abracadabra

She eats lunch (a bigass brownie, because she has the diet of a twelve year old) in the most open courtyard imaginable, makes John's hiding spot (you can see her glance right at him for a second) and then spends the rest of her lunch looking around all Nervous.

When they get to the hotel she's like "oh my god is this what panic feels like" and when John hands her some chocolate she's like "oh will this create an adrenaline response to level out the panic?" he just says. no. but it tastes good. (The Machine views Root as a yellow Primary Asset square as soon as they enter the hotel it's so funny)

She waits until the last possible second to hack the elevator for their escape, just to see what John and Finch do when put into a corner.

Her idea of furnishing a fake office is to put a picture of a dude from a medicine ad in a picture frame.

She runs down 20+ flights of stairs IN HEELS???

and then when John sends her down the tunnel to Harold she looks him straight in the eye and very earnestly says Thank You because she is polite!! even if her next action is to shoot a woman in the passenger seat of Harold's car.

SHE DESCRIBES PUTTING A HIT ON HERSELF AS A CORPORATE RETREAT TRUST FALL

Stiles, after greeting Dereks mom and some siblings, enters the living room and sees a giant Great Dane laying on the couch: OMG! You’ve got a dog! Derek why didn’t you tell me? I love dogs!

Stiles, in the goofiest voice possible: who is the good boy? Who is the gooddest boy? Who is so soft and cute just sitting here, huh? It’s you! You are the gooddest boy! Who is so soft and nice and cuddly? Who wants some butt scratching? Huh? You?

Dog, jumps into Stiles’ lap and offers his belly for scratches: 👁️👅👁️

Derek with straight ass face: Stiles…

Stiles: huh?

Derek: Do you remember when I told you that not all shapeshifters turn into wolves? Some of us shapeshift into other animals?

Stiles: Yeah…

Derek: That’s my dad.

Stiles: ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ)

Derek: He’s feral rn and forgot that he’s half human

Stiles, looking at Talia, then at his own hand on the dog’s butt:

Stiles: Σ(°ロ°)!!!

Hale family, watching him go pale:

Derek: *eyebrows*

Stiles: I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to!

Minutes: pass as Stiles’ heartbeat starts to sound like he’s about to have a heart attack

Talia who finally took pity on him: Derek’s joking, it’s just a dog

Stlies: (；⌣̀_⌣́)

Dereks eyebrows: ^^

You Look At Me Like I'm All You Want (I'm Hardwired To Be With You) by MoonWolfBlues

Ongoing | Sterek | General Audiences | 7,980 words | 3/?

Read on AO3: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

---

The world comes back to him slowly this time, his senses waking up and pulling on the feeling of home. When Stiles slowly lifts his lids, a pair of gray-green eyes are peering down at him. He can feel a soft smile pulling on the corners of his lips. He’s safe; he can rest a bit more. So his eyes flutter shut again. 

“Stiles,” a soothing, familiar voice says. He can feel a warm pressure on his arm. “Stiles, it’s time to wake up. Deaton’s here.”

The mention of the Druid brings reality crashing back down. “Ugh.” His whole body ached. He hadn’t noticed it the first time he woke up, but now he could feel each and every muscle strain when he moved to sit up. “What time is it?” he asks the man beside him while attempting to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. 

“A little past four in the afternoon.”

“The same day I arrived, right?” he asked, worried he slept the week away. It wouldn’t be the first time his drained spark kept him unconscious that long. 

That earned him a chuckle from Derek. The sound wrapped around him like a warm hug, melancholy thick in the air. For a brief period of time, he had thought he was never going to hear that sound again, never feel the joy from making Derek Hale laugh. It wasn’t the same, this wasn’t his Derek, but he couldn’t help the beaming smile on his face despite the ache he felt for his lost mate.

“Yes,” Derek replied easily, “it’s still the same day. You’ve been passed out for a while, but not that long.” When Stiles met the man’s eyes, he could see a gleam of mirth. “Just long enough to drool everywhere.”

Stiles sputtered out a laugh, trying to be offended but failing miserably. “I’ll have you know, that drooling is a natural, bodily function and I’m not going to feel bad about it.” His hands were flying through the air, just barely missing Derek’s face.

Derek laughed again, grabbing one of Stiles’ hands. “You sound like my sister. Though she’s definitely worse than you when it comes to drooling.”

Stiles lights up at that tidbit of information. “Oh my god, I cannot wait to tell Cora you said that.” He laughs, “She’s going to kill you.”

Derek tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Oh no, sorry, I meant my older sister Laura.”

The laughter dies in Stiles’ throat. “Oh, yeah… Laura.”

Derek looks taken aback by the sudden change in Stiles’ emotions. He gives Stiles’ hand a reassuring squeeze. Stiles attempts a smile but he can tell by Derek’s eyebrows that he only managed a grimace. 

