gummy lips

Petname Babygirl II pt.2

yoongi x reader

genre: smut, punishments, dom!yoongi, sugardaddy!yoongi, boss!yoongi

warning: dirty talk, choking, hitting

word count: 7.8k


You discussed the rules of your agreement before turning overtime into sexual favours in behalf of the man who pays you for your body.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! Can I request RFA boys reacting to MC's lipstick leaving a mark after a smooch? ;)

Sure! We added Saeran cuz we were in the mood. Lolol Enjoy~


Zen:

  • You two had finished up a lovely dinner date
  • He invited you back to his place afterwards
  • You two were just supposed to talk over a small dessert, but one thing led to another and you two were kissing on the couch
  • You had to take a break for air, but Zen was eventually ready to dive back in
  • But before he could, you started laughing
  • He asks you what’s wrong, and you keep pointing to the edge of his mouth
  • He pulls out his phone to check and finds your lipstick smeared all over his mouth
  • He smiles before snapping a few pics proudly
  • He thinks it’s kinda cute because you’re basically showing your mark on him and he loves it

Yoosung:

  • He had forgotten his notebook at home
  • You being the nice girlfriend you were, you drove it over to his school
  • He met you in your car, and since he had a few extra minutes, he crawled into the passenger seat
  • He gave you a peck to say thank you…but he gets a little eager
  • Next thing you know, you’re mildly making out in your car
  • Now he’s running late for class
  • Before you can warn him, he’s already out the car
  • He slides into his seat a few minutes early and his friend is smirking like crazy
  • “What?” Yoosung asks
  • His friend gestures to his mouth, “You have a little something–er–everywhere…”
  • Yoosung quickly pulls up his camera, his face blazing when he sees all your lipstick marks on him
  • With an embarrassed squeak, he runs to the bathroom to wash it off…even if he kind of liked the fact that there was a reminder of you on him

Jumin:

  • You two were spending a relaxing evening together after a long day at work
  • He had brewed his special cup of tea for the both of you
  • So you two were just enjoying each other’s company in the kitchen
  • He was just looking at you and his emotions kind of got the better of him, so he leans forward for a kiss
  • He tries to pull away, but you grab his tie and pull him back for another…and another…and another…and, well.
  • When you two finally break apart, he’s a little dazed with a soft, gummy smile
  • But his lips feel a bit tingly
  • He originally thinks it’s because of your kisses, but when he goes to brush his lips with his finger he sees the color
  • Turns out that tingling was the slight lip plumper inside your make up
  • Also Jumin never looked so good with wine-colored, plump lips 


Seven:

  • You were getting ready to go out so you were peacefully putting on your make-up
  • Seven caught you in the middle and decided to bother you a bit
  • He started pecking all over your face until you finally pushed him back
  • There’s a smudge of lipstick from when he caught your lips and you can’t help but laugh
  • But then he presses a more serious kiss to your lips
  • Things get kind of heated after that and you both forgot about the make-up for awhile
  • You end up rushing out the door a little late while he tries to get back to some work
  • Vanderwood ends up stopping by and before Seven can prepare for another lecture, the other just freezes
  • Vanderwood shakes his head, “I think your color is more of an autumn.”
  • Seven is confused until he looks into the mirror later
  • He laughs and finds it nice at the same time that you’re leaving evidence of your own
  • It’s really hilarious…until he can’t get it off
  • You come home later and find his entire face is just smeared red

Saeran:

  • You two were just having your usual evening together
  • Movie leading to relaxing…relaxing leading to something more
  • After you two were done with your smooching, you settle back into a relaxed silence
  • That’s when you notice your lipstick smeared on his mouth
  • You didn’t really want to point it out, scared he might get annoyed
  • But in the end he found out when he wiped the back of his hand on across his lips
  • He stares down at the color and blinks
  • You’re waiting for his frustration to come out
  • But instead he grabs your hand and wipes his mouth on your hand and wrist to get out the remaining color
  • You still think he’s annoyed still, but he just chuckles, “At least my lips are moisturized…”

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

I started this animation a little over a year ago….featuring gummy bears! Hence why he has no pupils. it was meant to be for the 11 second club competition but again, just did not have time to participate again. This isn’t the only 11 second club incomplete I have too. I’m really trying to finish both anyway because I’m long overdue for some new animations. My reel’s feeling a bit stale.

This and another segment were the only two parts I had fully animated so far but this was by far my favorite little snip it. I wanna work on making my acting better but it’s getting there I guess. 

Dicking Down to Wifing Up

“Horan! Hurry the fuck up!” Harry yells through the door. “People are starting to show up!”

Niall looks in the mirror and adjusts his quiff a bit, “Coming!”  He just had the blonde redone and was more than ready for their house party.

Harry snorts from the other side, “Sure thing. Just don’t leave a mess.” He jokes and Niall hears him go down the hall.

He rolls his eyes and leaves the room. You said you were going to be coming to the party and he was looking forward to that. He had been trying to convince you for the entire semester to attend a variety of the parties that his frat put on.

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Dean/Cas: With A Heart On Fire

For tattooedbrothers, who commissioned firefighter!Cas. (info here)

Dean needs a last-minute speaker for Career Day. Charlie suggests he ask the handsome fireman across the hall. 2K.

“How about Sam or Jess?” Charlie asks, voice sounding tinny on speaker.

Dean sighs as he returns to chopping onions for his pasta. “Already asked,” he replies, slipping on glasses to keep his eyes from watering. “He’s at a conference in New York and Jess has an interview she can’t push back.”

“Too bad,” Charlie clicks her tongue. “Could’ve told your kids that they’re Matt Murdock and Lois Lane.”

Dean huffs. “C’mon, Charlie, I need you to brainstorm here. Who else?”

“Maybe Benny? He’s a baker, ergo awesome by default.”

“True, but he’s already signed up,” Dean says. “His daughter Sofie’s in my class and I’m officially out of options.”

There’s a brief pause then Charlie speaks again, conspiratorial. “Well, you do have one other option,” she says. She can’t see him but Dean gives her a pained look nonetheless. “No, Bradbury. Don’t even try,” he warns.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” she protests, only Dean does know and there is no way he’d ever agree. “Dean, come on,” Charlie whines. He can imagine her rolling her eyes. “How long are you- It’s been almost a year, dude,” she sighs, “and he’s dreamy in case you haven’t noticed that either.”

“I’ve… noticed,” he answers softly, resigned. “I just… Charlie, he’s right across the hall from us. We always run into each other and it’ll be mortifying once he rejects me.” He cringes at the thought alone and moves to set the knife down with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“Why do you assume he’s going to reject you?” she asks. They’ve had this conversation but he hates it every time.

“You’ve seen him too,” is all he says, along with an excuse about finishing dinner, but by the time he’s hung up the phone, he’s lost interest in cooking his food. He shuts off the stove and takes the trash out instead.

It’s on his way back that Dean notices the package by the door, tucked against his neighbor’s wall and wrapped profusely in hot pink duct tape. He wonders who could have sent it - a friend, probably, or maybe a girlfriend. He frowns.

Still, he ought to let the guy know that the box is there. It’s simple, neighborly duty - the reason Dean finds himself ringing the doorbell to 3B - and he’s halfway to regretting those choices when the door swings open and - “Dean?” - Cas squints at him over the threshold.

