i have come to the conclusion that the buttons are never going to go away. i think that's okay. that's what surviving means - you get left with buttons. the buttons saved you.
Buttons are a scar. They can be thick and shiny, raised so they're visible at first glance. They can be slender, pale as the underside of your arm and invisible if you don't touch exactly the right way. They're still scars, though, and accepting them, learning how to move with them, is how you know you've won. How you've beaten whatever it is that caused the scars in the first place.
Besides, who doesn't love a good train wreck? Atlanta is, sadly, a damn impressive one.
Also, ages and ages ago you asked me for a sterek a/b/o fic that I have been playing with in my mind for EVER but I cannot seem to write.
I will one day. Maybe. If I find my brain.
I want to, at least? Because I have this idea of both of them sort of subtly taking care of the other. But where Derek has stopped ordering and will just do, mute with his eyes downcast, offering up something to eat that Stiles didn't ask for, the blanket he'd been idly thinking about but hadn't wanted to move to retrieve- flip that with Stiles scoffing at the state of Derek's clothes and telling him to go use his washer for fuck's sake, you look like a homeless person and then later he starts actually pushing Derek physically because he can take it- werewolf, duh- and because Derek just melts into it (except when he pushes back, but Stiles finds he sort of likes that, too) letting Stiles shove him down to the living room so they can veg on tv because his dad is out and he doesn't feel like doing anything or being in his room any longer, or maybe go to
( ... )
Im pretty sure my request was actually for omega!Derek with breeding kin so yeah lol i agree on that part and ngh wanttttt. cultural collaring instead of marriages isnt something i'm opposed to either just saying. *cough* glad you didnt forget it! lol Im around on gchat or skype if you ever want to talk (my skype name is the same as this and my gchat is ellidyay at gmail)
The point is Stiles slowly discovering that he's not the beta he always thought but an alpha. And that Derek, for all he growled out I'm the alpha now isn't at all, that he's not even a beta. He's the guy who is happiest when he slides to his knees next to Stiles while he's working, canting his head so that he can feel rough denim and hard muscle warm against his cheek, letting Stiles card through his hair or run trimmed nails down his neck or shoulders when he doesn't need to type that moment. He's the guy who dreams about sucking Stiles' cock for hours, just holding it hard and thick in his mouth while Stiles does something- anything- else
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Buttons are a scar. They can be thick and shiny, raised so they're visible at first glance. They can be slender, pale as the underside of your arm and invisible if you don't touch exactly the right way. They're still scars, though, and accepting them, learning how to move with them, is how you know you've won. How you've beaten whatever it is that caused the scars in the first place.
Besides, who doesn't love a good train wreck? Atlanta is, sadly, a damn impressive one.
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I will one day. Maybe. If I find my brain.
I want to, at least? Because I have this idea of both of them sort of subtly taking care of the other. But where Derek has stopped ordering and will just do, mute with his eyes downcast, offering up something to eat that Stiles didn't ask for, the blanket he'd been idly thinking about but hadn't wanted to move to retrieve- flip that with Stiles scoffing at the state of Derek's clothes and telling him to go use his washer for fuck's sake, you look like a homeless person and then later he starts actually pushing Derek physically because he can take it- werewolf, duh- and because Derek just melts into it (except when he pushes back, but Stiles finds he sort of likes that, too) letting Stiles shove him down to the living room so they can veg on tv because his dad is out and he doesn't feel like doing anything or being in his room any longer, or maybe go to ( ... )
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The point is Stiles slowly discovering that he's not the beta he always thought but an alpha. And that Derek, for all he growled out I'm the alpha now isn't at all, that he's not even a beta. He's the guy who is happiest when he slides to his knees next to Stiles while he's working, canting his head so that he can feel rough denim and hard muscle warm against his cheek, letting Stiles card through his hair or run trimmed nails down his neck or shoulders when he doesn't need to type that moment. He's the guy who dreams about sucking Stiles' cock for hours, just holding it hard and thick in his mouth while Stiles does something- anything- else ( ... )
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Unless you write more. In which case I'll come out to get it then go back to my bunk.
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