wolfhowlecho



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    It only took a few more feet of trodding through the underbrush to finally find his dog, and the closer he got, the calmer Peter felt. Otis was still barking, but now he was close enough to recognize that it didn’t sound like alarm. It sounded like something between 'play!' and 'squirrel!'

    Peter realized he was probably spending too much time with only a dog for company.

    “Otis! What is it?”

    The dog was wagging his tail, guarding the roots of a tree, and as he got closer, Peter saw that it wasn’t actually the tree that got him hyped up, it was the shaggy ball of red fur nestled at the base.

    “The hell…”

    It was a small fox. At least it looked small, but Peter had no idea how big full grown foxes were. It looked small next to Otis.

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    28 Jun 2018

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    "So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

    "Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

    "Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

    "To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

    Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

    "It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

    "Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

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    28 Jun 2018

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    Prompted off of this picture: Derek is a mechanic with naughty thoughts and Stiles is a teenager who is trying to not explode from sexual frustration before graduation.

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    05 May 2018

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    The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

    Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

    Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

    Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

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    04 May 2018

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    The alpha crouches down until they’re level. He examines Stiles and something seems to click in his head. He says, before Stiles can ask any more questions, with a nod at Bunnicula, “Is that your Alpha Buddy?”

    “His name’s Bunnicula,” Stiles says around a mouthful of pastry and sugar. Bunnicula is his constant companion, always stuffed in his backpack or hauled along with Stiles in his jacket pocket. Every square inch of him smells like Stiles, from his floppy ears to his velvety pink toe beans. Stiles is proud, especially ‘cause his mom told him that the more his Buddy smelled like him, the easier it would be for his alpha to keep track of it, because otherwise it would just smell like cotton and stuffing.

    Stiles is months off from having his next heat but he likes the idea that even if he has to be alone during it, he would have Bunnicula with him. And Bunnicula would smell like his alpha, so it’ll be like having a little piece of them too.

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    03 May 2018