I have a feeling you sent this a few days ago, but I just saw it, and THANK FUCKING GOD because I am ready to go into the woods and become a feral woman as long as it means I don’t have to keep working on polychords.
Answering this ask instead of that seems like a good middle ground, though.
SO. Christopher Billiam Argent learned how to knit from his grandmother. His tension is so regular that his garments look machine knitted. And that’s what he knits: full garments. He’s a sweater knitter. No fuckin’ hats or mittens for this bitch. He cuts steeks with no fear and his colorwork made a woman in a yarn shop cry once because it was so beautiful.
Stiles learned how to knit from youtube 3 minutes at a time, and the first time Chris sees his needle hold he wonders how such a beautiful boy could also be such a godless heathen. His tension isn’t great, but his lace work is amazing. Unfortunately no one knows because Stiles hasn’t blocked a project in 4 years.
Peter learned how to knit from Stiles and Chris, so his style is a hodgepodge of strict yarn hold and “Eh, this works.” He likes short projects like socks, mittens, and hats. He also has a terminal case of second sock syndrome. Chris and Stiles have at least convinced him to start knitting left and right mittens alternately, so that they can find one for each hand even if they don’t match.
They tried making a quilt together, once. The design phase ended with Peter sleeping on the couch and Stiles refusing to talk to Chris to two days. They keep to their own projects after that.
Despite their failed collaborative efforts, there’s nothing they love more than seeing each other in things they’ve made, though. For Peter, it’s more of a scent/marking thing. Hand knit objects hold scent like nothing else, every single centimeter having been handled and cared for by Peter. So when Stiles and Chris wear something he’s made, any werewolf with half a nose knows exactly who they’re going home to.
For Stiles, it’s a warm feeling of acceptance. When Peter and Chris wear something he’s knit, he sees it as confirmation that they still love him and want to be associated with him. He knows that the things he knits don’t always look the best, but they still want to wear it, because Stiles made it. To Stiles, it’s one of the most tellings confessions of love.
When Chris sees Peter and Stiles wearing something he’s knit, it gives him a satisfied feeling of having provided. He’s taking care of them. They’re being kept warm and safe by him. He feels not only needed, but like he’s successfully filling that need.
In short, the Stetopher household is the coziest motherfucking house in the tri-county area.
Okay. O k a y. What is some more steter that I can throw down?? God there’s so much amazing steter coming out of the reverse bang, have u seen the art?? And the long ass stories??? Fucking bless u Steter people.
How about this: I recently had an idea for a Haunted House AU, where the fire never happened because Talia is super fucking paranoid and snapped Kate in half when she caught her with Derek. But, because she’s super fucking paranoid, she also sends Peter to “Check Things Out” all the damn time, when nothing is actually going on.
So she sends him out to this haunted house. Like a spoopy, carnival type, polyester cobwebs haunted house. She claims there’s weird shit going on there. Peter is like “Yeah, it’s a haunted house, of course there’s weird shit going on” but he’s a good brother/information gatherer, so he goes.
He shows up, and there’s this jittery guy just ahead of him in line. His eyes are darting around nervously, but man are they some gorgeous eyes. Peter sees no reason why he can’t combine business with pleasure, so he approaches the guy, finds out his name is Stiles, and offers to walk through the haunted house with him.
Stiles is visibly relieved, and immediately like “Hell to the yes, please walk through with me, my friend Scott was supposed to come with me but he backed out at the last minute because he doesn’t actually think there’s anything scary here-”
And Peter like “Awesome, we’ll book it through the house and then maybe I can take him back to mine” *intense eyebrow wiggle* So they go through the house, Stiles jumps at every single corner and winds up in Peter’s arms more often than not.
Then they come to the back of the haunted house and there’s a fucking murderous ghoul or something, an actual facts monster, and Peter’s like “goddamn it” but he brings out the teeth and the claws because this is technically what he’s here for.
And he’s ready for Stiles to run screaming in the other direction, and Stiles does, in fact, scream. He also starts whipping out spell after spell, attacking the ghoul and blowing it to pieces. Peter is stunned, and basically just stands there while Stiles decimates the monster.
After he’s done, Stiles is like “Whew, wow, I’m glad that’s over. I was so fucking glad to see a werewolf here, it was gonna be terrifying to look for that thing by myself. Thanks dude. You wanna get out of here?”
And Peter’s got stars in his eyes. The scaredy cat is not only gorgeous, but also a massive badass. He’s got a heart boner and a regular boner, and he’s going to entrust them both to Stiles.
i love this omg, i am always 2000% here for Peter falling head over heels in love with adorable-secretly-badass!Stiles. Imagine after this Peter starts planning to woo the hell out of Stiles because no way is he letting his One True Love get away. Except Talia keeps obliviously throwing wrenches into Peter’s flowers-and-chocolate, wine-and-dine plans because she is still paranoid as fuck and keeps sending Peter off to track down the root of all suspicious rumours and gossip, basically anything that sends up alarm bells or emergency flares or fucking smoke signals on the supernatural radar, and Peter is just so Done but Pack comes first so he goes.
