skinnydefenselesshuman

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Girls being the big spoon, reblog if you agree

#sinday I guess

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

I want to watch our favorite movies together, curled on the couch and giggling through popcorn. I want you close. I want to hear your laugh and feel your hand untwined with mine.

#stupid sappy Stiles! #look it Thiles #Yeah I'm tagging this for you #monsterwithdifferentparts: Theo #Deal With It!

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

#I am so totally about this post and I barely know why #it's because Derek is such a cutie tho #he's a little hedgehog #so adorable!

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

the Purest Scene™

#featuring: #Stiles lowkey hitting on Scott #Scott being totally oblivious #Isaac being amused #Stiles & Scott #Stiles: canon #Stiles: visuals

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

#reblogging from Scott bc they hug lots #sociallyawkwardalpha: Scott #this is the kind of stuff that goes in the desires tag #Stiles: desires

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Scott: If I run and jump at Stiles, he will almost definitely catch me.

Scott: *runs at Stiles*

Stiles: SCOTT NO I'M HOLDING COFFEE-

Stiles: *drops coffee to catch Scott*

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Blind Loyalty | Stiles & Scott

@sociallyawkwardalpha

It made sense to send Jackson and Ethan into the school for reinforcements right away; they could fight. With Lydia to lead them. Hopefully. Stiles stayed in the Jeep, combining the the too-large bags of mountain ash stolen from the militia's prison with the too-small vials that Deaton kept into more reasonably sized containers–seriously, why did no one just store this stuff in a way that was easy to carry into a fight?? 

He looked up at the sound of the heavy double doors opening again, and it was Lydia running down the steps. She practically slammed into the door to the Jeep with how fast she was running.

“Monroe’s people are in there WITH the anuk-ite,” she declared through her panting breaths. “Which means everyone is in danger. We need you.”

Stiles finished screwing the lid on his new handheld anti-supernatural weapon. “I’m on it!”

He scrambled out of the Jeep and both friends ran together into the dark school building. They reached the first major fork in the hallway and skidded to a halt. “Which way?” the human queried. “Do you hear anything? Where’s Scott and the others?”

The banshee cooked her head, her eyes getting that faraway look that they did when she was using her powers. “All I hear is Monroe’s people.” Lydia’s gaze refocused on Stiles for a moment before she gasped, hair flying as she spun to face something down the down the hall that caught her attention. She whirled back to face Stiles, expression panicked now. “I’ll stall the militia. You have to find Scott.” Lydia pointed to the jar of mountain ash in the human’s hands, their only weapon against the supernatural threat, and Stiles the only one who could wield it.

As his childhood crush sprinted off in one direction, Stiles took off down the other hall.

Where would Scott lead it? The whole campus was his territory, the whole town, the alpha could fight anywhere with confidence. But the anuk-ite would be most drawn to Scott if he was in a place where it could make him afraid... What was Scott most afraid of? In the school?

Sophomore year, he always dreaded setting foot inside Mr. Harris' chemistry classroom? The lacrosse field or locker room where Scott was always afraid of letting down his teammates?

But as Stiles' sneakers pounded the linoleum and the cold shiver of fear trickled down his spine, he realized two things that his subconscious already knew:

One: The anuk-ite must have Scott cornered in the library. Where the alpha had once DIED, at the hands of his beta, betrayed and alone, breaking his mother's heart. Where Stiles had once run for his life from a a boy trying to kill him, but killed the boy instead, afraid of what his best friend would think. Where the witchhunts for supernatural creatures had started with random hand-stabbings. Where a bunch of other scary stuff had happened, enough to feed a fear-monster for decades.

Two: It occurred to Stiles that there WAS something that frightened the pants off of him even more than the idea of fighting this monster blind--the thought of losing Scott to it. Making his best friend face his fears, face the anuk-ite, blind and alone. Because even though Stiles could FEEL the chill of dread that froze his bones and spiked his adrenaline, he was only drawn CLOSER to that feeling. Terrifying images of being too late flashed through his mind as he ran headlong towards the danger, because that danger was threatening his Best. Friend.

