#awildstiles

#too sexy for your tags

#what is that sound #that is the sound of emotional evisceration with a rusty spork #u assh0 #c r e y

awildstiles replied to your post:

#TOO EARLY #get your angst out of my coffee #jfc

put one of these in my askbox and see how my muse reacts.

"Fuck you."

{ Fuck you, you didn;t see the engineering dock. You have no idea what happened to his friends down there. You weren't a casualty of whatever the fuck that was consuming everyone in this goddamn spaceship-- turning them into... into monsters.

That was what they were. Monsters. Inhuman, grotesque onsters mutated beyond recognition. Isaac barely escaped with his life and he was still shaking, finger on the trigger and a manic gleam in his eyes. }

#laughing #like a hyena #HYENA #this verse #this fucking verse

#is gonna be fucking r a d #and we havent even started im-- #craughs with you

your-throat-my-teeth replied to your post 

//dkjfnsdkjfnskjfsdnskjnsfd is this your way of saying you want me to write you a starter?

☠: My fist to your kisser.

The blood is still coursing through his veins at a temperature that feels abnormal, and Derek's chest is tight with something more personal than rage. At least he'd shown self-restraint: Stiles was sprawled on the floor, but he wasn't bleeding, and nothing had gone crunch.

Not yet, anyway.

out of { words }:

well I got a spare muffnut. ACCEPTABLE REWARD y/y??

w t f 

your-throat-my-teeth replied to your post:

#COME ON S #YOU CAN DO IT #PUT A LITTLE #WORK INTO IT #and we'll reward you with fucking dog statue restaurants

3: A hug.

"..."

It wasn't so much the red hood and the hand-basked that made Derek's eyebrows attempt to gravitate into his hairline. It certainly wasn't the ratty red Converse. It was more the tiny--tiny--red skirt, with just a hint of white lingerie something peeking out that made Derek want to slam the door in Stiles' face.

"These are really not the life choices you should be making based on peer pressure," Derek said, trying to sound anything but mortified about Stiles' bare knees and surprisingly hairy legs. "Here."

A box of Dunkin' Donuts went into Stiles' basket, along with a baggie of chocolate-hazelnut 'bullets' that he'd poured himself.

The year had been rough. And Stiles had been alright. And Derek was a little off-kilter, so he dragged the gangly kid into an awkward, brief hug.