In the loft, a late-night game of compliments spirals out of control when Stiles demands Derek say something he likes about his body. What starts as a simple, awkward observation quickly turns into chaos when Erica turns it suggestive, Isaac and Boyd pile on, and River quietly documents it all. Between teasing, accidental honesty, and growing tension between Stiles and Derek, the pack ends up exposing far more than just opinions on legs and hair. In the end, what looks like nonsense is really just their strange, unspoken way of understanding each other and Derek, despite himself, doesn’t walk away.
During a lazy afternoon at the loft, Erica and Stiles finally ask the question they've both been wondering for months: how do Isaac and River make their relationship work when River is ace-spec and Isaac is a very affectionate werewolf? What starts as teasing curiosity turns into an honest conversation about trust, boundaries, attraction, and communication. As River and Isaac explain their relationship, their friends discover that love doesn't have to follow the same script for everyone and that some of the strongest relationships are built on patience, respect, and letting each person move at their own pace. 🖤🤍💜
A sudden rainstorm crashes into Beacon Hills' Pride Art Festival, creating three very different love stories beneath the same storm.
Isaac & River: As a half-selkie, River thrives in the rain, feeling more alive than ever. While everyone else runs for cover, River embraces the downpour, and Isaac can't help but admire them. The rain leads to a passionate kiss and a reminder that Isaac loves every wild, beautiful part of who River is.
Derek & Stiles: Stiles spends the entire storm complaining about being soaked while Derek patiently deals with him in classic Hale fashion. Taking shelter beneath a tent, Derek reassures him with quiet affection, teasing, and subtle compliments until Stiles finally admits the rain isn't so bad, as long as Derek is beside him.
Peter, Chris & Noah: Peter strips off his shirt and treats the rainstorm like he's a dramatic weather god sent to bless Pride personally. While Chris is thoroughly exasperated and Noah endlessly amused, Peter flirts with strangers, makes shameless innuendos, and generally causes chaos. Beneath the teasing, however, is a genuine reminder of how much the three men love one another.
When the storm finally passes, a brilliant rainbow appears over the festival. The couples reunite with kisses, laughter, and affection. River and Isaac sharing a quiet moment, Derek and Stiles finding comfort in each other, and Peter, Chris, and Noah proving once again that their love is equal parts devotion, humor, and absolute chaos. Together they celebrate Pride beneath the rainbow, surrounded by friends, family, and the people they love most. 🌈❤️
What starts as a normal day at Beacon Hills High rapidly derails when Coach Bobby Finstock has a spiritual awakening in front of a mirror and decides the world needs to know one crucial truth: he is, in his own words, a hot piece of ass. From the faculty lounge to the lacrosse field to an ill-advised parent meeting, Finstock weaponizes self-confidence like a loaded whistle, leaving emotional destruction in his wake.
Scott McCall sighs his way through damage control as co-coach, Stiles Stilinski steadily loses his will to live as assistant, and Isaac Lahey, school counselor and Finstock’s assistant questions every career choice he’s ever made. Meanwhile, River Ronan gleefully encourages the chaos, treating the whole ordeal like accidental performance art. Against all logic, the lacrosse team starts winning, morale improves, and Beacon Hills is forced to confront a terrifying possibility: Finstock’s madness might actually be working.
As River opens up to Isaac about growing up as a half-selkie, they recall the day their ocean-minded mother and adaptable father helped them find the language that finally fit: non-binary, and they/them.
A peaceful evening on the lake takes an unexpected turn when Isaac accidentally marks River during a heated make-out session. Horrified by what he's done, Isaac scrambles to explain werewolf marking while River finds the whole situation far more amusing than alarming. As they talk, River learns that the mark isn't about ownership, but about Isaac's wolf recognizing them as their person. The conversation becomes a sweet exploration of love, belonging, and chosen family, ending with the realization that while Isaac's wolf may have chosen River that day, River had already chosen Isaac long ago. ❤️🐺🌊
When Isaac discovers River modeling nude for an art class, it cracks open something raw and possessive inside him. He storms, he growls, and then after a heart-to-heart with an unexpected source, he listens. River meets Isaac’s anger with calm understanding and vulnerability of their own, letting Isaac see them in a way no one does. Touch becomes trust, restraint becomes devotion, and love finally finds its voice.