“Um, hi… Cas,” Dean greets helplessly, because Cas is standing there bare-chested, barefoot, just bare everything save for a pair of black sweatpants. “I… I, uh… Sorry, w-were you asleep?”

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Totally Unexpected (bh6 Hiro x Reader)

Late nights are usually Hiro’s best times to go out and just go on a stroll. Or, for this time at least, go find some gummy bears. His older brother practically ‘molested’ that last bag of those delectable sweets just a few moments ago. So, Hiro thought he’d get some by himself. He looked left and right, past those neon lights and through the convenience stores, but its as if a gummy bear shortage happened when he was off saving the world. Just one bag, he said desperately to himself, or a piece.

“Aghhhhh!” the agitated boy muttered, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

For a few more minutes, he strolled down the streets, almost unaware for the fact that it was getting a wee late for him. But, being a teen with raging hormones, almost the same intensity as a girl would, he kept looking. He was craving for it. Willing to do a backflip if he could. And just when he thought he lost hope, one store caught his eyes. He turned his head to look at it. It wasn’t really that of big for a convenience store.

But the sweets aisle was visible even from a few feet away. And sure enough, he had seen what he was looking for. Gummy Bears. Just one more pack.

And like lightning, he dashed for the door, and almost broke his shoulder just pushing it open. He neglected the clerk’s uncomfortable stare at him, his feet carrying him faster than he could comprehend. Now, the sweets were just an arm’s length away, and so he reached out his hand to take it. It was more than a miracle to him just to see him getting closer to it.

“JUST A FEW MORE INCHES!” a huge smile was forming on his face.

But he stopped. He was finally near the pack of sweets. But what he saw wasn’t his hand grabbing the pack. Another hand was grabbing it, which in fact got there first than Hiro did. He was baffled, he couldn’t believe he was outrun by whoever that person was. He then turned his attention angrily to that person, but he paused just at the sight of the face of the person.

A she. A girl. Looking flushed, as if she had ran for the pack herself. Her eyes were looking directly into his, only with a hint of possession over the gummy bears, her soft lips letting out hitches of breath rapidly. Strands of her hair were dangling loosely from her face, although messy, looked perfect on her. She looked, just his age. For Hiro, she was captivating, but that didn’t hinder him from taking those gummy bears off her hands.

“Hey, I saw that first.” he said flatly.

“No.” But even with just the sound of her voice saying one word captivated him even more, making him widen his eyes and blush a bit, “I got it first. Go get another one.”

He gave her a look, pretending to look around the area and back at her with a haughty smile on his face,. “Hmmm…oh my! I cannot see any more packs around here, even anywhere else!”

The girl was in fact displeased by his response, and shoved the pack in her pockets. A smug smile was on her face, almost taunting the 14 year old with her stare.

“Well. Get it from me then.”

Hiro paused, and scoffed at her attempt. “O-oh, I’m sorry…'lady’. I don’t hurt girls.”

Steroetyping. This only ticked off the girl even more, and did not whatsover make her give the pack. Hiro was surprised to see her bend forward a bit, and taunt him. Challenging him to chase after her. If only Hiro wasn’t desperate, he wouldn’t get into trouble with this. But alas, he was. So he swiftly lunged at her, but as if she had ninja reflexes, she dodged him in a blink of an eye. Again, he attempted, but she swiftly slid to her right.

Then it hit him. It was on.

“Alright. You asked for it.” he warned her.

He lunged forward to pin her down, but she had turned to her heel and dashed off around the aisles. Hiro was fast enough to get on his feet and run after her. He saw her turn to a dead end, and thought she was trapped. But when he thought he had finally won, she adruptly landed her feet right on the walls and jumped over one aisle. Hiro stopped dead in his tracks, utmost shock running up on his face. The girl landed successfully on her feet, and through the other aisle, looked at Hiro with a confident smile on her face.

“Come on! Can’t you give a boy a chance?!” he tried to convince the girl.

“Give the boy a chance…” she gesticulated sarcastically. “Nope. Supposed to be the other way around, nitwit.”

It came to the boy that she wasn’t was she looked like. She’s skilled. A fighter, likewise to him. He liked this, though, a challenge he thought he had won but turned up with an unlikely twist. So he turned to see if the girl was still there, only to see no one at the other aisle, followed by a simultaneous pattern of beeps. The boy ran to the counter, his eyes landing on the silhoutte running away into the dark alleys.

“I won’t chase after her, if I were you…” the clerk trailed off, looking at Hiro warily.

But only to receive a smug expression from the boy’s face.

“I’m desperate.”


***


“Well well, look who’s bac-HIRO?!”

There Hiro stood, at the top of the stairs and in the room, with scratches all over his arms and legs, dirt clinging on his cheeks, his hair messier than it was before. The elder brother looked at him, eyes widened both in shock and anger of what stupidity his brother had done yet again. Seeing your younger brother, at 12 midnight, looking like a huge mess wasn’t okay for Tadashi. So yes, it had hit him that Hiro did something stupid, again. He gave him a look, and grabbed Hiro by his arm.

“Where.Have.You.Been.” he sternly asked Hiro, who only gave him a shrug.

“I was only looking for gummy bears. After you ate mine.” Hiro intonated the last sentence clearly to his brother.

“Looking like that?” An exhasperated sigh was heard from Tadashi, his hands rubbing his face. “Aunt Cass is going to EAT UP this whole place if she saw you like that!”

“Nope. I avoided her by climbing up a window. It’s your fault, anyways!”

“I didn’t KNOW, okay Hiro? But you didn’t have to go out and do something idiotic…AGAIN.”

Tadashi only shook his head and turned around. How stupid his brother was for getting into…whatever he got into for a pack of sweets. He always knew he’d do something like this over something he desperately wanted to have. It was in his nature, a part of Hiro; he knew he couldn’t stop him from doing that. Accepting the fact, he sagged down on his seat and turned his attention back to Hiro.

“Is there something that I need to know here, Hiro?” Tadashi threw a piece of cloth for Hiro to wipe the dirt off.

The younger brother had caught the cloth and only looked down on it. “Well…” Hiro’s voice sounded unsure, and this Tadashi knew. “…n-nothing really.”

“Then how will you explain…” Tadashi paused, and spread out his arms at Hiro, “..this?!”

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly the point. Explanation, now.”

Hiro sighed, knowing that his brother will continue on to pry him even if he didn’t want to. So he had no choice but to explain.

“Okay…okay…so I was out, you know, a-and I couldn’t find a single store with any gummy bears, but I found one store, with one pack of it and…”

Hiro paused, embarassed by the fact that a girl almost outwitted him, and not wanting to tell his brother. And another thing that he was frustrated about. Something he never wanted to happen, well because he was annoyed of that girl, but it happened. He liked the girl. Had developed a liking for the feisty one.

“And?” Tadashi said, raising an eyebrow at Hiro.

“…a girl got it first. And I-”

But instead of Hiro hearing Tadashi scold him, Tadashi had bursted out laughing. Hiro stopped, and looked weirdly at his brother. He felt himself blushing in embarassment as he continued on laughing. But luckily, his older brother had stopped, tears brimming on the edges of his eyes, as he caught his breath to face Hiro again.

“That’s sucks man…” Tadashi looks at the younger boy still blushing and looking down at the floorboard. “Hiro?”

Hiro looked up at Tadashi, and only shook his head. “I-it was nothing. But…who is she though?”

Tadashi’s eyes perked up at the sight of Hiro wondering about, well, a girl. It seems that Hiro had developed a liking for this girl. At a very young age, on the record.

