do you ever think about after Stiles’ mom died, when he was sad and couldn’t stop crying and wanted to scream at the world, that maybe his best friend wiped away his tears and took his hand and said, “it’s okay, we can share my mom.” not because Scott thought Stiles needed a replacement, but because he knew that his mom was good at making him happy when he was sad, and he just wanted Stiles to be happy again.
alex, my love, serious question. what breaks you quicker? bb scott mccall in feetie pjs with little ducks on? or slightly older bb scott mccall with an oversized helmet on, learning to ride his big boy bike? just curious
FEETIE PAJAMAS. Lil Scott rubbing his sleepy eyes, looking for his stuffed wolf everywhere after his bath, little chin set stubbornly because he won’t go to bed without it. Of course, Stiles is clutching it tightly to his chest in his little nest of blankets on Scott’s floor.
“I want to sleep with it tonight! You get it every night.”
I'm really craving some angsty Sciles being upset and maybe a panic attack or something idk im just in an angsty mood. Help me out Carrie! <3
The first time Scott feels his throat constrict, he’s seven years old and has just been knocked to the ground in a rowdy game of tag. The sharp jolt of pain to his elbow startles him, and suddenly he can’t breathe. He’s trying to draw breath, heart pounding rapidly, trying to push himself off the grass, but he feels dizzy, flopping to the ground—
Bright brown eyes blink at him in concern. “Scott? SCOTT! Are you okay?”
Scott shakes his head at Stiles, tears welling up in his eyes, chest heaving, and he points to his throat. Immediately Stiles understands, and he starts yelling for the teacher.
"I’m gonna kick Jackson’s butt," Stiles says solemnly, lacing his chubby fingers with Scott’s in a promise.
He talks to Scott while the clueless teacher on the playground clumsily tries to administer first aid. It’s more Stiles’ voice, calmly talking about how they were gonna have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches this afternoon, and the slow and methodical way he explains how he’s gonna steal all of Jackson’s cookies, that brings Scott back, the feeling of his hand in his own, and Scott is able to breathe again.
When his mom arrives at school to pick Scott up and take him to a doctor, Stiles kicks and screams when Mrs. Millstone tells him to go back to class, only stopping when he’s allowed to accompany Scott to the hospital.
It turns out Scott has asthma, and he’s nervous about it when the doctor tells him gently, and then starts telling his mom all these scary-sounding things. It’s okay, though, he gets a cherry lollipop and the doctor even gives him an extra one when he asks for one. “It’s for my best friend,” Scott tries to explain. “He saved my life,” Scott says seriously, and the doctor just ruffles his hair.
Stiles takes his asthma very seriously, and he demands to be taught the correct way to use the inhaler, even asking Scott’s mom for one of his own.
"Stiles, I really don’t think—" Melissa says, sighing.
"What if Scott forgets his? Huh? Huh?"
Stiles gets his own inhaler.
A few years later, the first time Stiles gets a panic attack, Scott knows what to do. He knows it’s not the same, but he holds Stiles’ hand and guides him through the same breathing exercises he uses, and finally Stiles calms down
"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you," Scott says, squeezing his hand.
"Thanks," Stiles breathes. "And you know I--"
He doesn't need to say it. Scott just smiles, and automatically says, "Yeah."
can you do a fic where stiles and scott get deaged? i don't care about anything else in it, just have that. and only if you're comfortable doing it, and if you have time. thank you babe!
Melissa takes one look at the two toddlers and her heart immediately seizes up. Scott waddles towards her, the t-shirt too big on him, still holding Stiles' chubby hand in his own. "Mommy!" Scott says happily, arms open wide for a hug.
"What happened?" Melissa asks, automatically picking them up in her arms. They're all soft and round, like they just stepped right out of her memories, Scott looking all of three years old and missing his two front teeth.
Derek frowns, looking at the two babies awkwardly. "Spell went wrong, but I need to catch up with the witches. I think Lydia found out where they are. Are you going to be okay like this for a little bit?"
Melissa bounces the boys on her hip, blinking back a tear. "I'll be fine, Derek," she says. Derek nods and leaves in a hurry, and Melissa sighs when Scott curls up against her neck and Stiles places a sloppy kiss on her cheek. They're so young and unmarred by everything like this. She kind of guiltily wants them not to find the witches for awhile, just so they can have a break from all the things they've been through.
"C'n Stiles stay for naptime?" Scott asks.
"Of course," Melissa says, carrying them upstairs.
"Naptime," Stiles says sleepily.
She tucks them into Scott's bed, and they curl up in the blankets, happy little smiles on their faces, holding hands like they're otters, afraid they'll drift apart in their sleep.