“Look,” Derek starts, “I’m not sure what–”

“No.” Stiles interrupts, squeezing Derek’s hand again. “At least, not yet. I need to talk to your mother first.” And wow did that word feel strange coming out of his mouth. Stiles hasn’t had much experience with mothers since his own died when he was nine, and his mate’s passed before they met. Mellisa was the closest he’d gotten in a long while, but even then, it wasn’t the same.

Derek frowned but nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments before Derek tilted his head towards the door. A few seconds later, Stiles could hear shuffling on the other side before Talia walked in with Deaton and her husband. 

Stiles sighed, letting Derek help him sit up before addressing them. “You might as well get Peter down here. As much as I hate to admit it, he’ll be helpful for this conversation.”

Talia did something with her eyebrows that usually meant confusion when his Derek wore them, and called for the man in question.

While they waited, an awkward silence filled the small room. There was nowhere else to sit so the others stood against the wall opposite the bed. Stiles watched Talia assess him next to her son. Which, fair… to her, Stiles was still a potential enemy, a would-be threat. But this meant that he also saw when her gaze dipped to their hands. Hands that were tangled in the sheet between them, grasping on for something neither of them could name yet. She raised an eyebrow at her son in question and he sprang away from the bed, and Stiles, like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar after his parents had told him no. 

Stiles just rolled his eyes at the man. And they say Stiles is dramatic. 

Peter arrived just in time to save them all from another awkward pause, clapping his hands as he entered the room. “Let’s get down to business.”

The group stared at Stiles as if waiting for him to start, but Deaton beat him to the punch. Taking a step towards the bed, he spoke with an air of calm that seemed to settle the Hales. “Stiles, is it?”

Stiles nodded at the man. He looked much younger than the Deaton that had helped his pack back when they were in high school. His shoulders were held back, tall and sturdy, and his face was free of lingering worry. 

“Talia tells me that you aren’t from here. That you mentioned something about time and space? Would you like to explain what you meant by that?”

Stiles smiled and could feel the twinkle in his eye. Boy was Deaton going to regret asking him an open-ended question like that. “Well I’m pretty sure my spark altered space and time in order to send me to a different reality.” 

There was a pause before everyone started speaking at once.

“That’s not possible.”

“You’re a spark?”

“What do you mean a different reality?”

“Who the hell is this kid?”

Stiles just grinned at them before Derek’s dad – woah that was so weird to say – stepped in. 

“Okay, okay, everyone settle down. Stiles, why don’t you start from the beginning. Who are you?”

Stiles paused, debating on whether or not to answer. Was it safe to tell them everything? His magic didn’t feel threatened by them so they may be able to help him figure out what was going on. And the truth would probably be best – damn it, this wasn’t going to be fun.

“My name is Stiles Stillinski.” That got him a confused look.

“Like the sheriff?” Peter asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, he’s my dad.”

“That’s not poss-” Derek’s dad began, but Deaton held up his hand to stop him. 

“Is it safe to assume, Mr. Stillinski, that your memory of things will probably not align with what we know to be true?”

Stiles tilted his head, thinking. “Yeah, probably. I’m not sure what all will be different but seeing as the whole Hale family is up and walking around in Beacon Hills, things are going to be pretty altered.” He winced at their confused faces. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Deaton just nodded, “I assumed so. We’ll try not to interrupt too much then.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. Deaton was being much more accommodating than he was used to. Usually, he just nodded silently and let the pack figure things out on their own. Stiles nodded his understanding, nonetheless. 

Talia cut in then, “Why don’t you explain your connection to the Hale pack since it seems you know quite a bit about us.”

Stiles gulped, his throat dry all of a sudden. He isn’t sure how they’re all going to take this, though he guesses most of them already heard him say it to Talia earlier.

He began slowly. “Where I’m from, I am the emissary of the Hale pack.” 

Derek’s dad steps forward, “But you’re so young. How could you possibly be qualified to be Talia’s emissary? What happened to Deaton?”

Stiles reached up and scratched his neck, looking away, “Yeah, um, I never said Talia was my alpha…”

“can you imagine the faces their children could make” (X)

In my headcanon the sheriff would love whatever Stiles would present him as a grandchild.

“yeah, can you imagine first seeing him?”