“S-she was, fiesty and all. And she, she was not just a pretty face, Tadashi!” Hiro had pointed out with a tone, as Tadashi approached his brother and leaned in. “She was like…a-a ninja. I didn’t get the pack…”

His elder brother knew for sure that Hiro liked the girl. His brother, only 14 years of age, has now developed his first crush, only to a girl who beat him in the chase. A grin spread on his face, as he layed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and with a chuckle, he said:

External image

“Hiro, you just experienced something totally unexpected.”


blehhh, I tried so hard! /( > - <)/ anyways, here ya go go! Hope you guys enjoy it! And ye, you a ninja skilled girl here lmao.

STILL IN LOVE WITH HIRO OMFG I CAN’T BYE

Forbidden

I know I have a shit ton of requests to do… but I really wanted to just put this up. I will get around to all the requests in the next two weeks, they will all be done. I promise!! 

Oh and guys, I’m so fucking happy. On the first of January 2017 we had 50 followers, which was amazing. But we now have 450, IN SUCH A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME. I can’t even begin to thank all of your, seriously. I am so so thankful, to all of you who like, reblog, comment, request and personally message me. I am so so grateful! I love you all, you beautiful people!! 

BTW, I don’t know what this is. Nonetheless enjoy! 

Originally posted by yoongles


When you are told you can’t do something, you want to do it more, right? When you are told you can’t have something, you want it more, right? Well, in your case its a person. You are told to stay away from him, hes bad news, he’ll never get anywhere in life. Said the people don’t even know the person, and you believed every word that came out of your parents mouths. To stay away from these thugs… 

Your little story starts in school. You weren’t the smartest in your year, but you put in your given effort and achieved at a well standard. You tired your best, that’s all that matters. It was in your senior year when it started, you met him, well formally met him. Min Yoongi. 

The infamous bad boy, he was in a gang, he had piercings, tattoos, he could knock any wanna be bitch out. He was cool to say the least. No one ever questioned him to why he would miss so many days of school. There was crazy rumurs about him, for example he was a drug lord, sure… He never confronted that shit, because it was just made up shit. 

You had to admit, he was good looking. His hair never stayed the same, going from mint to grey, to blond, to black. No one ever knew what to expect with him. You did feel your self draw to Yoongi. He wasn’t your average bad boy, he fucked around but he didn’t lie about it. Before he had sex with a girl he would straight up tell her, I won’t call you, I won’t even talk to you if we were in the same line at Mc D’s. At least he was honest. 

You knew he was dangerous and if he got the chance, he would probably break your heart. You did notice him staring at you when he would come to English class. His stares would make your skin itch with need to be touched by him. He was dangerous, he was forbidden and delicious. 

But you didn’t want to be fucked around with, you pity those girls. The girls that didn’t get that you can’t change him, you won’t, so move the fuck on and stop friend zoning the boys that would do anything for them. Like bitch please.. 

You were sitting in your English class,  your favourite class of the day. Your teacher was rambling about a shit poem about flowers and how they die. Sometimes English was boring… But you still listened and enjoyed… and argued about how you think the poet feels with your teacher. He was here today, Min Yoongi. He was sitting at the back with his gang, talking which really pissed you off, like fuck off. Why come to class if your just going to talk? You wipe your head around to see Yoongi staring directly at you. Why did he always stare. You quickly turned back around in your seat and listened to your teacher drown on. The last bell of the day finally went. 

You packed up all your shit and made a b-line for your locker. You were safely at your locker, putting what you needed in your bag. You slipped on your jacket, grabbing your keys. Suddenly, your locker door slams shut. Your being turned around by your shoulders and pushed against your locker. You open your eyes to see Yoongi. Hes smirking down at you, with his pierced lips.. Flawless. 

“Hey babygirl.” He swiftly says. 

“Babygirl? Who, me?” You scoff. He displays a bright, gummy smile across his lips. 

“Yeah, you. Look honey, there’s this party tonight and I won’t you to go.” He leans down to put his lips on the shell of your ear, he kisses it softly. “We don’t have to stay long. I know somewhere private we can go.” This cocky ass bitch. It bit have your panties wet as fuck though. You push him back. 

“Listen, honey! I’m not a hoe ass bitch you can toy with, okay? So go find your self someone else to fuck with.” You grab your bag off the floor and walk out towards your dads car. But Yoongi grabs your wrist and whirls you around. 

“Y/N, I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t think about doing inappropriate things to you, because I do. I’d say your a wild one in bed and taste glories. But we don’t have to do anything. I think you’d like this little club I go to. Its kind of… lets say exclusive. Just hit me up if your going to come.” Yoongi lets go of your arm and walks in the other direction, getting on his motorbike and riding away in rapid speed. You stood there for a minute before getting into your gathers car. 

“Who was that, Y/N?” Your fathers eyes have a hint of anger and a sprinkle of annoyance, nothing new. 

“Em.. hes a boy in my English class. Hes cool.” You state. 

“Y/N, those boys are trouble. They do nothing but cause trouble, don’t be getting involved with the likes of him. Its your last year, you need to find your self a nice boy, like James next door. I don’t want to see you with that boy again. understand?” You rolled your eyes and stuck your earphones in. 

What was so bad about Yoongi, apart from a few these he was normal. So what he had piercings and tattoos. He was showing off himself with his body. You felt drawn to him. You felt a buzz in your lap. 

Unknown- Honey, its me. Wear something just for me tonight. 

You giggled at Yoongis message. You knew he probably did this with every other girl but you couldn’t help your self. He was someone that was different and afraid to be. 

One night couldn’t be so bad.. right? What your dad doesn’t know won’t kill him… 

You- I’ll see you later. 


A/N- So, I’d love some feedback, should there be a part two? Thank you again to all the people that followed. I hope you all enjoyed!! 

-Admin Abe x

lostwithoutmyanchor  asked:

The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

Thank you @ssree for proofing and for listening to me whine about this one for this long. Because people, this one was a nightmare and I’m never ever doing something like this again T.T

Right, wrong and everything in between.

Prompted by@lostwithoutmyanchor: The prompt I mentioned: Maybe Steter - meeting online in a supernatural forum/chat. maybe AU meeting first time or somewhere in canon and them not realising who the other is.

Peter supposes that as a baby, there must have been some moments when it happened, but as far as his memories go, he can’t actually remember a time in his life when he was truly happy. He came too late, too unexpected, too different, and his parents, who were thinking about retirement in a couple of years or three at the most and an easy life where their toughest choice would be whether they wanted whipped cream with their pancakes or not, never were able to forget that he was the reason they couldn’t do that. Which Peter resents quite a bit, mind you, because it’s not like they didn’t do it anyway, pawing him off to Talia again and again.

And Peter guesses that he wouldn’t have minded if Talia had cared for him beyond an abstract sense of responsibility towards her family, if she hadn’t been barely a teenager (and later an adult, when Peter would finally stop trying) that didn’t want to be saddled with a baby brother when she had other more important things to worry about like school, her boyfriend, her cheerleader competitions, college, her marriage, alphahood, her pregnancy.

(But never Peter).

And so, what Peter remembers about his childhood is the burn of disappointmentpainanger when he’d try his best to be the ideal son (perfect grades, medals at competitions, always helpful, tidy, calm), and it only seemed to earn him the opposite effect when they left him even more alone. Needless to say, he stopped being a child pretty early and by the time Laura came along and he suddenly was expected to help take care of her because she was a precious baby that needed to be loved (what’s wrong with you Peter?), he had developed a hide thick enough to not rage inside about the double standards.

