The pack all hangin’ one day, like they do, and someone bought one of those ‘friendship bracelet’ kits for ages 8+.
When the box is opened, Stiles spots the bright blue beads that remind him of Derek’s eyes. When another bag is popped open and Stiles sees the moon pendant he calls dibs loudly and snatches it off the floor.
Derek is probably on the other side of the house reading and pretending like having them all over doesn’t thrill him. After they’re finished there’s pizza and a movie and video games and a wrestling match and mostly everyone forgets about the bracelets until the end of the night.
They’re all shuffling out the door when Stiles goes over to where Derek has resumed reading and tugs the book out of his hand rudely. Derek reprimands him but Stiles is holding out his bracelet, dangling between two fingers.
“I made you a friendship bracelet,” Stiles tells him. He’s pretty proud of it.
Derek just stares at it, taken aback, even as he reaches out and takes it from Stiles. Stiles just laughs at him, “you don’t have to wear it, or anything,” Stiles assures him, and then without another word he sort of flounces off after the others.
Stiles doesn’t actually expect Derek to do more than wait until Stiles is gone before tossing them bracelet. But, then a few days later when Derek reaches for something and his sleeve slides down Stiles sees the bracelet secure around his wrist.
Stiles beams for days. Thinks he might have to reconsider the friendship part of the bracelet.
Meanwhile, Derek is probably unsure whether this was a friendly friendship bracelet or if this was a gift from a potential suitor. Was Stiles wooing him?
Derek did not know what to do. Cora was only mildly sympathetic.
“What do you want it to mean? She asks.
“I don’t know.”
Do you want him to be wooing you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if I told you it mean’t nothing?” Cora asks. Derek’s head snaps up to look at her and he asks,
“Why did he tell you something?”
And Cora laughs in his face and says, “No. But now we know how thirsty you are for Stilinski, you’re an embarrassment to the Hale name,” Cora informs him.
She’s probably not wrong about both of it.
Long story short: Stiles and Derek lowkey trying to woo each other while having no idea they are being lowkey wooed.
my friend’s very young daughter is apparently a huge nerd and asked for a “Spock-themed birthday party”
She’s 3 going to be 4 and she demands a Spock themed party that only @souryellows is invited to.
The other day she got up in another kids face and chanted “we watch Star trek everyday because I love Spock”
when we tried to warn her that the ending of Wrath of Khan would upset her she ran over and yelled ‘Spock won’t die because I love him!’ (he died anyway. she was distraught)
also if you show her a picture of Spock and ask who he is she gets little hearts in her eyes and says dreamily “my boy”
Also uh update she watched the Search for Spock yesterday and is fucking estatic about seeing Spock alive again.
But she now has an imaginary friend. Any guesses.
It’s Spock.
The Spock party was a few months ago but it was grand. She squealed in earsplitting delight when I brought the cake out and made me carry her bridal-style around the house while singing the theme song.
As an update, still having a Spock birthday party in October. And she also got a Spock build a bear a few weeks ago.
You know what, fuck everything, your ship, my ship… Thank you Beyond for letting Uhura kick ass and for letting Spock and Uhura’s relationship really SHINE.
@eternalsterek-broughttolife | AO3 – A back-up gift specifically requested by me, and seeing how everyone was able to get their gifts in, I’m going to gift it to myself haha (especially since this is the sweetest little fic).
Stiles works at a water park, one day he finds a little girl with dark hair and intense eyes crying and has to help her find her family.
The familiar chlorine-sunscreen-warm pavement smell of Riverwood Water Park is a strange comfort as Stiles walks toward the staff locker room; nostalgia and fond memories always rushed through Stiles when he was at the park. The fact that this would–hopefully–be his last summer working there was both sad and exciting.
It wouldn’t be easy saying goodbye to the place he’d visited so often with his mom and dad as a kid, the place where he had worked every summer since he was sixteen. Manning Pirate Cove, a scale model of a pirate ship designed for younger children, with slides where canons would be found and a swirling sprayer that moved with the ship’s wheel, had become his favorite summertime distraction. The enthusiasm and joy that little kids unabashedly threw into splashing each other and climbing and fun made Stiles feel joyous by proxy.
Closing his locker in the staff showers, he allowed himself to feel a little melancholy. Graduating and moving on to grad school that was no closer to his dad or his friends was hard. He’d always half planned on coming back to California, but he’d had to wave adios to that plan when a full scholarship offer came in for a program in Colorado.
It was going to be hard to have say goodbye to his coworkers, too. Some of them had been working with him since he started, and they’d grown up together, one summer at a time. They’d shared cookouts and after work meals, then after work drinks and dancing as they became old enough for it. End of season parties, bonfire hookups, summer flings.
The thought of leaving Erica and Boyd especially filled him with disappointment; they’d been spending their summers together for the last five seasons, and they’d had more than a handful of those s’mores and summer heat-flavored nights. Now, they were the best of friends, speaking often even when Stiles was on the other side of the country and longing for summer and open-skied nights in his adequate but lonely student apartment.
That he would not miss. Even with the personal touches he’d managed to add, a half-sized kitchen, a shower with the water pressure of a jammed squirt gun, and barely enough room for a two-seater couch and a desk with a rolling chair never felt much like home.
Summers at Riverwood, though, that was definitely part of home for him. Permanent chlorine scent, shrieking kids, and all.
What wasn’t normal though, was a crying child. Yet, just inside the gate where he entered Pirate Cove, there was a young girl–around five if Stiles had to guess–rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes, fruitlessly trying to stop the tears spilling from her green and gold eyes. Her long dark hair was escaping from the tight braid she wore, and she clutched at her brightly striped towel like a lifeline.
Stiles pasted on his friendliest, most reassuring smile and stooped down so he was at her eye level. “Hi, sweetheart, my name is Stiles. Is there something that I can help you with? I work here, so if you’re lost, or if something happened that upset you, I can help.”
When she looked up at him, her lip was wobbling and she was taking big, shuddering breaths, but she was obviously trying to get herself to calm down; Stiles was impressed with her control.
“I was pl-playing in the wave pool, an’ then I thought I saw a bunny by the fe-fence, so I went t’ see it, but it was go-one!” she sobbed, getting more upset as she went on. “Then I got lost, and now I can’t find my-my-m-” she started crying again, too much now to finish her sentence, so Stiles put a cautious hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, that is something I can definitely fix,” he said, letting a little enthusiasm into his voice in the hopes that his confidence would reassure her. “Can you tell me your name?”
She sniffed, but gave him a wobbly smile and answered “Tali.”
“Well, Tali,” he said, returning her smile, “Do you think you could hold my hand so we can stick together on the way back to the wave pool?” At her nod, he stood up, and offered his hand. Hers felt so small in his that he had a moment of panic at being responsible for someone so little. Then reality settled over him and his years of experience with kids kicked in as he rolled his eyes at himself.
shealwaysreads 