#;define queueing

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           Dirt covered bare feet moved forward on the            middle of the road and his eyes were open,            glassy, but not focused on anything ahead of him.            From a first look, some might think he was            perhaps a crazed person, taking a luxurious walk            in the middle of the night, though Stiles was well            asleep and unaware of his own actions. But at            least the night was still and there weren’t many            cars that had passed him by, if someone did            pass him, they would swerve to the other side            of the road to avoid hitting him before returning            to the their original lane. Despite that fact, it            was still far from safe for the teen.

[trustyrobin-archive-blog]

           The teen had been pacing around in his room for the longest time, attempting to figure out a nice way to slip out of his bedroom. He had gotten lucky the other day and somehow managed to leave the White House without any supervision whatsoever which was more than satisfying for him seeing as it could become overbearing, but that had also sent his dad’s supervisor into a frenzy to go and find him. She had never let his dad hear about the day his son left without an agent to follow him—she had taken care of everything herself so not the alarm the man of higher power. To make sure Stiles stayed out of trouble, well.. Derek happened.

           The president’s son poked his head out of the door of his room, hazel orbs searching for the taller male, immediately focusing on him. “How long are you gonna stand there? You’ve got to get tired at somepoint, Derek,” Stiles stated, eyebrows quirking upwards as he spoke, leaning against the doorframe. “I mean aren’t you hungry by now or something?”

[trustyrobin-archive-blog]

     So his plan had taken a while longer to put together than he originally thought it would, but he worked days without much sleep trying to figure out a way to get Cora out of the hands of the hunters that had her—researching and making sure his plot was foolproof—or nearly foolproof.  Seeing as part of it involved relying on another person, anything could happen. However foolproof, the end result was to free her, so as long as that happened really, nothing else mattered too much at all.

     Stiles sat in his jeep, eyes on the backdoor of the building she was in. He was waiting for the dark haired werewolf to emerge from the door, hoping that everything would come together and just.. work out for once. When he saw the door opening, he started up the jeep, waiting for her to get into it so he could pull out of the parking lot.

                          “not your ideal getaway car, I know, but                            either you get in or stay a hostage here.”

[trustyrobin-archive-blog]

             For the longest time he’d been standing outside of her office door, hands clasped together in front of him as he played with his fingers, trying to decide whether he should go in or not. Well, his dad was paying for it so he really had to go in seeing as he didn’t want to waste his money—they couldn’t afford to waste the money, but it was just a matter of getting himself through the doorway. At the very least it was temporarily cheaper than Eichen was.

             After giving himself a small mental push, thinking more of what would happen if he didn’t go to the appointment; he finally twisted the doorknob, stepping into the room with little hesitancy. Sepia hues glanced around the room just momentarily before focusing on her—Katherine. “Hi, I, uh—I’m Stiles,” he told her as he closed the door to her room. “Sorry I’m late.”

[trustyrobin-archive-blog]

‘Angst Please’ (Trigger Warning) Your muse walks in on mine while they are sobbing, holding a gun to their chest. (Trigger Warning)

       Sepia hues focus on the brunette standing in the doorway,        eyes brimming over as tears stained pale skin. He moved        his free to dry his skin before shaking his head, lips parting        to speak. “Please go—just go, okay?” he pleaded, voice        barely there. She didn’t need to be there—not for this. He        wouldn’t even be able to bring himself to pull the trigger        whilst she was standing there before him.