Stiles Being Upset And In Need For A Hug For @takaraphoenix

Yes! He deserves all the love. And so do you! 💜

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.

Write

Write one about stiles please, could be a imagine or a blurb, or smutt... 🫣 Anything, please babyyy🤗

Note: Thank you for the support! I have no idea if I'll ever write real, hardcore smut, but I guess we'll see... However, I did write something random and a little fluffy. I hope you like it :)

Break-In

Word count: 530

It was late when Stiles tumbled through his girlfriend's bedroom window with a thud as his lanky body hit the ground, abruptly waking her up. She quickly sat up and looked around with confusion, until his head popped up into her view.

Groggily, she questioned him and his ungraceful actions, "Stiles? What are you doing here? And what time is it? And can you not be so loud?"

He simply sighed and rolled his eyes as he crawled onto her bed, speaking with extreme sarcasm, "Oh, I woke the beast. Fucking fabulous."

"Excuse me?" Her tired eyes narrowed at him and he conjured a not-so-genuine smile. Seeing through it, she spoke bluntly, "Stiles, why are you here?"

His smile quickly faded, leaving him with a pout, "I miss you..."

She looked at him for a moment, searching his eyes for any hidden intentions. "Physically or emotionally?" she asked, with caution.

The question threw him off-guard, and he responded warily, "Why are those my only options?"

"Because you're acting suspicious," she stated bluntly.

He stared at her with incredulity, "Missing my girlfriend is suspicious?"

"I suppose not, but breaking into her house could be considered highly suspicious"

Stiles shrugged as he spoke, "Yeah, but I break into your house all the time. This is just normal behavior for me."

She looked down and nodded slowly in hesitant agreement, "True... So, what do you want?" Her eyes met his again, still filled with suspicion.

"Can you just trust me when I say that I honestly and sincerely miss you?" Stiles was getting tired of the interrogation, and desperate for the comfort he went there for. Although, he recognized that her tone was similar to one he'd used countless of times, and deep down, he felt a small sense of pride to know that his attributes rubbed off on her.

"Well, that brings us back to my first question: physically or emotionally?" she said, keeping her chin up, despite how groggy she still was from being woken up less than five minutes ago.

He couldn't believe that all this bickering led them absolutely nowhere, and his light frustration showed in his voice, "I-... Both!? Just..." He sighed before continuing with a softer tone, "Relax, and let me hug you."

Her expression dulled and she nodded, feeling a yawn catch up to her. Relieved by her compliance, Stiles scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. His familiar comfort consumed her as she breathed him in, and they slowly leaned back onto her bed, his body laying on top of her's. Feeling her hands move up and down his back and her lips planting a kiss to his hair brought a smile to his face. He lifted his head just enough to gently and slowly kiss her.

"For the record, I missed you too," she said quietly, unable to hide the smile she had, matching his.

A faintly smug look appeared on his face. "I knew it," he remarked, before closing his eyes to kiss her again.

It didn't take long for the cuddled couple to peacefully fall asleep, sharing each other's warmth and love after such a silly and meaningless debate.

The talent here is blowing my mind-

Dylan drawing :)

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.

Hi! Thank you for being a huge inspiration. I am trying to be a writer too, but I can't stop checking for notifications every couple of minutes to see if people like what I've written. Any advice on not thinking about the results and not caring about the gratification? 💜

Hi, nonnie! It means the world that I've been able to inspire you in some capacity. I know it's difficult to not check notifications or look at note count. And let me preface this by saying that it's more than okay to want feedback. Every now and then I see negativity come out to play when writers/artists/gif makers/creators say that they want feedback for the creations they worked hard on.

Some things I do at times:

I congratulate myself for my accomplishment. Writing is hard. 50, 5k, 50k, it should be celebrated.

Log out of the app/desktop completely helps to not look. Out of sight, out of mind, so to speak.

I remind myself that my writing worth isn't tied to my note count.

Comparison is the thief of joy. The second I start to compare my writing/word count or anything to others, I step away.

I remember that my feelings are valid. I'm allowed to feel down if feedback is low, but I do not allow myself to say in the headspace.

I sometimes go back to other fics of mine and reread feedback. Past positive affirmations give me a boost now and again.

NEW FOR 2025 - I want to put my energy back out there. If I post something new, I want to reblog a fic from someone else. Focusing my energy on others in a positive way shifts the negative feelings swirling around inside me.

Lovelies, please feel free to jump in and add more. Nonnie, sending you all the good vibes. Love and thanks! ❤️

Tumblr... Please. Just stop. Please. Why are you doing this? What is going on? Do you need medical attention or something? Take a fucking breath and relax, oh my gosh.

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.  

Stiles: *guesses character is evil in episode 1*

Eveyone else: Naaah

Character: *is evil*

Everyone else:

Stiles: AND THIS IS WHY WE ALWAYS LISTEN TO STILES!!!

hee hee hee my hottie

I suddenly wish I was a snorkel...