For this, I’m thinking that in this dystopian world, there’s the wolf territory and the human territory, and one hell of a militarized border between them. Crossings between them are strictly controlled to keep everyone where they’re “supposed” to be, humans with humans, weres with weres…except Stiles is on the human side and Scott is on the werewolf side, and that just won’t do at all.
He’s getting across that border, damn it.
But how does a human cross to the werewolf side without being bitten? Marriage. Obviously.
Married couples can stay together, but with the division so strongly enforced for a few years now, there aren’t many married couples making the trip except to visit family or pack. Certainly no new couples.
Derek is currently on the human side, probably for Argent reasons, and he’s on his way back to cross the border and reunite with his pack. And Stiles is totally going to hitch a ride with that ass.
They hammer out the details, their hard limits, what lines they won’t cross, and tie the knot.
And then obviously throughout their travels, there’s Feelings that both think are unrequited, and once they part ways, angsting. The good angsting, the “it’s purely business but I miss the guy a lot??” crises that lead to one hell of a reunion.
“Every character has a specific color — it’s a nice way of giving people their own identity. We use color like comic books do, with each character staying in their lane as far their palette goes: T’Challa is purple, Okoye is red, and Nakia is green.
[Nakia] is the No. 1 warrior in the River tribe and her look was inspired by the Suri tribe in Africa,” says Carter. “Green signifies water, a coastal community, leaves and plants — they live in a lush area, as opposed to the perception that Africa is arid and dry.” – Black Panther costume designer Ruth Carter
– Derek, when the hell are you coming back? They wrestled me to the floor! Isaac won’t shut up about Scott, Boyd is licking everything and Erica demands we play house!
– Listen, do you know how hard it is to find a dress that isn’t pink? I’ll be back soon!
twisting a request of Stiles and Derek being parents into deaging the pack
You are so welcome! There’s a special warm feeling about meeting children whose parents met in my signing lines.
I love how this implies that it’s not an isolated incident 🙂
It definitely isn’t. At most long signings these days I meet a child or two whose parents tell me they met in a signing line, long ago. (I’ve met no children yet who were conceived in a signing line, though, at least not to the best of my knowledge.)
To me this sounds like two princes who have a very drunken hookup in college, both too drunk to recognize each other, and then stumble out the next morning without looking their silent shame in the face.
A few years later they’re out of college, they’ve stopped partying (mostly), they’re respectable, it’s time for them to do their princely duties and get married. For the good of their countries and solidifying old fashioned alliances and whatnot. Neither of them is particularly thrilled about it because rumor has it that Stiles guy is kind of a weirdo, and Prince Derek has one hell of a stick up his ass.
But they’re adults, they’ve known this was coming, they follow each other on Instagram (though Derek has posted all of one picture, that was clearly posted for him), they can handle it.
They finally meet in person, officially, with their parents and diplomats and a trusted photographer in the room, and there’s…something about this guy. Stiles narrows his eyes over their handshake that’s been going on too long, trying to place why he seems so familiar; Derek raises his eyebrows at what he interprets to be blatant dislike, and things are off to a rocky start.
There are formal brunches during which Stiles practically glares at the guy, because when has he met him before? Somehow he knows him!
Stiles plays the piano, because he’s a well rounded prince, but Derek can’t even focus on the music because he can’t stop watching his fingers. There’s something familiar about them. He has some distant, fuzzy memory of those fingers—and for some reason they’re a turn on?
They’re at a diplomatic soiree, keeping close to each other for appearance and because they really should get to know each other, when a server approaches them with a tray of crystal champagne flutes filled with the finest bubbly. Stiles shakes his head as Derek holds up a polite hand, and the server moves on.
“Bad experience in college,” Stiles says, and Derek just nods. Neither can remember the details, but there were two bottles of stolen champagne finished off on a rooftop under the stars.
It isn’t until much later, maybe months, maybe after the wedding that they realize why they know each other. Maybe Derek takes off his shirt for a quick swim, or Stiles spills something on his dress shirt and has to borrow one and starts unbuttoning while Derek’s standing right there. Maybe it’s Derek’s abs Stiles remembers licking, or a particular mole Derek has a weird memory of biting a massive hickey onto while drunkenly advising Stiles get it checked for melanoma.
Either way, there’s a moment realization where they stand there, gaping stupidly, totally blindsided as that night slowly filters back into their minds in bits and pieces, and then there’s probably more ab licking and mole biting and Derek’s still weirdly concerned about melanoma.
theproblemwithstardust 