fashion, architecture and to play with
photography and photoshop.
Addicted to cappuccino & liferuiners.
the Derek to my Stiles.
“I’ve been in love with her since I was 11 years old, but I didn’t do anything about it until now!” - Tyler & Seana
The doorbell rings.
That’s ominous enough on its own; everyone Stiles knows would have just texted or called and his dad isn’t home. He rushes down and rips the door open just in time to see a black Camaro whip around the end of the street and out of sight. He scowls and looks down to find a flimsy white box sitting on the welcome mat.
Stiles closes the door, goes back up to his room and calls Scott.
Scott answers almost immediately for once, asking if Stiles is okay, which Stiles appreciates even if it is a little annoying. One of the alphas broke his arm, but Scott keeps acting like Stiles has contracted a possibly fatal illness instead of just getting slapped with a cast.
“I’m fine,” says Stiles, “I need you to come over. Derek left something on my porch.”
“What kind of something?” asks Scott.
“I don’t know,” says Stiles, “I mean it wasn’t bleeding when I looked but who knows what it’s doing now.”
