HIS POUT IN THE SECOND ONE? I CAN'T. THIS IS GOLD. ABSOLUTE PERFECTION 💜

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.

Thank you for your support! I adore you, gorgeous ☺️

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 💜

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.

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.

So I recently dipped back into my teen wolf hyper fixation because I like how Dylan Obrien acts and stiles stalinski as a character, and I was on ao3 and I filtered out all the stuff I didn't want and

Why is stiles shipped with grown men so often?

I don't understand why it happens so often. Not even just him and Derek, but him and Peter, Chris argent, Gerard argent, the crazy alpha werewolf from the crazy alpha werewolf pack, various grown men from other works because it even happens to him in crossover pics.

What is it about this 17 year old boy that screams grown men desire me carnally

It's not even just for angst, like him being captured and something deeply unfortunate happens while some deranged grown man has him locked in his basement, but as just a normal part of the fic

And some people will try to justify it with and they didn't fuck until stiles was 18 like that isn't an excuse real life groomers use.

Anyway, I just wanted to ask cause I wasn't going to go into some random sterek fic and start asking why pedophile ships are somehow the most popular ones in the teen wolf Fandom!

How's everyone else's day going

HAHA! You're so right, I'm on the verge of drooling...

That bicep though...

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 :)

Amen to that! 🤭

Can totally picture stiles gf having a special bra strap that she solely uses for binding his wrists, while he writhes underneath. But doesn’t dare attempt releasing himself from fear that he wouldn’t be able to survive the punishment of waiting even longer before you touch him. Or finally letting him touch you.

(Would anyone want any more of this?)

Dylan, Tony and Rachael walking in NYC via deuxmoi

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”.