, not having expected such a sassy accusation. He chuckled, mostly nervously, "I plead the fifth."

She simply rolled her eyes with a smirk as Dylan kept smiling like a dork. They knew that this seating arrangement was going to be entertaining for both of them, and Dylan was excited to have a pretty girl to look at during English, directly to his left.

Note: I have no idea if this is good or not, but if it somehow is and someone wants me to keep this storyline going, then I happily will. Just let me know :)

Dylan in Thailand!

Effort for Love ❤️

Word count: 1,078

Happy Valentine's Day!

Stiles had it all planned out. It was going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever. It had to be; it was their first spent together as a couple. Some (Isaac) might say he was taking it too seriously, but he strongly disagreed. It was his duty to make his girlfriend feel as special and loved as possible.

With a big smile, he drove to the surprise destination, stubbornly refusing to answer all of her questions. She was radiating with excitement in the passenger seat – she had never had someone so dedicated to her happiness. It took all of her strength not to peek under the blanket in the backseat which was clearly hiding a menagerie of items for their date.

She was giddy, and seeing that on her face made Stiles giddy too. He did that. He was the one who was making her feel that way. And knowing that was the best feeling in the world. 

“Can I at least get a hint or something? I need to mentally prepare!” 

“Absolutely not. And don’t worry about mentally preparing, you’ll be very relaxed, I promise.” Stiles spoke with a calm yet adamant voice, though he couldn’t ignore his nerves. This was a big moment for him.  

“Oh, I’ll be relaxed? Does this mean there’s a massage in my future?” she teased. 

He smirked. “Maybe later if your gift is as good as I think it’s going to be.” He glanced at the neatly wrapped box sitting in her lap, filled with all of his favorite goodies and the new video game disk he’s had his eye on for his Xbox. She knows him better than he’d like to admit. 

“Well, I guess we both just have to wait and find out then.” 

“I guess so.” 

The next ten or so minutes were peaceful, their chatting and laughter filled the air. That was until an unsettling screech made a bold interruption. Before they knew it, the Jeep was slowing down. Stiles instinctively pulled off the mostly empty highway.  See, he took a route that he knew she wouldn’t recognize, one that most wouldn’t take on a holiday because it leads away from town and past all the popular scenic spots. 

The poor guy was trying not to panic. He had just recently gotten major work done on the vehicle, so watching it break down yet again was beyond frustrating. He put it in park and stepped out with a huff, closing the door with a little bit more force than he meant to. Steam flowed from the front of the Jeep as he lifted the hood, making him cough a couple of times. 

Seeing his anger and devastation as he cursed out his car was worrying for his girlfriend. She knew that he had spent over a week planning this, but she started to truly realize how much he truly wanted to do this for her as she, too, stepped out, making her way to his side. 

“Stiles-” 

He shook his head, looking at her with sincere remorse as he interjected. “No, look, I’m sorry. I know you were excited and this kind of ruins everything I had planned, but we could try again another day, you know? We could have another Valentine’s Day next week and just forget everything-” 

She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Yes, he had always been hard on himself, but this was just ridiculous. “What? No. Stiles, I don’t care if it’s not perfect or not exactly how you planned, weren’t not just going to throw it all away. We still have time; we still have the whole evening.” 

“Yeah, but we’re not going to make it to the beach in time for sunset and a tow truck could take hours, maybe all night!” he blurted, his frustration at the situation still growing. 

Warmth filled her cheeks and a soft smile grew on her face. “You were taking me to the beach for the sunset?” she said delicately. Her heart had never felt so full. 

“Yes,” he sighed. His hand then gestured toward the still steaming Jeep as he spoke, saying, “Yeah, I was… Until this stupid piece of-” 

“You’re the most adorable, romantic, sweet, and loving man in the world.” Her words were filled with such sincerity that Stiles froze, his face turning to the same rosy red as hers. 

“Wha-… Really? You’re not, like, mad or something?” For some incomprehensible reason, he was struggling to believe the situation at hand. How could she be so understanding? Why was she so calm? And smiling? What the hell was going on? 

“Of course I’m not mad,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why would I be mad when I have the world’s perfect boyfriend all to myself on Valentine’s Day?” 

He was faltering, his hands barely making contact with her waist. “I’m not perfect…” 

Her lips were firmly pressed against his instantly. “Shut up. Yes, you are.” 

Stiles was floating, a nervous, blushing mess. How did he get so lucky? 

After a little more convincing, Stiles agreed to go through with his plan on the side of the highway instead of the beach since they were still miles away. He made his girlfriend wait in the passenger seat with her eyes closed (he was very firm about that) while he moved the blanket from the backseat to the pavement and set up the red candles, red and pink flowers, sandwiches he made himself, and boxes of chocolates for dessert.  

The scene in front of her when she opened her eyes was straight out of a romance movie. She was practically speechless as she moved towards the blanket to sit with her beau, both of them grinning uncontrollably. The evening turned out to be the most magical moment imaginable, beginning with a call with the towing company, of course. They spent the five-hour wait basking in the love they had for each other and the sunset that still made an appearance.  