The next time is a hotel of all places, and not even a nice one. It looks creepy and deserted, smells like mold, Peter would’ve mistaken the clerk at the front-desk for a zombie if not for the guy’s heartbeat, and it takes him less than an hour after checking in and glaring suspiciously at the bed in his room before he realizes exactly why the whole building hasn’t been torn down yet – it’s a haunted hotel, because of course it is. He’s forced to vacate his room when the resident poltergeist practically tears the walls down after Peter chucks a lamp at it, and he’s fleeing down the hall while lamenting the fact that if he dies here, he’s never going to be able to get a first date with Stiles, except then another door flies open and Stiles practically crashes into him, shrieking his head off just as the ceiling of the room he just tore out of collapses.
“Peter!” Stiles exclaims, and Peter just stands there gaping because this is twice they’ve met up on a job like this, and really, what are the odds? Luckily, Stiles has no such hangups, simply grabs his hand and off they run for their lives as both poltergeists come barreling after them. They round a corner, Stiles produces salt out of thin air, and hurls it straight at the poltergeists, making them scream but buying Peter and Stiles enough time to lose them at least for a while. They spend the rest of the night hunting down the poltergeists’ remains for a good old salt-and-burn, and their luggage is a lost cause when – without the poltergeists’ power sustaining the place – the entire hotel crumbles to dust, but they survived, the world is a slightly safer place, and Stiles spent their whole hunt holding Peter’s hand and blushing prettily when Peter makes no move to let go either, and Peter supposes that maybe the perfect first date he imagined – with flowers and chocolate and a fancy restaurant – would’ve been a poor substitute compared to the excitement and danger the two of them always seem to find themselves in.
(Not that that’s going to stop Peter from pulling out all the stops of course, flowers and chocolates included. They need some rest in-between the excitement and danger after all.)
This is AMAZING and PERFECT and I am LONG DISTANCE SMOOCHING YOU RIGHT NOW.
I can just see them ten years down the road, cleaning out a vengeance ghost and reminiscing about their first date.
“Remember how you wouldn’t let go of my hand?” Peter says fondly, as he chucks a handful of salt in the face of the screaming specter.
“Oh, was I the one who wouldn’t let go? I recall someone opening every door left handed, even though he’s right handed,” Stiles says pointedly, swinging an iron fireplace poker around his head.
“I’d just found you again!” Peter protests. “I couldn’t lose you again before I had a chance to ask you out.” He finishes drawing the sigil and slices his hand open to activate it.
Stiles strides over, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek before throwing in the last line of the sigil that Peter missed, and the ghost disappears.
“Damn, I knew I forgot something,” Peter says with a frown before shrugging. “Want to go get breakfast at that little diner again? I might even make out with you like last time if you’re lucky.”
!!! You added to it! I love the tyl scenario, they never forget how their first date =D
WHAT’S THIS? I’M ON TIME?!?! I’m probably more shocked than you are!
I have a bunch of projects on the go right now, but I’m gonna share a snippet of the thing I’m writing for cockygate:
His dad would murder them both if he had any idea what they were
doing. The thought just makes him harder, honestly. (Stiles’s relationship with
authority might be described as “antagonistic”.)
He pulls off to check where they are. Peter grips the back of
his neck and pushes him back down. “We’re still on Cockney Road, and you have
better things to do than stare out the windshield.”
Yep, this is late. My life is a hot mess. BUT I’M WRITING, GODDAMNIT.
*cough* Anyway. You’re getting a sneak peek at the AU of an AU I wrote. Peter’s still an RA, this is still an A/B/O, this is still about medicine. Everything else, though? Totally different.
As soon as he walks through the door, he calls Erica. She
picks up on the second ring, and it makes him smile. “Hey! How’d it go?”
He shrugs, even though she can’t see it. “Good, I think? I
dunno. Still processing.”
She makes a thoughtful noise, and he kicks off his shoes and
settles on the couch. “So what’re the hoops?”
He huffs. “Surprisingly few. He wants me to go off the
hormone stabilizers and put on some weight before I see him again.”
“I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” He drags a hand over his face. “Although,
I gotta say, the fact that he’s kinda going back to basics—no meds, tweaking my
diet—gives me a good feeling.”
Erica makes a skeptical noise. “Okay.”
“No, like. All the others wanted to run me through a billion
tests and put me on all kinds of medication. And I feel like, if that was the
solution, something would’ve happened by now?”
Queer Fiction Writer 