Except they’re paying attention to him now and Peter feels about to burst out of his own skin.

They’ve made him what he is. He’s a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He’s loyal but distant, he’s dependable but vicious, he’s smart but devious. Everything he is is a direct result of their actions but they keep asking what’s wrong with you Peter?

It was their choice to make him the enforcer too (theirs, always theirs) and at the time Peter stupidly thought that maybe he had found his place finally, that such a position in the pack would earn him recognition (instead of the love he used to want, but that’s fine, because he stopped wanting it a long time ago) and respect. Or shouldn’t they be grateful that Peter keeps the pack safe at the very least?

(Apparently, even after all these years teaching him better, Peter still hasn’t learned. Shame on him.)

He comes back breathless and shaking from exhaustion after taking on a witch that wouldn’t heed Talia’s warnings about leaving their territory and they look at him and ask what’s wrong with you Peter? An omega tries to trespass and Derek is on his way, so Peter does what he must, leaving the kid covered in blood by accident but otherwise unharmed, and they ask what’s wrong with you Peter? And it can’t be said that Peter doesn’t learn from his mistakes, because he steps back and dials it down a notch, but they still ask what’s wrong with you Peter?

And so, he feels cornered because their eyes are on him at all times -and why the hell did he wish for their attention before? It’s unbearable!- and nothing he tries seems to be the correct answer. Because either he’s too vicious or too soft, either he’s too violent or too inefficient, but neither of those or anything in between is the right option and it’s driving him insane.

And Peter is a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist and a cynic. He’s distant, vicious and devious! But he’s also loyal and dependable, and, above all, smart and knows himself enough to know that he’s almost at the breaking point and he might do something he will regret later, so he leaves.

(Because shortcomings apart, they’re still family, they’re still pack, they’re still his, for the better or the worse.)

Which is why he’s sitting on a swing at a park downtown, almost at the edge of town, contemplating his options. Because the reality of it is that if he leaves, he’ll become an omega unless he finds another pack that will take him in. In normal circumstances, Peter knows he would have been able to prove his worth, but with the pull Talia has, who would dare take him in and go against her? Peter’s lips pull into a snarl, because he himself is partly to blame for that. While Talia has gained a lot of respect for her ability to perform a full shift and her upfront way of dealing with the problems that come her way, Peter is the one she’s sent into the shadows to do the dirty work for her when her method failed, effectively cementing her image as a powerful alpha. So, essentially, Peter has made his own bed and now has to lie in it.

A hand comes into his direct line of vision and Peter startles, instantly on guard, because he never heard anyone approach, and he should have, no matter how distracted he was. He frowns suspiciously when it turns out that the hand belongs to a five (maybe six, he does look around Cora’s age) year old kid that’s handing him some gummy bears with a face devoid of any emotion. Whatever his age is, it’s way too late for a kid this small to be out at this hour of the night, Peter notices, but then he remembers his own childhood and keeps silent.

“What’s your name?” the little boy squeaks suddenly, hand still extended towards him. “Because dad says I can’t speak to strangers but if you tell me your name then you won’t be a stranger anymore and then I won’t be talking to a stranger and breaking the rules anymore.”

“Peter,” he answers blinking before he can think of it, too thrown off by the speed of the kid’s speech. “And I don’t really think it works that way, kid.”

“Hi, Peter, nice to meet you,” the kid continues unfazed, reaching to shake his hand and leaving the gummy bears behind when they unclasp hands.

The boy nods self-satisfied, as if having remembered to fulfill the social niceties is a success for him, and then he proceeds to hop onto the free swing beside Peter. It takes him three tries to actually achieve that but Peter manages to keep a straight face despite feeling his lips wanting to twitch. Then he tries to sway but he’s too short and his feet don’t reach the ground, and finally Peter snorts softly and reaches to give him enough momentum to be able to swing by himself as he sticks one of the gummy bears in his mouth.

“Thanks, sir,” the kid chirps.

The boy continues swinging silently for the next five minutes and Peter honestly doesn’t know why he doesn’t leave, because if someone finds him with an escaped kid in the middle of the night there’s going to be hell to pay. And an escapee he is, of that Peter has no doubt. More over, this is not the first time he’s done this either because he’s way too calm about being alone in the dark and too prepared, which tells Peter even more about him, because he remembers doing the same when he was a little older than this boy, and knows the difference between hiding and “hiding”. And the kid is hiding for sure. He’s not trying to manipulate his parents emotionally by disappearing on them, he really doesn’t want to be found and has come accordingly prepared to last all night. He has somewhat warm clothes, food, drinks and has chosen a secluded park where no one will think to look for him, but secure enough that if something happens he has a lot of places to hide and a 24h fast food joint just across the street where he can ask for help if he needs to.

(Smart kid.)

A normal person would call the police. Peter, who thinks more of whatever the kid may have left behind, who can see himself in him and knows that some kids aren’t really kids and can take care of themselves, doesn’t.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

They sit in silence for a bit and Peter tries to think about his own situation but his mind is blank. For the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to do and now that the anger that had pushed him before has burned out, he just feels numb. He rubs his forehead tiredly and sighs. The little boy, who had let the momentum die a while ago and now was just content swinging his own legs, as if he couldn’t keep still, reaches to place his backpack on his lap and then rummages inside until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He takes a batman tupper out and offers its contents to Peter after a little hesitation. Peter declines and the kid shrugs and starts eating himself. Then he blinks, stops and reaches to pass Peter the rest of his gummy bears. Peter’s lips twitch involuntarily and he takes the offered treat with a murmured thanks.

Much later, he hears a car coming down the road and looks in that direction, pondering if he should warn his little companion or not. Noticing his attention is elsewhere, the kid blinks at him quizzically.

“Car,” he murmurs finally making up his mind, and if he had any doubts about the boy’s situation, they get completely erased when he springs from the swing and hurriedly runs inside one of those domes with a lot of holes that Peter has never bothered to learn the name of. “Well,” he sighs and goes after him, because why the hell not at this point? It’s not like he wants to have to answer to any questions if it’s a patrol car, after all.

It’s a tight fit and the boy is looking at him very intensely now, as if he’s trying to understand why would an adult hide, because he probably thinks what every kid thinks, that adults don’t have to respond to anyone and can do whatever they want. But he seems like a very smart boy, so maybe he thinks Peter is a criminal? In any case, whatever he’s thinking, it’s obvious he makes up his mind about it quite quickly, though, because he looks inside his backpack again and passes a bag of chips to Peter before going back to his own food.

“Well,” Peter sighs again, because this is a new low for him. He was supposed to be on his way to a new life and instead he’s hiding with a five-maybe-six year old kid at a park in the middle of the night and eating said kid’s provisions too.

He opens the bag anyway.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He looks at the boy’s tupper absently and ponders about it. Peter has never had one of those, his have always been generic. For his birthday he would get clothes or practical (impersonal) things, always hastily bought items when they finally remembered his birthday must have already passed because it was November already. This boy has a batman hoodie with batman pajamas and shocks underneath and a batman tupperware. The clothes look slightly small on him and the tupper is on the small side too. Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but he’d bet that things started to change at home when those still fit him.

