Sluhshii



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  1. Public Bookmark 79

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    15 Jan 2018

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    There were no last words. No more pleas, no more screaming. Just the sound of Stiles squeezing the trigger, the explosion of a second shot rocketing out of the revolver, and the hunters bursting through the open doorway just in time to see the bullet slam squarely into the center of Derek’s chest.

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    08 Jan 2018

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    “It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”

    “Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”

    “I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”

    “There are worse ways to die.”

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    07 Jan 2018

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    The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it’s not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper.

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    07 Jan 2018

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    January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

    The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

    So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

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    06 Jan 2018