in a s h e s

This is Hale territory.

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{ BE back soon.

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{ friends over (yeah, that's right, I got me some).

replies tomorrow.

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out of [season] | alex

[puerietsudes-deactivated2014021]

Alex spent way too much time shopping. Really. He should’ve been at home studying for his French exam but, yet, he decided that the language of love was way too stressful and buying a few pricey things would help alleviate the most of it. He made his way around a store at the mall, pulling things from racks and observing them briefly before deciding whether they were hot or not.

About halfway through his round in the store, he found himself standing next to someone who looked like he was shopping for a small teen, judging by the clothes he was looking at. He glimpsed over to find that the man was looking at him, almost seeming like he was expecting something.

That’s when he realized it. The man was Derek Hale. Scott and Isaac’s alpha. He cleared his throat a little and spoke up, “Um. … Is there something on my face?"

[stillburnt-blog]

There's nothing on the teenager's face, but Derek doesn't confirm or deny anything when he hears the question, because he'd been expecting something more along the lines of 'How can I help you?'.

Of course, he should have known that the other male wasn't working, but it hardly matters in the scheme of things. He's got shirts, and that's all that matters. Peter will be appeased, he'll have something to wear 29 days a month, and Scott won't be able to smell the lack of control on him.

Derek can't say which is most important.

"It doesn't matter," He offers, turning away after a few long seconds. Something about the boy is familiar, but he can't place it. Maybe it's the cologne. It reeks of Jackson's taste.

"Do you want something?"

[geniuslydia-deactivated20131120]

Lydia raised an eyebrow at his tone, but said nothing about the matter. She figured he had the right to be angry. After all, she did break into his house. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get onto an alpha wolf’s bad side, but so far, she hadn’t laid eyes on Derek’s good side. S

he stood from her seat on the couch and took a small step forward, trying to seem a lot more confident than she was.

But there was nothing she could do to cover up the fluttering of her heart inside her chest, which he could undoubtedly hear.

"Where’s Peter? Is he staying with you?" She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, figuring it was better to get to the point. If he was causing her nightmares and blackouts again, she was going to find a way to make it stop.

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Muscles tense, Derek watches as the blonde alights from her casual seated pose, heart thundering in a way that makes him satisfied, because she should be scared. She shouldn't be here, and if he lets the red ring around his pupils flash for a moment before he responds to her request?

It's pure accident, obviously.

Lydia finishes, and Derek lets her wait for a minute, loosening his belt before he threads it through his jeans, letting it thunk to the floor beside him in a way that's nothing but careless. This is his space. She's intruding. She can deal with his lack of etiquette, and his lack of response.

One minute. Two.

"No," Derek bites out after another moment, amusement raising his eyebrows as he leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets.

He knows that she wants more, but she'll have to ask for it.

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wolfsicle replied to your post: { slowly but surely, man. Slowly but surely.

#\o/ you can do it!

#well #seeing as you believe in me #i can probably do most anything ;) #subtlehugs

[occisionis-deactivated20131024]

{Xander is the worst ever}

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{ let's talk } | Stiles

[stilesbuttinskyarchive-blog-dea]

Fortunate enough  to have kept a hold on the double enforced plastic bag he was holding that more than likely was holding four Monster energy drinks along with some candy. The only thing that was even slightly bruised here was his poor excuse for an dignity. He could have swiftly avoided knocking into someone if he was just looking where he was going.

"—Oh, uh— hey there, Derek." Awkward. At least it wasn’t a stranger — though this guy may as well have been a stranger with how detached he was.

"—Filling your car up? I should probably do that. I walked this time, though. Gas— y’know—getting expensive and all. Sorry about the whole bumping into you thing. Kind of scary at night nowadays so I was trying to watch my back."

Fidgeting with the bag, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and just let the thing dangle off of his wrist. 

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Derek waits until he's sure that Stiles is finished before picking up his ( Peter's ) purchases, placing them on the counter with several distinct thuds. He spares a glance to the coins on the floor before shrugging it off. There's barely a dollar there, and he doesn't need the money.

"You should," The till rings up his total, and he hands the money over without a word. Sadness. The cashier smells like sadness. It's thick, pungent and it reeks.

"Watch your back," Derek continues, finally looking towards the teenager.

It's the first time he's been able to get a full sentence out without being interrupted. 

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"Stiles."

Derek slides into the teenager's room without a sound, coming up behind him as he looks at -

Derek squints - something that he doesn't want to study too closely. 

"I need this," He pulls a square of folded paper out of his pocket, "Looked at."

It's only information about the Witches the next town over, but that's something that Stiles will find out soon enough.

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[ night l i f e ] | shifters

[lupushumana-deactivated20131015]

"I'm just walking around." She stated once more, raising one of her brows. Did he not believe her? "I'm being honest." Verity murmured, crossing her arms against her chest. "And I know you can tell if I'm lying or not. I can tell you're getting frustrated, when I am giving you a true answer."

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It takes all of his willpower not to push the girl up against the nearest vertical object and demand to know where she comes from, and what her intentions are. She smells like something different, new. Wrong. 

"You didn't answer my question," Derek grounds out, before relaxing because he's the Alpha, he has the power here. He should know that.

"Truth can be manipulated."

[shroudedheart]

+ stillburnt

[shroudedheart]

Stiles probably smelled like everything seeing how he knew that somehow he had to cover up the scent of grief. He wasn’t over the fact that Heather was dead, nor that more people would follow.

But there was no time to mourn. It wouldn’t bring her back. 

