Stop himself from asking what had happened. It was apparent by the dark bruise surrounding her cheek and left eye. Without saying anything he stepped into the shower with her, arms wrapping around her slender frame and pulling her close. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he promised that her family would never hurt her again. (2/2)
It had been a long time since she bothered telling anyone that her family hurt her. People knew because a few too many trips to the emergency room and more black eyes than Harry could explain away as being clumsy would clue someone in eventually. But Harry just smiled and got really creative with make up and explaining away why she couldn’t run in gym class or just how easy it was the fall down the stairs.
But it was Stiles, and he saw her when no one else did. She knew when she’d climbed into the bottom of the shower that he’d probably be there eventually. But she couldn’t stop her tears as much as she tried, her shoulders heaving, even when he was there and her body aches, the water turning cold over stark bruises on pale skin.
So, she just takes comfort in the fact that he’s there and that’s all that really matters. He’s her best friend and he will always be there no matter what. Even when everything else is too much and she’s breaking down.
He's been awake for hours now, silently watching Derek sleep. He's aware it's slightly creepy but he hasn't seen the other make in so long and all he wants to do is drown himself in his presence. He's still until his stomach makes noises of protest , demanding food. Dragging himself from the bed to go get breakfast, he leaves a small note on his pillow, his own messy handwriting on it. "If I said I want your body now would you hold it against me? What if I brought breakfast too? -stiles"
Derek had gotten used to sleeping alone. Had gotten used to the empty space by his side. Usually he filled it with pillows, or Socks and Hans. Sometimes Scott or Isaac would come over, Lucas joining them, but it was never the same.
So, when Stiles got up, he didn’t actually notice. It was a half hour later that he rolled over and realized he wasn’t at home. He was in Poland. In the guest house of Stiles’ grandparents. He blinked, licking his lips as he looked over the small note.
He chuckled, sitting up and stretched a little. He grabbed a shirt, tugging it on and walking down the stairs towards the kitchen. He leaned on the threshold, watching the boy read his Polish newspaper, talking fluently to their son.
Lucas just clapped his hands in celebration rather than understanding. He smirked though, couldn’t help it. “Morning.” he said, walking over to the table and giving Cas a soft kiss on the head.
This note is harder to find, but Stiles knows that the magic infused with it will draw her towards it like a beacon. Even if she doesn't realize it at first. Hidden amongst a pile of booms nearly to the ceiling in his room lies a crumpled piece of paper, his own messy script almost indecipherable. "Read some of these in your spare time. Confidence boosters and there's some pretty cool spells. Like how to make someone speak in only Shakespearean. Use them wisely and to your advantage. Stiles."
[ It takes longer than she would have liked to find the note. She can feel Stiles’ particular brand of magic, but it takes more searching that she realized. Honestly, she hadn’t even realized what she was looking for, just that there was something she was drawn to.
Until she’s found the note, it had just been a feeling that she couldn’t shake. Now, she sits on the floor of his room, smiling as she traces sloppy letters, feeling his own magic spark her own, tattoos flaring up her arms in response. She misses it, but the notes help. They really do boost her confidence when she’s feeling like she doesn’t know if she can keep going. It helps. ]
”Now I have to find that spell for Shakespearean. You have to know you can’t tease me like that. With my luck it’s at the very bottom like this note. Which is probably your plan so I’ll read all of them and be oh so flush with knowledge by the time I’m done.”
This time it's a box of cookies, mostly home made and a little crispier than intended, that sits on the front porch. Beside the box a smaller one that holds a dainty necklace. The note attached to the cookies reads: "Searching for something else and I found a recipe for cookies my mom used to make. While they might not be as delicious they are still pretty good. And if you truly hate the cookies, here's an owl necklace I found that I thought you'd like. xoxo Stiles."
[ Why eat eggs for breakfast when she could have homemade cookies? Oh, and an owl necklace! Honestly, if he kept this up, then Ginny will probably fall in love with him. She opens the box to taste the cookies. Shite, they were delicious. Thank you, Stiles. ]
But seriously do you ever think that all those who died in the battle of Hogwarts probably went on the chocolate frogs’ cards . And Teddy opening one before going on the train to Hogwarts and seeing his parents smiling at him, so they were actually there to see him off on his first year.
“have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?
maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.
maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.
maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.
i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.
i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.
i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths.”—R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained (via eroseca)
The only advice I can really give to anyone about coping with stuff is to channel your anger towards creating something. Control your frustration and ride it out because one day you’ll look back and realize that instead of being hopelessly upset all your life, you actually used it to become something.
Socialism:You have 2 cows and you give one to your neighbor.
Communism:You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and gives you some milk.
Fascism:You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and sells you some milk.
Nazism:You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and shoots you.
Bureaucratism:You have 2 cows; the Government takes both, shoots one, milks the other and throws the milk away..
Traditional Capitalism:You have 2 cows. You sell one and buy a bull. You herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.
An American Corporation:You have 2 cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyze why the cow dropped dead.
A French Corporation:You have 2 cows. You go on strike because you want three cows.
Japanese Corporation:You have 2 cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called Cowkimon and market them Worldwide.
An Italian Corporation:You have 2 cows, but you don't know where they are. You break for lunch.
A Swiss Corporation:You have 5000 cows. None of which belong to you. You charge others for storing them.
Chinese Corporation:You have 2 cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.
An Iraqi Corporation:Everyone thinks you have lots of cows. You tell them that you have none. No one believes you and they bomb your arse. You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.......
Counter Culture:'Wow, dig it, like there's these 2 cows, man, grazing in the hemp field. You gotta have some of this milk!'
Surrealism:You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.
Apathyologism:You have 2 cows. You do not care.
Fatalist:You have 2 doomed cows...
Atheism:You have 2 cows. There is no God.
A West-Country Corporation:You have 2 cows. That one on the left is kinda cute.
A Brazilian Corporation:You have 2 cows. You pay taxes for 6 cows. You have to sell one cow in order to pay the taxes. Your remaining cow gets sick and dies while waiting for availability in the public vet hospital.
PETA:You have two cows. You kill them both. You then use naked women to convince other people that killing cows is wrong.
Moffat:You have two cows. Both of them are your daughters time traveling from the past where they had a brief love affair with Da Vinci making you the rightful Queen of England.
Hussie:You have 2 cows. You ask for another one. Instead of getting just 1 cow, you get 2,485,506 cows.
Romney:You have 2 cows. You are not the president of the united states.
Once-ler:You have 1 cow. Everyone decides to make 5 different versions of that cow.
Old Spice:You have 2 cows. The cows are now diamonds. I'm on a horse.
An Irish Corporation:You have a million cows because they're everywhere
Tumblr:You have 2 cows. You ship them together and make GIF posts screaming about how much you love your cows, but they should stop existing because they are so perfect.