Almost to the library, Stiles could hear Scott's voice, his tone triumphant, and felt a weight lifting from his shoulders because he WASN'T too late. And in a second he was through the doors, skidding to a stop and sighting his target, in all it’s gross, scary, glowy-eyed glory. He hurled the mason jar of a mountain ash like a grenade, and it smashed on the floor, and Stiles willed it, just like Deaton taught him, to surround his enemy, to keep away from his friend. The ash rose up to cover the monster, which cracked and solidified and screamed, dying (probably, hopefully) a more permanent death. 

And then everything was okay, Scott was oka--shit, “Scott, your FACE!” and the human was sliding across the floor again, arms out to comfort his friend.

#I liked writing this #although I cut out a whole bunch of unnecessary stuff #because I tend to do that to get into headspace for Stiles for some reason #anyway! #I promised you my first starter on my new Stiles url! #Stiles: thread #sociallyawkwardalpha: Scott #t: blind loyalty #v: walk beside me

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

#I can't even with them #Stiles & Scott

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

❤️shoutout to gay people who used to think they were bi 💛shoutout to bi people who used to think they were gay 💚sexuality is complicated, there’s nothing wrong with taking time to figure yourself out 💙you aren’t “adhering to stereotypes” or anything like that. 💜there is nothing wrong with your identity!

#Stiles: about the muse #Stiles: inspiration

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

stiles: isn't that illegal?

derek: what are you? a cop?

stiles: wELL ACTUALLY–

#Stiles: fan edits #Stiles: funny! #FBiles

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

#look it Thiles! #Stiles: visuals #Stiles: canon #Stiles & Theo #wearethestorm: Theo

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

netflix and…rest your head on my thigh while I run my fingers through your hair continuously

#Stiles: musings #sinday is so tame on this blog

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

#Stiles being Stiles

#super important FBI things! #FBiles #I'm giving it a ship name and nobody can stop me #Stiles loves being in the FBI just THAT MUCH #Stiles: visuals #Stiles: canon

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

I don’t really understand what’s going on. I don’t know how to keep everyone safe. I just know that if anyone fucks with my family I’ll kill them.

#Stiles: musings #wow yeah

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Damn

#Derek baby desperately needs a hug

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Reblog if you'd kiss werewolves👀💋💋

#Stiles: inspiration #requisite reblog #wow yep that's just the whole blog

[skinnydefenselesshuman]

Stiles Stilinski was a man of ACTION. Not a child of ‘stay in bed and be coddled.’ That was why he played lacrosse even though he wasn’t very good at it, why he chased after monsters with a baseball bat even though he didn’t have superpowers, why he went skiing yesterday even though he didn’t know how. 

And why he would probably try again today even though he’d already sprained his ankle.

But Scott, who knew him better than anybody, also knew he would try. So that was why Stiles woke to the sound of his supposed best friend trying to sneak off with the ski poles that Stiles had insisted on using as crutches to get around last night. 

To which the human’s obvious response was to jump out of bed and tackle the sneaky werewolf, bringing them both down in a tangle of limbs, blankets, skis, ski poles, and... another ankle sprain. 

With Stiles’ ankle re-twisted, the ‘True Alpha’ got his way when, summoned by the commotion, Liam and Mason lifted Stiles back into the bed, and Malia sat on his chest to keep him from moving, while Lydia lectured, and Scott re-bandaged his foot like an injured puppy. No amount of reason OR whining could prevail after the pack’s protective instincts had been triggered, and it was only for the sake of bathroom breaks that they didn’t literally chain him to the bed with a set of full moon chains.

Once the last slam of the front door echoed silence through the cabin, Stiles swung his legs over the edge of the bed immediately. He was inching his toes to the floor to test his weight on them when he heard the rough voice and turned towards the bedroom door. 