Taking revenge and making sure whatever it is that’s killing people is out of the field would make him feel better and… — So what if Stiles might not be any better than Peter when it came to the revenge topic. It’s not like he was anything like Peter on other days.

"Well then why are you still following me—Wait no." He put the last bag away and then finally turned around to look at Derek. “Why are you standing there and staring at me? Last time I checked it was still creepy."

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Derek doesn't respond, dropping his bags as he opens his car door with a squeak that he steadfastly pretends that he doesn't hear. The plastic rips as he picks up his canned food, scattering tins through his back seat as he shoves the rest of his groceries through the door.

He wonders why it is that Stiles has taken a couple of steps towards him, when he's supposedly the one doing all the following. It makes the corner of his lips curl up for a second, before Derek schools his expression.

"Stiles," Derek leans back against newly painted metal. He'd ask the boy why it is that he's moving closer, and why his breath's coming unevenly, but it doesn't matter. Not now.

(It never has.)

It makes a part of Derek amused to know that Stiles is possibly waiting for the rest of his sentence.

...

He has nothing left to say.

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s print | solo

The feeling of dirt against his fingers is familiar. Derek’s chest hurts, legs burn-fade-burn with the constant push of his body. He’s not sure how much longer he can run, except that’s a lie because he could run for days, for as long as he wanted. He could break his own legs and stand up tall 5 minutes later. He throw himself off of a cliff and come out unscathed.

It’s nights like this, the quiet, that Derek hates the most because they let him think.

Snarling at himself, he doesn’t spare a thought for his surroundings, losing himself in the trees around him because he knows he’ll be able to find his way back later (he can alwaysfind his way back). Derek skids over leaves, reaches out for the steady presence of his pack to let him know that he’s not alone, and runs until he can pretend that he doesn’t know why he’s doing it. Derek listens to the sound of Isaac, Erica -he lets himself feel for a moment, before he buckles.

Under the light of a moon that’s nowhere near full, his body falls. His legs give out and he loses track of his own heart beat. Derek’s jeans rip and the power, the control, it’s nothing. The way he can’t hold himself up -can barely block him emotions from the rest of the pack -it’s hardly even survival, and he still doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

[america-kate]

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out of [season] | alex

Derek isn't here by choice. He's here because the last Tshirt he owns is scored with claw marks, and he hasn't gotten the internet installed that shopping online would require. The store is bright (too bright), racks of clothing coloring bland walls with one too many shirts on each rail. It takes more time than he'd like to locate the one corner of black and grey.

He's not expecting to have to talk to someone about finding his size, but the choice is taken out of his hands when he looks up, into blue eyes that could almost pass for a Betas.

Great.

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stilesbuttinsky replied to your post: { let's talk } | Stiles

#More than okay. #I love when I get starters.

{ things i'm filing away for future reference.

i just wanted to use the gif, ngl }

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family talks | catherine

Derek doesn't meet people. It doesn't happen. People don't talk to him, because it's easier that way. He doesn't have to find words to respond when there's nothing to respond to.

Why this - this woman is standing in front of him and smiling, he doesn't know, but she's far too familiar for him to feel comfortable. He doesn't know why she's smiling; he's just a stranger who happened to bump into her on the street.

( He needs to be more careful ).

It takes a moment for the word, "Sorry," to leave his lips.

He hasn't said it for years.

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{ let's talk } | Stiles

It's 11pm, and Derek's tired. Exhaustion's seeped into his bones, aching and deep, and things shouldn't be like this, but they are.

{

     He's only here to pay for fuel.

                                                            }

The lighting's dim, aisles damp and dirty. Whoever it is manning the counter smells of sweat and stale beer. There are scuff marks on the floor. The petrol station is one of the only places in town open this late.

                                 ...It shows.

Derek doesn't plan to stay around. Of course, it would be his luck that as soon as he reaches for his wallet, someone bumps into him.

That it's Stiles Stilinski, shifting awkwardly behind him? Even better.

[shroudedheart]

+ stillburnt

[shroudedheart]

Keep walking Stiles. — No doubt Romeo had said the same to Juliet when he creeped on her, too, only not the ‘Stiles’ seeing how her name wasn’t Stiles but… Whatever.

Stiles just rolled his eyes at the Alpha and then shrugged before he did exactly what Derek had asked for. Not because he had asked for it but because he would have done it one way or the other. Seriously, though? Derek Hale doing the grocery shopping? If the teen wouldn’t know it any better he’d say that Derek was getting domestic — Or preparing a ‘I’m a bunch of dicks, forgive me, Beta-Boo’ Dinner for Isaac.

                                                 Or both. But Stiles did know better and he couldn’t help imagining tons of hair products in the bags Derek had been carrying.

When the teen was at his car and opened the back to put the bags in, he frowned at Derek who was walking towards him. He hadn’t seen Derek’s new car yet and a quick glance around showed him that the Camaro was no-where to be found.

"Really now? What’s next? Gonna ask for a ride on the roof of my jeep?"

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Derek can almost see the thoughts bouncing around in Stiles' head. It's loud, and messy, and he smells like --

{ He smells like something Derek can't quite put a name to. Stiles is all over the place. It's irritating. }

                                                       "No,"

After it's clear that the teenager expects an answer, Derek's left with little choice. His lips quirk as he watches the boy load up the jeep that, by all rights, should be in pieces right now, before moving on.

It's a moment before he remembers that he has to unlock this car manually, and that he'll have to drop his purchases to do so.