the wolves will change

[alphafemale]

[ Though they were on a shaky truce with the Argents, Diana could at least trust that they wouldn't shoot at her or the pack with aconite laced bullets any time soon. "Trust" was a... generalized way to put it, but it was the only word she really had at the moment. Because she couldn't say the same of outside hunters who came through hearing there was a growing pack roaming the city of Beacon Hills, ones that barely followed the code.

She'd lead them away from the pack, and away from the Hale house where Isaac had been hiding when she yelled at him to, but now she's left roaming with nowhere to go and a bullet wound in her leg, aconite oozing into her system. Reaching quietly, she pulls the hood of the stolen red hoodie up over her head, hiding herself further as she hunches in it and her jacket.

With a quiet and discontent rumble, she walks up the front steps to the Stilinski household, not quite noticing the droplets of blood trailing down her legs as she holds a hand out to knock dizzily on the front door rather than attempt to climb through a window. ]

Comments

[hypercompetent]

[Her only response is another piteous little groan, and Stiles finally shifts the pillow off of his face to give her his absolute best kicked puppy stare. (He learned it from Scott.)]

He might not come up--! [But even he knows that's totally a moot argument and god he is going to die a virgin.] And what if you realize this was a horrible mistake a couple hours from now, bam, window of opportunity closed!

[alphafemale]

Stiles.

[ She moves to lean over him again, her eyes returning to sugar glass green in the sudden interruption. But instead of saying anything, she reaches and slides her hand around to cup the side of his neck, head bowing forward so she can kiss him again. It's slow and easy and a quiet promise, before the sheriff's calling up for his son from downstairs in one of his most patient voices. ]

[hypercompetent]

[Because that definitely makes him want to get up.

When he finally removes himself from her, it's with a slow, lolling motion--he follows the kiss until he's sitting up again, and pulls away kind of dopey eyed, grinning a little. If he could see his face right now, he'd seriously be ashamed of it. It's kind of Scott worthy.

And then, in a snap of limbs and emotions and probably a fresh wave of feelings, he jumps up, tugs a sweatshirt over his head and looks between her and the door, then holds his hands up, he'll be right back.

When he slumps against the outside door, he does a little gesture-dance, half out of victory and half out of relief, "oh my god fuck yesss" before he scrambles down the stairs.]

[sheriffed]

[ What Stiles finds down at the bottom of the stairs is one Sheriff Stilinski, waiting with far more patience than he should actually be allotting his son at the moment. Brow raised and arms crossed, he inclines his head to look up at Stiles as he comes downstairs.

Once he's only a couple steps higher than him, he unfolds his arms and holds up a very familiar leather jacket. ]

I think your guest forgot something.

[hypercompetent]

............

[FUCK.]

Uh. Guest? What guest. I'm here, y'know. All alone. Like I am almost always. A beacon of solitude and teenage angst.

[sheriffed]

Stiles, I might not know everything that happens in your life these days, but I'm not completely oblivious.

[ He reaches up and prods his son in the chest with his fist, the one holding the jacket. ]

Or blind. You're glowing.

no not the face

[hypercompetent]

I'm not a pregnant woman! Pregnant women glow. Stiles does not glow. [He makes a grab for the jacket, and his cheeks take on a downright brilliant red flush.] I'm just doing homework, and Diana busted in here, y'know how she does.


[........well now he just admitted it.]

Yes the face.

[sheriffed]

[ He's about to give the jacket to him, but then Stiles goes and tells him that Diana Hale, person of interest (exonerated or not), tends to bust into his house while he's away.

He pulls the jacket out of his son's reach. ]

As she does.

[hypercompetent]

[FUCK FUCK FUCK.]

Uuuh, yeah, you know, we're both just reeally, really big fans of that one uh, tv show with the cops and the criminals. So we watch it. Together. Now that she's, y'know, not a person of interest anymore.

[Dig yourself in deeper, Stiles.]

[sheriffed]

Son.

[ He levels him with a calm, but even, look.

And that's all. ]

[hypercompetent]

Dad. [He swallows.]

[sheriffed]

[ He reaches up and sets his hand on Stiles' shoulder, giving a squeeze. ]

You don't have to make up anything for cover, Stiles. If there's something going on with you and Diana, you can tell me.