He’d almost say that Derek had been deliberately ignoring him, except that the wolf had pretty much been ignoring all of them, leaving Beacon Hills entirely for the past several months, and maintaining a broody silence ever since he reunited with them for this trip. 

And even though Stiles’ first instinct was to mock him for his loneliness, challenge the omega’s solitude... There was some deeper reason that Derek had come on this trip anyway. And further reason why he had stayed behind with Stiles today, rather than going out to explore the the mountain, with or without the others. And Stiles would never get to know why if he alienated the wolf now--much less make it to the bathroom on his own today, he realized as the pressure mounted in his swollen ankle. 

“Forget that.” Leaning a hip against the edge of the bed to take his weight off the injured leg, Stiles held his arms out to the other man. “Help me out to the fireplace, at least? I can’t just lay in here all day...” 

At the gruff, if usual, expression on Derek’s face, the human added an ingratiating smile. “Please?”

Frozen | Derek & Stiles

@maybemultimuse / @sobriquetcollective | starter for ski lodge things

Derek had been asking himself since the moment he’d caved why the hell he’d agreed to go on a skiing trip with Scott and this mismatched band of teenagers (adults now, but still teenagers to Derek) he called a pack. He had tried to pull himself out of the promise three separate times, but despite his surliest expression, Scott’s puppy-dog eyes got to him every damn time.

And since they’d all piled into a couple vehicles with a ridiculous amount of bags squished into every available space, it had been a comedy of errors. Or it would have been a comedy, if they were happening to someone else. They had to stop and duct-tape the jeep – who had the brilliant idea of bringing that thing up to a mountain anyway? Then they had to get off the highway in a tiny town with one department store because Malia didn’t pack boots. Then they had to go back to it after they were forty more miles down the road because Scott’s beta suddenly discovered that his didn’t fit anymore.

Actually arriving at the cabin should have been a relief – if it weren’t so bitterly cold. And, of course, there was no firewood already prepared inside. Derek had volunteered for that job. At least he got to blow off some steam chopping it. Then, after he revealed to a very dismayed Scott that he didn’t actually own skis, he got a little peace and quiet while they went out on the mountain, before it got dark. They came back before it got dark, too. Because Stiles had – obviously – managed to sprain his ankle.

Everyone was fussing over the pack mascot, and Derek concerned himself mostly with the fire. The heat was something he could control. He didn’t see the point worrying over Stiles when all that could really be done was ice and heat rotations, for the swelling, and ibuprofen for the pain. Otherwise, it just needed time.

Despite their concern the night it happened, though, by the next day, the group was ready to go back out on the slopes. Derek figured Stiles would insist on limping out there to be a cheerleader or something, but Scott pulled Derek a little aside while the others started to collect their things.

“Hey, Derek, could you look out for Stiles while we’re gone?”

Derek scowled at the young alpha. “Why doesn’t he go with you?” Scott gave him a pleading sort of look, and Derek sighed. “It’s not like he needs to be nursed. It’s a sprained ankle, not a heart condition.”

Scott smiled triumphantly. “Then it shouldn’t be too much of a chore, right?”

Derek stared at him. “Are you kidding me? Tolerating him is a chore!”

“Come on, Derek, please? You’re already staying behind, and he’s not going anywhere, so unless you were planning on taking a hike in the snow…”

Derek held his glare for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “Fine. But he’s gonna be just as thrilled about it as I am.”

Scott grinned at him with that obnoxious positivity of his. “I’m sure you guys can find something fun to do! We’ll be back around nightfall, alright?”

Derek just sighed at him in response and watched the group leave. He sulked by the fire, stoking it until it would actually die if he didn’t leave it alone. Then he walked back to the bedroom Stiles had been set up in and leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ice or heat?”

#reposting to Stiles' blog from the multimuse #halesurvivorsguilt: Derek #t: frozen