#derpha

some meme .

        ❝ Yes, well. That tends to happen to the best of us, doesn’t it. ❞

        He is a mess, really. The tears in his strike wear, the lacerations and contusions — he’s not quite as appealing when he’s as unmarred as he can be, given that now, the permanence of scars etched into his skin beneath the fine fabric of Italian bespoke leaves him with the written memories of missions past. They’re a passing thought, on any given day; it’s the new, fresh scars he catches himself thinking about, bleeding injuries that he begins to think might mark their place upon his skin when they do heal, when gauze wrapping is drawn away from him, and Napoleon is left with yet another reminder of when things could have ended rather badly.

        The note in Derek’s voice leads him to believe that he’s in far worse condition than he imagines. Lovely, Solo thinks, drawing a rag away from his temple, scrutinizing the deep stain of red there; there is not a single doubt in his mind that it’ll need sutures, which is just wonderful, as well as unsurprising. In fact, he’s rather impressed that his skull hadn’t been cracked open with the impact of that messy scuffle landing him against brick. It’s the little things in life, he’ll quip later on.

This plan were simple for Robyn. Go to New York, take his starting classes in NYU now that he has to start in the early summer. Lydia had the plans ready to go for her to come by and visit too, or vise versa! That was also a big thing he couldn't wait for when she came down from Washington. When they talked last on the phone, everything seemed normal, Lydia was registering for those classes on top of packing -- but soon after, communication was scarce for them. He tried texting, calling, leaving worried messages with the never-ending "I miss you, call me!" at the end of each one he left. Robyn is pretty confident that Lydia's answering machine is full by now. No question about that. Then, out of the blue -- a private phone number, and from picking that up, a familiar voice. After so long, his brother finally decides to call him as if he never left... from a burner phone, of all things. The discussion was quick, very sudden with no time to prepare.

“You have a one-way ticket to Brazil in your EMail. Print it out and meet me there. As soon as possible” “But--! I’m in New York--” “Pack your things and get out of there. Now.” This phone call was as quick ending as it did starting, not even a “What did I miss?” in between. But the werewolf knew something was ominous going around. Robyn knows when he has eyes on him, he knows when he’s followed. You can’t get to the airport until you know hunters are already on your tail. Too bad for them, they weren’t as experienced as Robyn had thought. Gerald had filed the order of hunting down werewolves all over, New York included. Scott included. Lydia, included. 

  That feeling when you thought you were way more...

this gif is killing me omf

Get to know the author || Highkey accepting 

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

{ from the same storything as this ask, Identity } 

i’ll fucking go to america and kick their ass

there was a point when he asked me when was the last time you crossed the border? to which i replied, it’s been a while, i don’t honestly remember. 

he basically asked her the same question, because she mentioned that she visits her friend in the us and she’s like ‘ i come over about three times a week ‘ and he just snipped back like ‘ i can see that. ‘

like odd odd or ODD