[hypercompetent]

[...because he's really going to tell his dad he was just probably about to get laid by said formerly exonerated criminal. Stiles rocks back on his feet a little, making a face. The shoulder squeeze is definitely not helping his already mounting guilt. ]

...It's. Complicated?

[sheriffed]

Okay.

[ Finally, he offers him the jacket. But his expression turns a little bit stern as he does, and he tips his head towards him. ]

The door stays open if she's here when I am. And if she's here in the morning, she's having breakfast with us.

[hypercompetent]

[Stiles blinks at him a little slowly, kind of surprised. ]

...That's it?

[Wait.]

I mean-uh--yeah, totally. Understood, 100%, gotcha. [Look at this dumb grin, Sheriff. Your son is ridiculously happy.]

[sheriffed]

Unless you want to sit through an awkward talk with me about safe sex and being a gentleman.

Believe me, I'd rather just hope you know better.

[ The look on his face clearly says your dad really, really hopes this is true, Stiles.

But it also says he's happy for his son. ]

[hypercompetent]

[His grin slides a little lopsided, practically matching his father's, and he reaches out his hand to punch him lightly in the arm.]

Learned it from the best.

[sheriffed]

Good.

[ He brings his hand up and mimics the punch, before taking his shoulder to turn him around. ]

How you managed this one, I don't want to know. But go on.

[hypercompetent]

Your faith in me is astoundingly small, dad, I'm totally hurt. [He lets the Sheriff push him up towards the stairs with zero hesitation and practically skips back up them two at a time, seriously victory dancing on the stairs. This has seriously, officially been the best day of his life.

He pauses at the top of the stairs.]

Hey--thanks, dad.

[sheriffed]

I'm sure you are, son. But seriously, I don't want to know how this happened until after I've accepted the fact my son has an "it's complicated" with Diana Hale.

[ But if anything, he can't be mad. He remembers the look on a much younger Diana's face when he told her that her home had burned, family and all. Remembers the look on her face when she came in, arrested on suspicion of murdering her own sister.

Stiles is a good kid, if distant from him as of late. If there's anyone that can help her find... well, something, it's his son. ]

For what?

[hypercompetent]

[He stops for a minute to ponder it. What is he really thanking his dad for? For being there, for not looking at him with his brow creased in disappointment, or just for the whole Diana thing? Leaning on the doorway, he chews over his words for a second before settling on:]

For A+ parenting.

[Before skipping back in the room and...halfway closing the door. Compromise.]

[alphafemale]

[ He'll take it. Same way he'll accept Stiles' response, and give him his time with Diana.

Who is laying on his bed on her side, legs tucked up close to her body as she looks over a collection of notes that Stiles has compiled. She's holding a highlighter as she reads, the opposite end of it pressed against her lips as she scans through everything almost absently. She could hear them downstairs, of course, but she doesn't look up as Stiles comes back to his room. ]

[hypercompetent]

[So. Make out with a hot girl. Check. Get to see hot girl's boobs. Check. Get to touch hot girl's boobs. Check. Have a moment of parental trust and bonding? Check. One of these things just doesn't belong here, but Stiles is more than thrilled with his life at the current moment, and he crouches down a little beside the bed, enough that he can put his chin on her shoulder. Yes, he'd very much like to get back to what they were doing, but he's feeling pretty warm and fuzzy right now so. It's all good.]

Which ones're those?

[alphafemale]

[ Letting out a quiet rumble as Stiles sets his chin on her shoulder, Diana takes the highlighter and marks a line in yellow. She's content and warm, wrapped up in Stiles everywhere-- his clothes, his bed, him-- and glad, at least, that the Sheriff has accepted this in his own way. Give him enough time to process, and she's fairly sure he'll be ready to actually address it. ]

Pack dynamics. Overall, you've got a lot of things right. I'm impressed.

[ Make out with hot girl, see/touch boobs, paternal bonding, and praise. ]

[hypercompetent]

Research is pretty much my only useful talent around here, I can't exactly have any slack. [Looking curiously over her shoulder, he rests a hand against her side, not so much a desperate want as a need to touch.] By the way, you have no idea how many creepy roleplay sites I had to sort through to find the relevant crap. Did you know that Jacob from Twilight apparently had a "pack mentality" for Bella? [lineface]