seemasaint
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Stiles wakes up in the wrong body in the wrong universe, where: 1. his mother is alive; 2. he apparently has a drug problem; 3. his best friend hates him; and probably most notably 4. he has a penis
Bookmarked by seemasaint
22 Apr 2018
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Peter waits, lets Stiles verbally flail and ramble a bit before cutting him off with a succinct, “Dysphoria.”
Stiles deflates. “Yeah.”
“Stiles, darling, we’ve been through this. I thought we were past it.”
Stiles shifts in an odd horizontal shrug. “Apparently not.”
Bookmarked by seemasaint
22 Apr 2018
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“It’s Mister Stilinski,” Stiles repeats. “That- uh. There’s a mistake. On the paperwork. It’s Mister.” That was all it was. Just a mistake on the paperwork. On the school records and his birth certificate and his social security card. On all the paperwork. But still, just a mistake. That’s what his therapists said. His cells had made a little mistake but it isn’t disgusting or wrong or sick. He isn’t a mistake. Just the papers. His body.
Bookmarked by seemasaint
22 Apr 2018
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Written for the TWKM: Stiles needs to smell like he's having sex with Scott because SERIOUS REASONS and they decide that a facial is the least awkward way to accomplish that, except they're both way more into it than they expected and things keep escalating. Like, Scott has no idea how this got from 'werewolf-awkwardly-masturbating-several-feet-away' to Stiles telling him, "Maybe. . . Maybe you should rub your dick against my face a little. You know. To make sure I smell believable."
". . .Yeah," Scott pants. "Yeah, that makes sense."
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Bookmarked by seemasaint
21 Apr 2018
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“How do you feel?” Derek asks, voice rough and very close.
“Heavy,” Stiles finally answers. Because that’s what he feels. Like his bones are weighting him to the soft bed beneath him, like he’s an anchor sinking deep into silt and water. “Am I high?”
Bookmarked by seemasaint
21 Apr 2018