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UNSAID

Sometimes there were moments in your life where things weren’t really left unsaid, but words became surplus to requirement. Stiles had still been recovering from his ordeal with the nogitsune when they suddenly found themselves in Mexico. He was exhausted, he was confused, he was frustrated, and he was overwhelmed.

He sought out Isaac, and instead of saying anything, just pounced on him with a hug so intense it nearly managed to knock his werewolf boyfriend over. He buried his face in Isaac’s shoulder and just stood there holding him for a much-needed timeout on more crap hitting more fans.

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DANCE

Stiles really wasn’t much of a coordinated dancer. He got that off his dad, who had apparently been subjected to dance lessons by Stiles’ mom prior to their wedding so he could at least pull off their first dance without face-planting the floor or crushing her toes.

Now here Stiles was in exactly the same boat, trying to learn how to do the waltz for his own wedding because – apparently – twerking or the sprinkler dance weren’t viable prospect for one’s first dance as a married person. But really, Stiles was sure everyone should be grateful he didn’t want the Timewarp.

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CRAZY

“Crazy” was the only word that could describe what had happened to Derek. There had been friggen movies made about how people got aged regressed. And remakes of the movies made about it. It was one big mindfuck for Stiles, because Derek as a teenager was so different to what he was an adult. Fucked up things had changed him… but now Stiles could see that it was for the better.

Derek had let anger and vengeance change him so much. Seeing the outfall of all of this made Stiles realise he never wanted to fall into the same trap.

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ENOUGH

One week in, Stiles had already had enough of wedding-planning. He thought it was going to be fun, but there was about 80% of things on the list he had no interest in. He was now sitting in a stalemate with his fiancé sitting across from him trying to get him to at least pick a colour theme. Stiles was procrastinating. Stiles was exceptionally talented at procrastinating…

In fact, he only had to look up from the colour samples and give Isaac a wicked smirk to have his other-half pounce on him for something entirely not wedding related at all.

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BATTLE

There was always a constant battle with something. Stiles was beginning to become convinced he would end up with ulcers and heart problems by the time he was 21. Just when they managed to get rid of one force of evil (including his own possession), another cropped up with seeming more intent to cause more death.

He just wanted some days to his feet up, lay around in his underwear watching cult classics, and ploughing down as much sugary junk food as he could get his hands on, because he couldn’t remember the last time he was a normal kid.

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UNCOMFORTABLE

When you’re a kid, breaking a bone was an awesome achievement. You got to have a cool cast everyone could draw all over, and regaling the tale of your war wound to your mates was even better.

But as an adult, a broken ankle was just a pain in the ass. It was uncomfortable, crutches were awkward, and getting laid demanded fast learning of a whole new skill set just to manage to get things where they were supposed to be. Stiles had never been a fan of sitting still, so a medically-induced go-slow for six weeks was a nightmare.

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SPEECHLESS

It wasn’t often that Stiles was rendered speechless, but coming face-to-face with a de-aged Derek definitely managed to make words somewhat surplus to requirement. But then, no one really knew what to say... or do. They had dealt with a lot in their short time as a pack, and subsequently learned a lot, but this was one of those true WTF moments that could never be pre-empted.

And Stiles being Stiles, seeing a younger Derek, he was faced with a peculiar urge to give the new teen a wedgie or a wet-willy as initiation into their world of teen dorkishness.

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MAIL

Stiles sat on the floor of the living-room looking at the small pile of mail nursed in the palm of his hand, mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief. The envelopes were yellowed from age, each one had his name scrawled on the front in his mom’s handwriting.

They were all unopened. All written to him before her death. All unknown to him.

Until now. Until he found them tucked away in a wooden box on a shelf in the basement. Did he want to read what was inside, read the words she penned just for him? He had no idea.

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BURY

Stiles had racked up many hard days in his life, but none really came close to as hard as the day he had to watch them bury his mother. He hadn’t slept in days, and it was the first time he ended up catatonic by the time the casket was lowered into the ground. His dad had to dress him, when people talked to him, it was like his ears were blocked and he couldn’t hear.

Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe she was gone. Sometimes, he didn’t know how he really picked himself up and just kept going on again.

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FALL

Stiles had always been accident-prone. It had been a long-standing joke to everyone he loved since he was old enough to move independently. Whilst it had somewhat decreased the older he got, he still seemed to have the worst luck plague him now and again.