When it became too cold to sit outside any longer, they packed up and sat in the Jeep again, where Stiles opened his gift with glee. He nearly crushed her ribcage with the bear hug he gave her. And yes, it earned her a massage, of sorts, in the backseat.  

Curled up against each other under the blanket, they exchanged handwritten love letters and read them out loud to each other, closing their very romantic date with a loving bang.

Stiles being upset and in need for a hug for @takaraphoenix

With the Deer 🎄

Word count: 827

“It’s so cold.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens during Winter.”

“Winter doesn’t start until next week.”

Stiles whipped his head in his girlfriend’s direction, narrowing his eyes at her in both disapproval of her correction and admiration of her knowledge. "Whatever. It’s December. It still counts.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand, leaning closer towards him as they strolled through his neighborhood with Stiles insistently staying on the side of the gray pavement by the street. He knew the boyfriend code like the back of his perfect hand. That’s also why she was sporting his lacrosse hoodie, not him.

It was getting late, but tomorrow was the weekend, so without school haunting them, they didn’t have a care in the world. Their focuses were on each other and the Christmas lights that were strung across the houses, trees, balconies, and bushes.

The pair marveled at the vibrant, dazzling bulbs and the occasional character figures on the lawns or in the windows. There were lots of Santas, big and small; a few penguins; some snowmen; a handful of sleighs being pulled by reindeer; and a big, inflatable yeti (Stiles’ favorite).

Since this was their first Christmas as an official couple, he was adamant about honoring as many traditions with her as possible. He impatiently demanded that his father hang up their lights on the first of December; he got up early that morning to check all the bulbs so that the house would be completed right when his dad got home from work, which Noah wasn’t exactly excited to do after a long day. After that, he waited until at least 80% of his neighbors had put up their lights too. It was a painful wait, but definitely worth it due to the look on his girlfriend’s face.

Suddenly, his lips mischievously curved upwards as he spotted something at an upcoming house. Stiles leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he softly spoke, “Hey. Go stand over there.”

She turned her head to look at him but his eyes stayed fixated on his target. “Where?”

Still smiling, he pointed at the arrangement of three large deer of different heights, depicting a family, with his free hand. His other hand released hers and reached into his pants pocket, retrieving his phone.

She glanced at the deer, made up of plastic, wire, and bright white lights, then at his phone in his hand, and her eyes met his face again. Her hand was already feeling close to frozen without his, and they stopped in front of the unfamiliar house.

“You want me to pose for a picture with the deer?” she inquired hesitantly, considering that it was a random person’s lawn.

“Yeah,” Stiles said simply, and he opened the camera app, still smiling. He looked up at her when she didn’t move right away. “Get your ass over there.”

“Ok, ok, I’m going...” She shuffled her way over to the deer and stood in front of them, facing her boyfriend and smiling.

The boy, so incredibly whipped, couldn’t pull his eyes away from the beauty before him. His hand holding his phone was still resting in the air by his belly button.

When she realized, her face filled with self-aware warmth. “Are you going to take the picture or not?”

His eyes widened and he tore them away. He fumbled with his phone, trying to lift it in a timely manner. “Yep! Yeah, I’m, um, I’m doing that right now.”

He did his best to pull himself together and focus, taking about forty pictures in the short span of ten seconds, even getting a few different angles. When he was finally done, he inspected a few of the pictures, and his big smile returned. He was completely entranced by the flow of the lights behind her, making her seem even more angelic than usual, and therefore not noticing that his girlfriend was by his side again, peeking over his shoulder to see the pictures too.

Eventually, Stiles realized this, and his gaze met her face. He tilted his phone in her direction, speaking affectionately, “Look at how pretty you are.”

All she could do was smile at him – she was far too consumed with love to even begin brainstorming a response. “I love you, Stiles,” she finally said.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and faced her once more. A big kiss was pressed from his lips to hers. “I love you too. So much. Like, so incredibly much.”

At some point, they made it back to his house and buried themselves underneath multiple layers of fuzzy blankets on his bed, desperate to warm up their chilly bones. It wasn’t until later that she noticed that Stiles had changed his wallpaper to one of the pictures he had taken of her with the deer. Her heart nearly melted. It was obvious how much he loved it, and it was obvious how much he loved her.

Note: Thank you for all the support on my last imagine! I appreciate you all 💜

HELL YEAH, GUYS!!!! I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH.

More fics are coming soon it's just this one request has made me realise how much I hate a character and that's put me off writing so much. No hate to the requester of course, that's my bad for accepting it and this is just the consequences of my own actions. However, I am wanting to write something so if you wouldn't mind filling out this poll underneath it would be greatly appreciated!!!

I'm begging on my hands and knees, please pick one!!!!

The "as long as it's" repetition is killing me omg.

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. 💜

Have you tried responding? Maybe it's just a little woodpecker that's stuck in your skull. He might need help 😔

Migraine so bad it hurts to move or even look at a scene. I swear it's pulsating in morse code and trying to tell me something ☹️