Follow posts tagged #spontaneousfangasm in seconds.

Watch You Go.

James doesn’t recognise the man who has Q by the throat - not that it matters, really, when he has his fingers closed tight around Q’s windpipe. Later he will ask M, will demand an explanation, will learn about the darker parts of Q’s past that Q had never quite got round to telling him about, but here, now, all that matters is that Q’s scrabbling has started to slow down, his body jerking uncontrollably at the lack of oxygen in his blood.

that awkward moment when your friend says she ships you and the guy you think of as a brother

I HONESTLY CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT. I MEAN WHAT. Like I'm wondering if they've actually seen some of the stuff out there, because good lORD, THE WAKE UP CALL THEY'RE GOING TO GET. But what if the person who they have read it has never even heard of any of the above, and then suddenly, 'oh hai, do you like knotting'. omg this is making me cry. I am in love with mtv.

No seriously, speaking as someone who once worked for an ad agency that dealt with the bare minimum of social networking, they know.

Just going off of how they respond to things, how they’ve replied to fans, how they handle their twitter: They have people on staff whose job it is to know everything about us. Any time the words ‘teen wolf’ are posted on a social media /networking site they probably get alerts on their research programs.

Without a doubt they have dug in and found out many many things about what the fans want, especially Sterek.

I honestly think they know what they’re getting themselves into. I REALLY THINK THEY DO.

spontaneousfangasm asked you: Derek/Stiles— Derek goes to see a horse race. Stiles is the jockey on the horse he bet on. He wins.

once in a blue moon; a sterek drabble (ish)

Derek doesn’t like people. Derek’s list of things he likes even less than people in general consists of small, screaming children and slow moving pensioners. Laura’s hanging off his arm, thrilled by the atmosphere and the sights and sounds of the race course. She’s managed to convince him to come down to watch the last race of the day, and Derek’s regretting every single footstep that draws him further from the entrance. Derek watches his sister taking it all in with a slightly manic grin on her face, wondering how she can possibly focus on anything; Derek’s own senses are being assaulted by the stench of horses and burger stands, the dizzying milling of at least three societal classes of people, the chatter and buzz of everyone talking at once.