I really wish ship wars didn’t exist.
Tag: sciles
scottsjuice-deactivated20161004:
How to be a teen wolf’s best friend: A guide by Stiles Stilinski. (a s1 Sciles summary)
‘Why does everyone think we’re dating??? What the he- wait, are we dating?’ Sciles prompt
Stiles has just about been sitting in the booth at the local coffee shop long enough to get fidgety by the time Scott returns, hands laden down with hot drinks and a plate with a pair of muffins precariously perched on them. That’s enough to soothe his restless heart; Stiles perks up, scooting his body to the side as Scott joins him on the same bench in the booth, their elbows rubbing comfortably. “Ohhhhh, apple crunch muffins. Thanks, babe!”
“I didn’t get it for you,” Scott says, his voice mild and distant like he’s been stunned, “It was on the house, from the barista.”
Thoughtfulness washes in and Stiles lifts his eyes to consider the girl behind the counter, evaluating her expression, her appearance, why she might have sent him a free muffin. It distracts him enough to allow Scott to follow up with the equally distant and mild, “She said she’d noticed that my boyfriend really liked them and that he’d looked kind of stressed, lately.”
Stiles chokes on the first bite of caramel-apple-deliciousness.
Just say it. Say it again. Say it differently. Learn how to say it better. Learn how to sing it. Just write it in a poem, or in a letter attached to flowers. Carve it in a tree, in a sidewalk with cement, tattoo it on your arm.
‘Why does everyone think we’re dating??? What the he- wait, are we dating?’ Sciles prompt
Stiles has just about been sitting in the booth at the local coffee shop long enough to get fidgety by the time Scott returns, hands laden down with hot drinks and a plate with a pair of muffins precariously perched on them. That’s enough to soothe his restless heart; Stiles perks up, scooting his body to the side as Scott joins him on the same bench in the booth, their elbows rubbing comfortably. “Ohhhhh, apple crunch muffins. Thanks, babe!”
“I didn’t get it for you,” Scott says, his voice mild and distant like he’s been stunned, “It was on the house, from the barista.”
Thoughtfulness washes in and Stiles lifts his eyes to consider the girl behind the counter, evaluating her expression, her appearance, why she might have sent him a free muffin. It distracts him enough to allow Scott to follow up with the equally distant and mild, “She said she’d noticed that my boyfriend really liked them and that he’d looked kind of stressed, lately.”
Stiles chokes on the first bite of caramel-apple-deliciousness.
Shadow In The Light 