#hmnals

[mieczlw-a]

                                             S   Q   U   A   D

                              by  lea   //   by  chels   //   by  ryder   //   by  mela

[angstywarhead-blog]

“ WHAT KIND OF name is  Stiles? ”          @mieczlw   @onlydcfense   @hmnals   /   random shit for u

[awbartonno]

Sb: it'd be so hot to be with twins

Clint: dates triplets by pure accident

[cfashes-blog]

Looks @ that BUTT

“You can touch it if you want.”

[cfashes-blog]

Loving someone is hard. It takes pieces of you, bit by bit over time. It hurts more and more even when it is soft. Even when it’s good. Peter was even considering the probability that is actually hurt the most when things were good. Or at least Peter was strongly considering it right now. Looking at Stiles. Looking at how fragile he was when he was sleeping. How impossible it was to put in words what kind of value he had to Peter in this moment, it scared him. It scared Peter to the point of considering running. 

It scared him that he considered running from what made him feel like he belonged.

Worry filled him. Every fiber of his being vibrating with it. It was beyond a disturbing feeling, as someone whom generally cared for no one but himself. Now he did. Now he cared for someone, whom he cared for more than himself. Biting down on the worry filling him. The bile that filled his mouth with a sour taste. He moved closer. Wrapping himself around Stiles even more. His hands were tight around the hold he had on the sheets surrounding them. His cheek rubbing against a shoulder. Not just marking Stiles with his scent, but easing his own worries with movement. Hiding his face against the crook of his neck. Never had darkness worried him. Never. But why did it now? 

His pulse was increasing, his own thoughts being more than enough to upset it, nerves having him swallow repeatedly, yet no amount of time helped. He felt clammy. Almost sick. He never got sick, so it had to be in his head. Right? It was all in his head. Because of the worry. Worry for Stiles. His well being. How did he eat? Did he sleep? He had been sleeping for so long. Was Stiles sick?

Pressing his eyes shut, biting down on a whine that wanted to escape. He moved closer still. Being more over Stiles than beside him. What may have started as a need to comfort Stiles, was now Peter with a need to feel any sense of comfort and safety.  “Wake up... please don’t wake up... You have to wake up...”

➜  for @hmnals

[frenchones]

shoutout to aly for being a sunny ray of sunshine and is adorable and awesome at both newt and stiles and i love her way too much and she deserves everything good.

@hmnals @helpsthings

what a babe.