And so, Stiles and Derek are not ready for parenthood and are totally freaked out by their weird son:

Derek’s quiet for a long time, staring blankly, before he eventually offers, “This isn’t what I expected.” Stiles frowns down at the baby in his arms. “I know, right? They won’t take it back; I already asked.” Derek leans over him, peering down at the weird little face. It’s unsettling how thick the baby’s eyebrows are. “Are babies born with teeth?” “Not usually,” Stiles replies. “His grody little snaggletooth is creeping me out.“ “His everything is creeping me out,” Derek retorts, dropping into the chair at the side of the bed. “I’m pretty sure this is because you got possessed by that demon.” “Aw, hell no,” Stiles argues. “That thing was in me for like five minutes, tops. This thing - ” he nods toward the baby in his arms ” - you don’t absorb this kind of evil in five minutes. This is like ten years possession minimum.” “What are we going to name him?” “Beats me. Calling him after your dad seems kind of disrespectful to your dad, doesn’t it?” Derek sighed heavily. “He probably would have found this hilarious. I told you my family’s cursed.” He squinted over at Stiles. “You sure it’s even a boy?” “Dude, I’m not sure it’s even human,” Stiles replies. “Seriously, how come shit like this always happens to us?” “Because the universe knows we’ll grin and bear it,” Derek sighs again. “You sure we can’t send it back?“

“No,” Stiles grumbles discontentedly, and straightens as his father steps into the room. He cradles the baby protectively to his chest; even if the thing’s weird as hell, it’s still his. “Whoa, Dad, before you pull out your gun and shoot the baby, I can promise you, with about ninety-percent certainty, that I did not give birth to a cave beast, even though it may look that way. And maybe this is our fault because Derek’s so fricken possessive of his jizz and refused to use a surrogate so we had to resort to black magic and give me a magical womb - so actually this is Derek’s fault, really - this is your grandson. Probably. We’re not too clear on the gender right now.”

The sheriff sighs, as he so often does when confronted with his son’s verbal onslaught, and holds out his hands, a silent give me the child. Stiles puckers his mouth and hands over his son and watches the sheriff’s face cycle through several emotions, ending, bewilderingly, on happiness.

“He’s beautiful,” his father croons, and Stiles looks over, bewildered, at Derek, who mouths He’s not lying. He looks just as perplexed as Stiles. 

“Just wait until Melissa sees him,” the sheriff says cheerfully, pulling his phone out of his pocket and snapping a picture.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees slowly. He’s already regretting having shown his father how to use the camera on his phone. “Just wait.“

THIS IS THEIR COME TO JESUS MOMENT.

They name it Herald. It was supposed to be Harold, after Derek’s grandfather, who Derek says was a weird old man and Stiles says that’s fitting, then, but Stiles was asleep when it came time to fill out the birth certificate and Derek couldn’t remember how to spell Harold, so he sounded it out. 

So their kid’s name is Herald, but mostly they call him It. They don’t tell him it’s because they didn’t even know if he was human when he was born because he may be a little weirdo, but he’s their little weirdo, and they don’t want to stunt his mental health. Stiles almost tells him it’s because they loved The Addams Family, but then he thinks about how Cousin It was a weird thing covered in hair and maybe that’s not a great comparison. 

It creeps them out. He is unnaturally silent, always with this bucktoothed little smile on his face that makes Stiles sure that he and Derek are going to be killed in their sleep. Stiles distinctly remembers playing hide and seek with him when he was young, Stiles and Derek crammed together in a cupboard and Derek mumbled, “I can’t hear his fucking heart,” and then It’s creepy little eye was pressed up to the crack in the door like the killer in a slasher fic and Stiles screamed like a little girl. 

Still, they’re sad when he grows up and heads off to college. He’s still creepy; he’s got bad skin and his heavy eyebrows almost touch in the middle, but they kiss him on the forehead and say “We’ll miss you!” which is probably true. And when he drives off into the battered Jeep, Stiles says to Derek, “I think we just unleashed a hellion unto the world,” and Derek says, “Too late now.” And Stiles does miss him, up until a few days later when he goes to clean It’s room and finds a box of desiccated frog corpses under his bed. 

They don’t hear from It that often, which isn’t unusual, nor unexpected. One time they lost him for a few days and Stiles found him sitting in the attic, perfectly still. He said he’d been counting heartbeats and neither of them really wanted to ask whose. Still, they miss him. Probably.

One morning Stiles goes downstairs and there’s a stranger standing in the living room. It’s near Christmas and he has a vague idea that It should be coming home soon, but he is not prepared for the sight of a handsome young man standing next to the Christmas tree. Stiles screams. 

“That’s It,” Derek says from behind him. 

I give it MASCLES

And I wanna stress that when i say “top of the leg” i’m not talking about the crotch (please don’t flag me tumblr it’s an anatomical term) i’m talking about the point where the femur connects to the pelvis, which is higher up on the hips:

It’s easier to see what I’m talking about in this photo of a man squatting: 

So yeah if you use that measurement when using this technique you should get fairly realistically proportioned legs:

But remember! messing with proportions is an important and fun part of character design! Know the rules first so you can then break them however you please!

….But at the same time, she doesn’t tolerate being objectified against her wishes:

but then there’s also the time she just….built a functional AI?