Peter wonders which is worse, not having ever been loved by family or having known the feeling and then losing it.

His phone rings and he sighs. He considers not picking up, but then he admits to himself that if he really was going to leave, he would have already done so by now and wouldn’t be lingering around. He picks up.

After he hangs up, he closes his eyes and just concentrates on his breathing for a minute. When he opens them again, the kid is looking at him and there’s something like recognition in his eyes. Peter takes off his red hoodie to drap it over his little shoulders when he catches a shiver running through his small frame and then turns to leave without a backwards glance.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He sighs and then sticks his head inside again. “Listen, kid,” he starts and then bites his lip. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Whatever is happening to you, it’s not your fault. They’re the adults that should be taking care of you and there’s nothing more you have to do but be the way you are, ok?” The boy is not breathing, Peter can tell. His eyes are almost impossibly wide and his hands are clenched around the tupper. “There’s nothing wrong with you, ok?

“But-”

“No,” Peter cuts him implacably. Because the kid could be a devil for all he knows, but if at five-maybe-six he’s so skilled at hiding, at escaping his own home, and police aren’t swarming the streets after the almost two hours they’ve been here, whatever is wrong is not his fault. “There’s nothing wrong with you.

There’s a pause and the boy finally unclenches his hands. He swallows forcibly and for a second his eyes don’t leave Peter’s.

“There’s… nothing wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Exactly,” Peter nods as he turns to leave. “Take care, kid, and don’t forget that.”

“Peter?” He looks back towards the boy and finds himself caught by eyes that know more than they should. “There’s nothing wrong with you either, right?”

“I-yes,” he stutters caught off guard before taking a deep breath and regaining his footing. “There’s nothing wrong with me either, kid.”

“Ok,” the boy nods and Peter suddenly remembers how to breathe. “Goodbye, Peter.”

And so Peter leaves and goes to search for Cora, who isn’t in her bed and no one has seen her since the movie night ended half an hour ago. He finds her “hiding”, apparently sulking (and not just a little frightened about being alone in the middle of the night despite her thunderous scowl) because she’s grounded for pushing one of her classmates to get a toy she wanted, grabs her by the ear and takes her home.

Things don’t get any better on the family front after that, but Peter doesn’t care anymore. He’s still a neat freak, an obsessive perfectionist, a cynic, a sarcastic shit. He’s still loyal, distant, dependable, vicious, smart and devious, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. So when Talia tells him to take care of this or that threat, he does it and doesn’t care about the looks he earns for his methods. And when she orders him to take care of the Paige issue (because she’s always the white queen and Peter has to be the black knight), he does so without contemplations, and when they ask what’s wrong with you, Peter? afterwards, he says nothing, which will always be is his shameless answer no matter what happens onwards.

If the closest he can get to happiness is by achieving mental peace, Peter will take it and be, well, happy.

And then he’s on fire, everything is on fire, the pain is unbearable and it just won’t stop. At some point, when he can’t feel anything anymore and the screams have died, he briefly wonders if the kid had more luck than him before he welcomes the blessed darkness that closes down on him.

There are intruders in the house and it’s Peter’s job to stop them but the pain is unbearable and everything is in burning hot agony and Peter can’t move. Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop. Peter can’t stand it, Peter can’t move, Peter is being dragged away, Peter can’t protect his pack.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter screams and screams. The remaining pack bonds stretch thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner. They snap. He howls. He tries to grasp them but they slip through his fingers like sand. He howls and howls and howls.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter is trapped, he can’t move, he’s alone, defenseless, vulnerable. He rages and screams and howls but no sound comes out of his mouth. He wants to rip, to avenge but he’s useless and his pack is dead.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter will tear them apart, he will. And he will enjoy every second of it. His fangs will bite into flesh, his claws will tear into them, and he will make them feel every ounce of pain tenfold. One by one he will hunt them down and he will make them regret ever thinking of hurting his pack. Hurtful and dismissive and infuriating, but his. His and no one else’s. They will pay for taking them from him dearly.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(Everything.)

For the first time in years he can move. The window is open and he surges through it. His legs give out and he grunts upon impact. He forces them to support his weight and pushes himself until he reaches the edge of the woods. The earthy smells assault his nose and the soft sounds of the forest fill his ears. He howls at the moon, high, high in the sky.

(No answer comes.)

Peter resists the temptation to rip the woman’s throat out and goes towards the woods instead. It’s a near thing but for now he needs her, so he can’t teach her how wrong she is for treating him like a dog that needs to be let out to take a piss at night. It will eventually come to that but he will wait until his skin stops feeling like cracking leather, until he doesn’t stumble every few steps because his muscles are still atrophied, until his lungs don’t protest at every effort he makes.

Peter dreams about it, though. Vividly. Her shocked face when she realizes that she has chewed more than she can swallow, her panicked breaths as she tries to flee, her choked screams as his claws tear into her.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

For now he has more important things to concentrate, though, since he has some murderers to hunt down and a pack to avenge. Besides, he has all the time to teach her why prey can’t play with predators after she has outlived her usefulness.

A month passes and he has yet to kill his nurse, who still treats him like a dog, who still acts like she has the upper hand, who still thinks that she will get what she wants. So, so stupid, but she’s still surprisingly useful for now so he ignores it. Instead, Peter digs and digs until he finds the ones responsible for the fire.

All things considered, it’s disgustingly easy. He gets his hands on all the reports and news articles on the fire, and he comes to a clear conclusion: someone either bribed the ones responsible for writing them or they doctored the evidence before the officials arrived.

It gives him a place to start in any case.

He tracks down one of the culprits to a seedy bar on the outskirts of town. It doesn’t take him very long to ascertain that the man is drinking in an effort to drown the guilt he feels for having participated on the whole thing, even if he only faked the information in the report.

Humans are funny things. The man wishes to atone for his sins so much that he even wants to die, but when faced with the real possibility of dying, he fights tooth and nail to survive. Which suits Peter just fine, because he wants to make them experience the terror, the helplessness and the pain his pack felt along with the asphyxiating certainty of defeat in the end.

He directs the terrified man to where he wants him and then he even lets him have some advantage before he gives chase. Peter makes him run for hours until the man lets himself drop in exhaustion to the ground, now too tired, too certain of his imminent death that he can’t care anymore. Peter makes him care once more and then, only then, tears into him, pacing himself to make it last. Ultimately, the man dies of shock, his heart giving out, rather than because of the wounds Peter inflicts on him.

With the information he got out of that man, he tracks down a bigger prey, one that participated directly in lighting his house on fire. He learned his lesson from his first prey and knows to push him only so far before getting his hands on him. When he tires of the chase, he bites into his ankles so he drops to the ground with a scream, his tendons ripped and unable to run anymore. If the man wants to move he’ll have to crawl, but before he makes it anywhere he’ll die of bloodloss. That certainty is so, so sweet… but still not enough. Every new sound Peter extracts out of him is as satisfying as the last one and he only laments that he can’t get more out of him, that his fragile human body breaks so quickly under his hands. He’ll do better next time, but for now he’s satisfied with having extracted more names from him before he lost his voice.

Then, one day, Laura appears and whatever good remains from the Peter from before the fire suffers a swift death just then when he realizes that it wasn’t that he had been left packless because everyone had died, but because he had been abandoned; when he learns that she’s only back because the news of the killings had reached her (the markings he instructed his nurse to leave on the animals to draw the ultimate culprits out calling her instead), not because she had finally come back for Peter.