Which was why he was now sat in the busy Beacon Hills Hospital ER waiting-room with an ice pack on his elevated ankle after falling off a ladder painting his and Isaac’s new room to match the flurry of interior decorating going on in the rest of the house. He really hoped it wasn’t broken…

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PARANOID

Maybe he was just paranoid, but Stiles found lately he had this constant knot of apprehension in his gut about something bad happening all over again. Maybe it was simply the knowledge of being caught in this never-ending war against the forces of supernatural evil. He still lay in bed many nights staring up at the dark ceiling and wondering how the hell this had become his life.

This was his purpose. He knew that. He knew as long as there was a danger to the people he loved, the fight would continue to never have an end in sight.

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SAVE

Stiles didn’t know if they were going to be too late to save Isaac and Aengus. The chance that they still could was the only thing stopping him from losing his shit. It was a miracle he wasn’t an emotional wreck. Lydia’s scream had ripped through him like a shard of glass and he was about ready to write himself off as a failure.

But failure meant death, and what would any of this be worth if he lost the love of his life? It wouldn’t be. If he failed this time, he knew he would never recover from it.

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WEATHER

The weather was getting warmer, and it was helping Stiles start to get back on top of himself after everything that had happened. He wouldn’t say he was feeling back to normal yet, but he was ready to welcome the summer and chill out with his friends.

Maybe he could even manage to have days where he went back to feeling like a normal teenager again. And the first stop was going to be filling a condom with water and throwing it at his boyfriend across the backyard. Fitting start to the warmer weather, if he did say so himself.

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HEARTBEAT

Once again, Stiles was torn from a tormented sleep with a hoarse scream. He shot up in bed, trying to pull his wet t-shirt away from his sweat-soaked body, his heartbeat feeling like it was echoing through his whole body, thumping wildly and loudly in his ears.

It was the same nightmare. Isaac lying pale and unmoving in a narrow box, and that was the only detail Stiles could recollect. He had tried not to go to sleep, for fear this would happen again. He was angry at himself for not finding the missing puzzle pieces. Time was running out.

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FASHION

Stiles’ fashion sense was about as fabulous as a Mickey D’s uniform. He frequently caught Lydia giving him a side-eye look like she was calculating how to drug him and kidnap him to the nearest designer outlet by telling him they were holding a Star Wars convention.

Though, he had to admit, he was extremely wary of the myth that if you didn’t buy good supportive underwear, you could become impotent. Maybe it was just a myth, but one could never tempt fate with that particular part of the anatomy, could they? So it was Calvin Klein all the way.

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DÉJÀVU

Déjàvu or history-repeating, Stiles didn’t care what concept to go with, he just wished like hell he wasn’t having to go through another terror-filled time like this. Once again, lives were in the balance and the blood could be on his hands if they were lost.

This time, though, the love of his life had vanished without a trace and Stiles was finding it near-impossible to focus. He wanted to break down, hit something, scream at someone, sit in the corner and pretend none of this was happening. But he couldn’t, he had to keep going. There was no choice.

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MARRIAGE

For Stiles, marriage had always just been something he might do in the future. He never gave it any distinct thought. It was on his sabbatical to Ireland with Lydia and Aengus that he found himself doing some deep soul-searching.

“In the future” was now here, and he wanted to get married, even think about starting a family of his own down the track. He didn’t know if Isaac would ultimately say yes to his proposal, but Stiles knew in his heart it was right and he knew it was the right time. Love really did work in mysterious ways.

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AWKWARD

Stiles decided that there was no bigger awkward moment in the history of ever that was awkward as not only walking in on your dad snogging your best friend’s mom, but also discovering they did a lot more than just make out.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the notion of his dad dating again, but he knew that if he had to make a list of everything he wanted in the person his dad dated, Melissa would check every box and then some. For that alone, Stiles was just glad his dad had another shot at happiness.

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IMPOSSIBLE

It was about 800% impossible to get to sleep, and Stiles was lying there trying not to wriggle and fidget too much and wake Isaac up. Things were swirling around in his head and the blank view of the ceiling above was only making him more frustrated.

In the end, he ended up flopping over onto his stomach, watching Isaac closely for a moment or two before giving him a soft poke in the shoulder. When that didn’t work, the second poke was a little harder and Isaac woke. “Hey...” Stiles greeted him softly. The downside of dating an insomniac.

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MAYBE

Stiles was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was – maybe – the Emissary to Scott’s pack, and the job apparently came with his own personal Yoda-like dude who was an faerie angel who got booted out of heaven. Or something.

It was the something that worried him. It was overwhelming, because he felt like he should have known all this already. He also didn’t know if he was cut-out for the job. So much of it made sense, but at the same time, he felt like he was in more information overload than he had ever been.

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Stiles Stilinski