No, it’s fine. I didn’t need my heart.
Are we crying about a doodle of dinosaurs?
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Oh god it hurts why would you ever
The meteor was coming.
Oh, God, it was coming and she didn’t know what to do. Her son, her beautiful little son, pressed close to her side, craning his neck to look up at his Mother.
“Mummy, why is everyone moving? There’s plenty of food here.” He asked in his sweet, innocent voice.
“Because, my sweet, sometimes it is best that we move on. It is our way.” She replied, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.
“Oh,” Her son said, turning his gaze to the fiery rock in the sky that would spell their deaths out for them, “the old Triceratops told me it was cuzza that rock. He said the rock could hurt us real bad.” He continued, not understanding what he meant by those words in his innocence.
“Triceratops is being silly, he just wanted to tease you one more time before he left.” She lied, choking on her tears. Oh, God, he son, her lovely son, was going to die not understanding.
She turned her face to the meteor- it was close now. It wouldn’t be long. Swinging her head around, she dropped her face to her sons and nuzzled him one last time. “Let’s play a game, yes? And then we’ll go join the others.” She suggested.
“Okay! What game shall we play, Mummy?”
“Let’s play pretend. We will imagine the sort of place we would like to move to, and when we open our eyes, that’s where we shall be.”
“How do we play?”
One last look at the meteor- it was almost time.
“Close your eyes and imagine the place, and count to thirty out loud. Just like when we play Hide-and-Seek.” She curled herself around her son, both of them now laid on the beach.
“Ok, Mummy. 1, 2, 3, 4…”
She watched the meteor approach with sad eyes, and just before it hit land she turned her head, laying it and her neck over her son and bracing herself.
Her son had not yet said 30, but it was over.
what is wrong with you
WOW THANKS FOR SHITTING ALL OVER MY HEART
you go sit in a corner and think about what you said
Derek hears laboured breaths and thinks things are about to get awkward. But no sexy time; just Stiles strangling himself in his sleep. Wait…
I imagine Stiles waking up with marks or not in his room, feet all torn up from sleep walking somewhere.
Also, Papa S - he knows about all this stuff now and this is a result of trying to save him.
Imagine him hearing a crash in the middle of the night dashing down the stairs to find Stiles standing in the middle of shattered glass, muttering in his sleep in what seems to be gibberish.
Hearing the crunch of glass and realising Stiles wasn’t even feeling it. So he’d have to pull him out of there.
Scott calls the next day, sees bloody footprints going across the carpet. He’s about to freak the hell out when a sleepy Stiles wanders in
"Oh. Hey, Scott."
What if it got so bad they had to restrain him at night. The sheriff would be completely against it. But ever logical Stiles would be like; ‘makes sense, dad…’
But then if something were to attack at night and Stiles was defenseless.
Maybe something of that ilk happens and it results in Derek hanging around at night to protect him. He ends up sleeping there, Sheriff gets a fold out cot for him until they find a solution.
Long Distance AU (part one): Derek and Stiles have been dating for five months before Derek decides to leave Beacon Hills, and Stiles understands, he does, understands why Derek would need a break from a town filled with fire and ash and guilt buried six-years deep. Derek makes Stiles promise to call whenever he starts to feel panicky or when the darkness tries to creep back into his mind (even if it’s three in the morning, Stiles, I mean it) and Stiles makes sure that Derek will keep his word to text Stiles whenever he starts going down that mental road of thinking that he’s not worth saving (don’t you dare give up on yourself, Derek, I swear to god-) and it’s good, it works. Early morning Hello’s and late night skype chats that end when Stiles ultimately tires out and falls asleep with his face smushed into his pillow, Derek lingering a little while longer just to watch Stiles’ face go slack with sleep, cheeks flushed and lips parted, listens to the soft even breathing through the tinny speakers.
Stiles leaves video recordings for Derek sometimes when Derek messes up the time schedules and doesn’t show.
It’s been seven months of Derek living in New York. Sometimes he thinks that he’s just waiting around for an excuse to return, because god I miss you, Stiles, sounds too pathetic of a reason when spoken aloud.