He suspects it never even crossed her mind, just like with Talia a long time ago. But what did he expect? She (they, all of them) was taught that way, made that way just like Peter was made by them. But Peter learned from his mistakes so Laura will too?

What’s wrong with you, Peter?” she asks horrified when he tells her why he killed those men, and then she refuses to avenge the pack. “I’m the alpha,” she growls. “I forbid you to continue.”

Peter blacks out for a moment. When he comes back to himself, he feels nothing at the sight of his dead niece. Some part of him is vaguely dissapointed that it doesn’t feel cathartic in some way that his claws took her life for her transgressions but, honestly, he feels nothing besides the need to scoff at the look of surprise and betrayal that will be permanently engraved on her face.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Peter is stronger, faster, more powerful than he has ever been! It’s an exhilarating and euphoric feeling and he can’t have enough of it.

But he can get even better if he gets his own pack and since Peter has always been a firm believer of taking advantage of the opportunities that rise around him, there’s no time like the present. He lunges forward towards the boy -Pretty healthy if with a slightly weak-looking body. Smells a little like medicine, but unless he has some mental illness, the transformation will take care of it. If not, Peter will take care of him like a good alpha should, and teach him to use what he has. If he dies, he will try again.- and he doesn’t even get to scream before Peter’s teeth are sinking in his side.

The kid takes off running. Peter is very amused at the pup and entertains the thought of playing with him for a while, but he can hear people drawing near and it’s not like the teen won’t come when Peter beckons him tomorrow anyway, so he lets him slip away and returns to his hospital room even though he wants nothing less. However, since he wants the pleasure of seeing Kate Argent’s surprised face as he rips her throat out when she inevitably shows up, he’ll bear with it for now. Which, sadly, also means that he can’t get rid of his nurse either despite being self-sufficient again.

Well, they do say that what resists you is sweeter in the end.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Well, look at who decided to finally show up.

Derek has grown up a lot since he saw him last, about six years ago. Gone are the baby fat and the awkward limbs but the bunny teeth that Peter used to vaguely find somewhat adorable remain. Viciously, Peter wishes Talia was still alive to see her son, to see what her ways brought upon them, what her negligent teachings resulted in. A mediocre daughter that couldn’t even keep up with the most basic duty of an alpha (never leave a packmate behind) and a stupid son that trusted the hunter that killed them all, that’s what. And now said daughter is dead and said son doesn’t look capable enough to survive by himself. Peter really wishes he could bring his sister back from the dead to see, because this is ultimately her fault and it’s not fair that she got the easy way out as always.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He has the sudden urge to just gouge his nephew’s eyes out when they land on his scarred face and the nearly asphyxiating scent of despair and self-hate that clings to him threatens to overpower Peter’s sensitive nose. He can’t feel that remorseful if he’s showing up now, probably just because Laura has dropped out of the radar without warning.

He contains himself, but just barely. It helps that Derek merely stands there looking at him just for five minutes, making no move to speak, and then leaves. If he had tried to touch him, he doesn’t know if he’d been able to restrain himself. Peter doesn’t like to be touched nowadays. It’s more than enough that he has to bear with sponge baths, with being positioned here and there by complete strangers with no say whatsoever for the sake of keeping the farce up. If the touch wasn’t so clinical the walls would have been painted red a long time ago, and that may still happen if a certain nurse makes another crude joke about some parts of his anatomy.

Peter’s lips curl derisively for a second before he schools his face into a neutral expression once again. He lets his hands relax too when he notices he’s about to twist the metal of the wheelchair out of shape.

He wonders about what he should do about Derek. His first instinct is to kill him, of course, because Derek is not pack and is in his territory. Besides, instincts aside and on a more rational note, he doesn’t have any delusions about his dear nephew’s reaction when he finds out he killed Laura. And he will, that’s for sure, because they aren’t pack anymore (if they were, Peter would have felt the bond with Derek at the same time the alpha powers settled, but nothing was there until that boy’s bite took some hours ago and that fragile link sprouted to life), so there’s no way the alpha powers would have gone to Peter instead of Derek if she had died naturally, and he can’t sell someone else killing her and him taking revenge for her since he has already feigned still being comatose. However, after what he’s seen in the scant minutes he was here, Derek might actually welcome death as it will be the end of his suffering and Peter doesn’t want to give him the easy way out.

Choices, choices.

Well, Kate Argent is bound to appear soon and if Derek is here, she’ll be inclined to think it was him who killed those people. Leaving his nephew alive instead of killing him or driving him out of the territory might prove to be useful to keep her attention off Peter while he approaches her.

If he proves to be too troublesome, Peter can always change his mind at a later date, after all, and drive him out of the territory.

The boy comes only once, completely feral and out of control, and, of all things, tries to save the bus driver from Peter. He bats the unruly pup away (he doesn’t know better, after all) but in the end he has to leave because the boy is so out of it, so defensive, that to get what he wants he’d have to kill him and Peter doesn’t want that. And even though the need to rid the world of that scum that is cowering and smelling like urine is almost irresistible, it’s not worth the price right now. Besides, either the bus driver will die before help arrives or en route to the hospital, or he will end up not very far to Peter’s own room, and his nurse has to keep being useful unless she wants to become expendable, after all.

After that incident, the boy won’t come no matter how many times Peter calls. One part of him is peeved about the insubordination, but the other is reluctantly impressed because it demonstrates a great deal of the self-control that he lacked on their first encounter, so maybe he’s had luck this time.

Except it doesn’t take him too long to find out how wrong he is because he couldn’t have found a more asinine teenager even if he’d tried. He won’t submit, it looks like he resents being a werewolf despite all the advantages it has given him (he actually thinks of them as a compensation, which Peter finds pretty insulting, thank you very much) and, worst of all, he seems to share the same stupidity as Derek where the Argents are concerned. Peter would be able to work with that even if it’s not the best foundation to start from, but add to that his obtuse refusal to be taught to round it all up and it makes his first beta a perfect failure.

How disappointing.

Peter is reluctant about how to proceed, though. While he can’t afford to be weighted down by a liability, the boy is just a stupid pup, he doesn’t know better, and however fragile it might be, he’s pack, because that bond is still there. And Peter not only takes care of his messes -because this is undoubtedly his mess; a poor decision made hastily that he won’t repeat ever again, sure, but that resolution doesn’t change that it’s his responsibility to deal with it- but he takes care of his pack no matter how lacking they may be. It’s convoluted, he knows, but it’s how things work, how good alphas must be.

Still, not everything is a loss and the whole situation may be salvageable yet, because the boy with his wayward beta is certainly interesting and could prove to be the piece he’s missing to get his beta to come. With no apparent previous knowledge of the supernatural, he has managed to teach a newly turned wolf control to a certain degree, which is impressive. He also hasn’t chickened out even when faced with a feral werewolf, and that shows a loyalty that Peter values above anything else. Even better, he doesn’t seem afraid to do what’s necessary to keep his people safe, demonstrating a callousness that makes Peter giddy to see what he would be capable of if pushed.

All of which means that no matter how everything evolves, he can’t just take care of one Scott McCall even if he continues to refuse the bond and ends up breaking it completely (thus turning omega and not pack and not Peter’s responsibility anymore), as it will earn him a vengeful teenager with enough smarts to actually take him down. Again, a trait that he appreciates, but not aimed at him.

