The Recoil

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?

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”.

Ok so when you said that you were throwing a brick, I didn't realize it was at my fucking heart! What the hell was that? Why must you always make me so emotional 😔

TRUTHS || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Stiles in the golden retriever, the guy who's always there for you, the one who'd do anything and everything for you. But no one's perfect, and you don't expect him to be, it just takes you some time to see Stiles' truth.

Memo— Sorry not sorry that I'm throwing this brick at you

Word Count — 967

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

You always thought Stiles was the good one. Not in the perfect way, not in the "straight-A student, never-does-anything-wrong" way, but in the genuine, loyal, heart-of-gold way. The guy who’d trip over himself to help a stranger, who’d give you the last piece of pizza without a second thought, who’d stay up all night researching monsters so no one else had to. And for a long time, you saw him like that—this jittery, awkward, deeply lovable hurricane of a person, always doing, always caring, always there.

And he is all that. With you? He’s golden. With Scott? He’s fiercely, stubbornly, stupidly devoted. With his dad? He’s still that kid trying to hold the world together with duct tape and caffeine so it doesn’t crush the only parent he has left.

He remembers things about you—tiny things you didn’t even think you remembered telling him. You’ll mention you had a rough day once, and three weeks later he’s showing up with your favourite snack and a dumb movie queued up because “I figured the vibes were off, and I hate when the vibes are off.” He’ll drive to your house just to sit in silence when you don’t feel like talking. He buys your favourite pens when you lose them, makes playlists for your moods, sets reminders to check in on things that matter to you. It’s not just that he’s nice—it’s that he’s invested.

With Scott, it’s a kind of brotherhood that’s almost religious. He’ll talk shit, yeah, but the second anyone else does? He’s up. Instantly. Doesn’t matter if it’s someone stronger, bigger, more dangerous—Stiles has already calculated the fallout and decided it’s worth it. He’ll complain the whole time, but he’ll never back down if Scott needs him. Even when Scott doesn’t say it out loud. Especially then.

With his dad, it’s this complicated mix of reverence and protectiveness. He pushes boundaries, sure, but there’s always a line he won’t cross. He teases and rolls his eyes, but you’ve seen the way he watches the sheriff’s face when he walks into a room, always scanning for stress, exhaustion, signs of something off. He cooks dinner when his dad works late. He cleans the house on autopilot without being asked. He never says it, but he carries that family like it’s his personal mission to keep it afloat.

But the thing is… once you’re close enough to really know him—past the surface, past the quick wit and loyalty—you start to see the edges. The parts no one really talks about.

Stiles is not actually nice. Not to most people. He’s polite when he needs to be, friendly when it serves a purpose, but if you’re not in his circle? If you’re not one of his people? He doesn't care. At all.

He doesn’t make small talk. He doesn’t go out of his way to help unless someone he loves is involved. You’ve seen him ignore people mid-sentence because they were boring him. He gets impatient fast, and once he decides someone’s not worth his energy, he doesn’t even try to hide it.

He’s not mean in the obvious, stereotypical way. It’s subtle. Calculated. He knows how to cut people down without raising his voice. He uses sarcasm like a scalpel, and if someone’s unlucky enough to get on his bad side, he doesn’t yell—he eviscerates.

One time, a classmate made a shitty comment about Scott’s mom. Stiles didn’t lash out. Didn’t even react at first. Just filed it away. And two days later, he dropped a series of comments in a group setting so casually devastating that the kid left school early and didn’t show up the next day. Stiles didn’t even blink. “Shouldn’t talk shit if you’re made of glass,” he muttered, like it was nothing.

And when people call him out? He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t apologize. Just shrugs and moves on. It’s like he doesn’t feel the need to justify being cold to people who aren’t inside his carefully constructed world.

And maybe you should care about that. Maybe you should find it concerning. But you don’t.

Because you’ve never been on the receiving end of it. Never once.

When you’re sad, he’s gentle. When you’re angry, he lets you rage. When you’re happy, he celebrates you, like your joy is a personal victory. He touches you in these thoughtless, casual ways that are so full of care—fingers brushing yours when he passes you something, knees bumping under the table, an arm slung lazily across your shoulders like he’s grounding himself by just being near you.

You’ve seen him lose sleep over you being sick. Seen him unravel when you cried. Seen him light up when you walked into a room like the world had just snapped back into colour.

He tells you things he doesn’t tell anyone else. Fears. Regrets. Doubts. There’s a soft version of Stiles that lives only in your presence, one who trusts you enough to be quiet, who lets himself need.

And you think—that’s the real difference. Stiles doesn’t trust easy. He’s not generous with his softness. The world has taken too much from him too many times, and now? He doesn’t give pieces of himself to people who won’t hold them carefully.

But for the ones he loves—for you, for Scott, for his dad—he gives everything.

So yeah. He’s kind of a mean guy. Kind of petty. Sharp-tongued. Impatient. Defensive.

But he’s also the guy who would crawl through hell if it meant dragging you out of it. Who shows up even when he’s exhausted. Who notices everything, remembers everything, loves with the kind of intensity that’s messy and complicated and real.

He’s not perfect. Not even close.

But you never needed perfect.

You just needed him.

Dylan, Tony and Rachael walking in NYC via deuxmoi

Update: I got a little bit done! Not as much as I wanted to and not for the project I probably should have been working on, but oh well. Progress is progress.

I thought I was going to write today, but then I passed out, landed on my nightstand, and injured my back, so... I don't think that's happening anymore.

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.

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. 💜

BAHAHA same though-

THE GRAY HAIRS? HIS HAND? OH MY GOSH?

I don't have time to write an entire drabble or whatever, but please, in honor of Christmas Eve, just think for a moment about Stiles frantically wrapping presents and making an absolute mess.

Imagine it's late, almost midnight, and he completely forgot to wrap the gifts he bought. He's huffing and puffing, shoving the paper over the boxes and other strangely shaped items, and smashing a ridiculous amount of tape on every corner and crevice. It's a shit show, but he needs to get it done.

In the middle of this chaos, his girlfriend calls him to wish him a good night and whatnot, and she can hear his rushed frustration and trouble with making his two lanky hands work the way he wants them to. She asks him if he's ok and what the hell is he doing?

He brushes her off and simply tells her that he forgot to do something important, yet again. She easily guesses the task at hand, thanks to all the noise he's making, and offers to come over and help him.

He quickly shuts her down in a slight panic, telling her that she absolutely cannot come over. She then pesters him about why he's so against the prospect, and eventually he caves: most of the presents are for her.

Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates and happy holidays to all! I hope everyone has a lovely day and good luck to those who are struggling! 💜

Some girls just need to be held.