River was sprawled on their stomach on the floor, legs bent at the knees and feet lazily kicking back and forth in the air. Their fingertips were stained faintly with blue and green, remnants of the earlier painting session that now lay drying on the easel by the window. A gentle breeze filtered through the screen, ruffling their messy brown hair. Isaac was sitting nearby on the couch, flipping through a book he wasn’t really reading. He’d been caught more than once watching them instead, tracing the curve of River’s jaw with his eyes, the way the light caught on their tattoos, the relaxed way they existed when they weren’t teaching or defending their need for nuance.
River had been quiet for the last few minutes, clearly stewing on something. That usually meant one of two things: either they were about to say something insightful and philosophical… or something that made Isaac question everything he thought he knew about conversation.
They looked up suddenly, resting their chin on their paint-splattered hand.
"Hey, Isaac?"
He hummed, eyes still on the book, but his attention already shifting toward them.
"If I was a worm… would you still like me?"
Isaac blinked. Slowly lowered the book.
"I’m sorry. What?"
River tilted their head, entirely unbothered by how ridiculous the question might’ve sounded. "A worm. You know, a slimy, wiggly, no arms, no voice. Just a worm. Would you still like me?"
Isaac stared.
River’s expression didn’t change.
He blinked again. “Are you—what kind of worm are we talking about here?”
River’s mouth twitched. “A regular earthworm. Not the sandworm from Dune. Though honestly, that would be cooler.”
Isaac set the book down. “So, you want to know if I would still like you if you turned into a slimy, dirt-eating, blind, voiceless tube?”
“Basically.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Isaac laughed, that low, amused huff that River liked best. He ran a hand through his slight curls, sitting forward on the couch to rest his elbows on his knees. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’ve had three cups of coffee and very little adult interaction this weekend,” River said cheerfully. “Answer the question, Lahey.”
Isaac gave them a long look. “Alright. Fine.” He shifted, clearly thinking it through more than the question deserved. “Do I know you’re you? Like, are you just a worm I find in the driveway or are you a worm with…like River brain?”
River’s smiled. “Yes! I’m a worm, but I still have my mind. Just… no mouth. Or arms. Or legs. Or way to communicate.”
“So, you’re you, but not physically you.”
“Exactly.”
Isaac stood, walking over and crouching beside them on the floor, his expression thoughtful.
“Well. I couldn’t exactly take you out for coffee or talk about your weird art theories if you were a worm.”
“You could bring me in your pocket,” River offered. “Feed me compost. Let me watch Netflix with you from a jar.”
Isaac smirked. “You think I’m carrying a worm around in my pocket like some kind of emotionally bonded Disney princess?”
River wiggled their eyebrows. “You already let me live rent-free in your head. A jar isn’t much different.”
That pulled a real laugh out of him. Isaac ducked his head a little, his smile softening as he reached out, idly brushing a bit of dry paint off River’s temple with his thumb.
“I think,” he said slowly, “if you turned into a worm… and I knew it was you… yeah. I’d still like you.”
River grinned.
“I’d keep you in a nice terrarium. Name it something classy. Probably let you listen to jazz on Sunday mornings. Maybe even find you a worm companion so you don’t get bored of me.”
River burst out laughing, burying their face in their arms. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You started it!” Isaac protested. Then, after a beat, quieter: “But I would. Like you. Even if you were… well, a worm.”
River peeked up at him, smile lopsided. “That’s either very sweet or very disturbing.”
Isaac shrugged. “Probably both. But hey, this is Beacon Hills. Stranger things have happened.”
There was a comfortable silence between them, one River didn’t feel the need to fill. It was one of the things they liked best about Isaac, he didn’t mind the quiet. Didn’t try to dissect or fix them. He just… stayed. And for someone like River, who lived between the lines of a lot of definitions, that meant something.
Isaac reached for their hand, the one not totally covered in paint. “So, what brought this on? Existential worm crisis?”
River smirked. “A kid in my second-period class asked me today. Then he told me worms are the ultimate gender-neutral creature and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Isaac snorted. “You would take that to heart.”
“Wormcore is valid,” River said proudly.
Isaac kissed their knuckles, paint and all. “Well, valid or not, you’re not turning into a worm on my watch.”
“Deal. But if I ever do… promise me you’ll give me a name like Sir Wiggles.”