Well, if the worst comes to happen, there are hunters in town and Scott is dating the daughter of one, so Peter is sure that at one point or another, if he turns omega, he will cross a line and get himself killed and save Peter the trouble. He has patience in spades, he can wait.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

—-

Kate Argent finally comes into town. Peter expected her to come into his hospital room and try something but she doesn’t. Peter doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or not about it, but part of him is relieved, because he knows that if she’d had the gall… And while it would have been an immensely satisfying thing, if anyone deserves Peter taking his sweet time to tear their world apart, it’s her.

In the meantime, Peter tracks down another cockroach of the ones that helped burn his pack alive and goes to pay him a visit. As his claws are tearing into him without contemplations, he catches a wiff of something that is not human in a terrified girl that witnesses the whole thing along with another boy, and he files it out as something to investigate at a later date. He leaves the mangled corpse behind in clear sight, hoping that it will drive the message to Argent. You can run, you can hide, but his is what will happen to you no matter how much you try to avoid it.

Anticipation is part of the game, after all.

But still, Kate is a dangerous animal and confusing her would be worthwhile (and also Peter could use a little less of police patrols going around, to be honest), so he catches a mountain lion and releases it on the parking lot of the school and watches from far away as chaos reigns.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

He expected some kind of action from his wayward beta (prompted, no doubt, by Stiles), but being howled at to be lured at night to school is not precisely what he predicted. Nevertheless, he bites so to speak, and decides to make the most out of it and tricks the Argent girl into the school (maybe if she displays the common attitude of her family towards werewolves Scott will finally wake up?), getting the unexpected bonus of the boy and girl from the store, which is perfect, because he wanted to take a second look at her anyways.

It’s a very… revealing night, that’s for sure.

First, Lydia Martin is a banshee and she doesn’t know it, which can prove to be really useful for Peter at a later date if he plays his cards right. Second, that boy from the store has been scratched by a werewolf (either Derek or Scott, but Peter is pretty sure it was the former) and is exhibiting some kind of reaction to it. Third… he still cares at least a little bit for Derek, which is vexing to say the least.

By all means, Peter should have taken the chance to kill him on that parking lot but he simply incapacitated him. True, he hurt him quite a bit (that he cares about him doesn’t change the deep well of resentment he harbours, thank you very much) but he’ll recover from it given enough time. Why? Derek is proving to be more of a hindrance than anything else, because not only do the Argents already know that he’s not the alpha and are trying to use him to find Peter, but also, by the looks of it, he’s teaching all sorts of nonsense to Scott that couldn’t be more wrong. Which means that either Peter still cares about Derek or he still feels some kind of familiar duty towards his nephew. And he can’t deny this because when he’s shifted he acts more based on instinct, and he stayed away from vital organs… and it certainly wasn’t because he wanted to prolong his suffering.

All in all, Peter is left floundering a little because he has to re-evaluate his stance on this matter. However, before he can decide exactly about how to proceed, he gets found out.

“You must be Stiles,” he purrs, delighted to finally have a chance to asses Stiles’ intelligence in person without any intermediaries.

Except apart from an admittedly good self-preservation instinct, he doesn’t get to find out much because Derek intervenes.

(He sighs inwardly. Always so dramatic, his nephew.)

After the encounter, Peter abandons any semblance of subtlety and leaves the hospital entirely. He has managed to convince Derek that he killed Laura without recongnizing her. It’s a little stretch of the truth, because he obviously knew it was her, but it’s also true that he wasn’t in his right mind when he killed her and he’d have probably not done it if he was. In any case, there’s no way to prove it was otherwise and with the way he laid it out, Derek detected no lie, so Peter is pretty satisfied with the results.

While he waits for an opportunity to take Kate down, he does everything he can to make Scott accept the pack. Peter doesn’t think it will get him anywhere, to be honest, but it has the added bonus of acting as a test for Stiles to see if he will be a worthy beta, because it’s obvious that just winging it won’t work for a person with the kind of luck Peter has. Sadly, Scott is more than proof enough of that. He’s also sure that the only way to get Scott is to get Stiles, because they’re attached at the hip, but at this point he’ll be quite content with only getting the latter.

He tries to make Scott give up everyone in his life and Stiles metaphorically grabs at him and doesn’t let go. It also serves to make his beta stay away from the Argent girl, but sadly, it only makes Scott even more infatuated because of their forbidden love.

He asks Scott’s mother to a date, and the teen in question just gapes uselessly. Stiles crashes his jeep on Peter’s car to stop them from having said date. He nearly laughs delightedly right there.

Derek disappears, so Peter decides to kill two birds with one stone. He crashes their prom night both to attack Stiles’ date (because Peter always has backup plans) and to get Derek’s whereabouts out of him, and the teen bargains for her life, terrified but sure. He gives up a way to locate Derek through Scott’s phone, but Peter can see a plan already forming in his eyes, so he makes the teen go with him, because a person like Stiles can do a lot of damage out of sight, while Peter has control of the situation if he doesn’t leave him behind.

“Do you want the bite, Stiles?” Peter asks instead of simply taking it and the teen says no. He’s lying, he can tell, but Peter leaves anyway. He has more than enough time to convince him later.

(He doesn’t.)

That night, he finally manages to slit Kate Argent’s throat from side to side, so at least there’s that. Unlike with Laura, this time it does feel cathartic because even if he doesn’t get to tear stripe after stripe of skin out of her he can torture her with the prospect of losing her niece. -He instantly wishes he could revive Kate so he could kill her again, but this time drawing it out, just like she executed his pack (imperfect, neglectful, bastards most of the time, but ultimately his) agonizingly slow.- But drawing an apology from her provides nothing to Peter besides the pleasure of getting her to give something she didn’t want to give, so while she’s still conscious, he jumps at Allison, who is going to turn up like her aunt anyways, because that family is a poison like that.

In the end, he doesn’t have time to convince Stiles, after all. He ends up on fire and Derek tears his throat out without an ounce of hesitation, just like Peter did with Kate. The little and deeply buried part of him that didn’t want to kill Derek because it remembered dies a swift death, unlike Peter, who agonizes for a bit still on fire as he chokes on his own blood.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

Getting one Lydia Martin to do what he wants shouldn’t be this easy, seeing the terrifying intelligence hidden under her almost too perfect strawberry blond curls, but it is. It helps that she’s mostly ignorant about the supernatural world and that Peter keeps her terrified enough not to get her footing back, he thinks, because he doubts it would be this easy if she wasn’t. As it is, though, it’s just as easy as getting information from her about what’s happening in Beacon Hills right now.

Part of him considers letting go for a moment, because so much stupidity is unbearable. Really? Peter had thought he had made a bad call biting Scott, but Derek is taking that to a whole new level. Then again, what can he expect? This is Talia’s teachings working their magic, after all. She had barely started training Laura, but she never even bothered with Derek, not even just in case something happened.

(Peter kinda hopes that the afterlife is a thing so that she’s watching.)

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

It’s not like he has any other options, though, because now that the ritual has started he has to finish it or face being stuck in this limbo of sorts for the rest of eternity or, with any luck, until this girl dies. And although with how things are progressing that doesn’t seem too far off in time, really, with Peter’s luck she’ll die and he’ll be haunting this place forever, so he better move things along before that happens.

His nephew’s horrified face almost makes it all worth the trouble and he nearly stays to gloat. Instead, he leaves for now. He’s already been left behind and killed by him once, and Peter always learns from his mistakes… or he tries to anyway, and he can tell that he’s weaker than he was before he was even the alpha, so right now he wouldn’t stand a chance if Derek tried to enact a kill uncle, take two.

He knows he can’t stay away from his alpha (his lips curl derisively against his will) for long, though. Not only he can’t afford to turn an omega right now, but his information about this ritual is limited (which is why he left it as a last resort), so for all he knows, it will unravel if he’s not near the alpha that brought him back and he’ll end up six feet under again and stuck in between. And while he doesn’t want to touch what’s going on in Beacon Hills right now with a ten foot pole, he’s gone through too much trouble to stay alive to let it go to waste. Besides, while he’s not as insane and hell bent on revenge as he was before dying -because there’s no doubt about that, he was completely crazy… so crazy, sloppy and out of control he wants to cringe- he still has a little of that feeling inside. Enough, in fact, to seize the opportunity to take care of more Argents if it wanders by and doesn’t pose a threat to his continued existence. Besides, staying alive as a big fuck you to the family that disdained his ways and ended up dying for not being more like him in the end is something he appreciates quite a bit too.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

So, all in all, he has to depend on Derek for now until he can get himself an alpha to kill and regain his independence again. Which means he has to find out why Derek turned on him at the last minute. He’s not looking forward to that conversation now that he hasn’t the upper hand, that’s for sure.

But before that, he has to know what’s happening exactly to be able to play his cards right. Because as much as he knows the information he got from Lydia to be true, it’s also an incomplete and he hasn’t ever been one to rely on intel he hasn’t acquired by himself anyway.

So information gathering he goes… After getting a shower, clean clothes and a much needed haircut, of course, because he felt disgusting, thank you very much. Maggots and dirt is not a look he favours by any means, after all.

He gathers as much as he can before even contemplating coming back. From what he learns the Argent girl is as much of a psycho as her aunt (who called it? who?), Gerard Argent is the master of the kanima now and plotting something nefarious (nope, not worrying at all), Scott is double playing with him (which ratches up his decision to bite him right to the top of his not-a-good-call list because how can he be so stupid?), two of Derek’s betas are about to risk becoming omegas just to leave this hellhole of a town (which simultaneously makes them idiots and smart and he never thought that possible) while the third is gravitating towards Scott (another idiot), and Derek is as an incompetent of an alpha as Peter expected him to be. Apart from that, the video store boy is the kanima, Stiles seems to be the same and Lydia still doesn’t know why he had to use her for the ritual. Summarised, everything is going to go to hell in a nicely wrapped package and probably over the next few days at the most.

He could have certainly chosen to come back at a better time… if the damn ritual hadn’t had a deadline, that is.

Well, no matter. Peter can use this to his advantage, actually, because Derek will need him in one way or another because of the situation and he won’t be able to say no.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

As luck would have it, just the day he decides to give it a go, Derek’s betas grow a backbone (one Peter still isn’t sure is a smart or a stupid one) and tell him they’re leaving. Peter swoops in while the wound is still gaping open, so to speak, and he gets thrown around for all his troubles. He takes it for a bit, waiting for most of the anger to burn itself out and when it doesn’t seem likely, he finally snaps.

(Because no matter what, the one thing he won’t do is beg.)

It works.

“See?” Peter mutters looking at his reflection with a grimace. The wound in his mouth is still sluggishly bleeding even if it is mending itself slowly. Derek is sitting a few feet away on the stairs’ steps, face stony and silent. Peter doesn’t let it deter him. “Fine example, right here. I’m not healing as fast. Coming back from the death isn’t easy you know, I’m not as strong as I used to be,” he states simply, as if the person that is with him isn’t the one who killed him. Putting his weaknesses in the open leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he sees no other way to put Derek at ease so it’s a necessary evil. “I need a pack, an alpha. Like you.” And God if this isn’t humiliating for Peter, who even at his worst hasn’t ever depended on anyone. “I need you as much as you need me.”

“Why would I want help from a total psycho?” Derek grunts after he scoffs, not even turning to look at Peter.

“First of all, I’m not a total psycho,” Peter corrects him before feeling the need to point out. “By the way, you’re the one that slashed my throat right open, but we’re all works in progress, right? So.” Is there a flicker of regret he sees there? Oh, good, Peter feels better about wanting to find alpha powers somewhere else now that he sees some reciprocity on the familial front. “We need each other. Sometimes when you need help, you turn to people you’d never expect.”

Derek’s shoulders slump a little as his mouth presses into a tighter line and Peter knows he has gained a foothold, so it’s time to use what always saved him the spot in his pack no matter what happened: his knowledge.

He shares what he knows about Scott and Gerard and tells him how to save Jackson, because for all that Derek’s first inclination seems to be killing (which Peter finds equally amusing and hypocritical on his part), deep down he wants exactly the opposite.

Several hours later Peter is regretting deeply ever coming back to life. Jackson is about to turn into a gigantic creature that has wings (which implies flying, as if it wasn’t sufficiently terrifying when it was earth-bound) and they have to rely on Tweedledee and Tweedledum to bring it towards them. Ah, and with the help of Chris Argent, wonderful! If that wasn’t bad enough, Derek is doing as always and rushing in without any plan whatsoever, which is exactly what that geriatric fascist wants. This is the recipe for disaster and Peter can do nothing but to try to stay away from the crossfire and wait for an opportunity to either strike or beat it as fast as his legs can carry him because he really wasn’t exaggerating (if anything, he was downplaying it) when he said he was weak.

Life has never been better.

(That was sarcasm, if anyone was wondering.)

Everything goes to hell, of course, no surprises there. Gerard makes his appearance after making Jackson maim Derek and the little mini Kate doesn’t have any qualms about shooting her first love. Again, nothing surprising there. What is surprising is Scott using Derek to bite Gerard because he wants to be cured of cancer, even more so when it turns out the teen has been switching the man’s medication with mountain ash filled pills so that if it came down to it, the bite would kill him. It’s impressively cunning and Peter would find himself reluctantly impressed if he didn’t dislike the sloppy execution (despite being at odds, no one can use Peter’s family unless it’s Peter himself) and didn’t suspect someone else’s hand at play in all this.

Nevertheless, Peter finds the image of a black goo vomiting Gerard a sight for the sore eyes. A sight that gets completed by the little bitch’s expression of betrayal and self-loathing and Chris’ revolted and pained one. Well, that earns Scott a descend to the still respectable second position on his not-a-good-call list, congratulations.

(Given his previous record, Peter is pretty sure he won’t stay that low on the list for long, though.)

Everything devolves into a fist fight once again and why is everyone forgetting about the psycho bitch that was trying to kill them not a minute ago, Peter doesn’t understand, not even in the face of a common enemy, so he keeps his distance.

Stiles chooses that moment to crash his jeep right through the walls and into the kanima, bringing Lydia with him. Peter would swear he hears a celestial chorus singing in the background, because yes! Someone else thinking with their brains and not their fists! Peter feels even more vindicated when the teen beats a hasty retreat right afterwards, because someone finally has an ounce of self-preservation instincts too!

Lydia goes forward, terrified but unwavering, holding her trembling hand up with what looks like a key. Peter is quite ambivalent about her, but he hopes she doesn’t end up a shish kebab if only so that dealing with Jackson doesn’t become even more difficult. He has already been thrown around quite a bit today and while a bed sounds heavenly right now, he won’t get that until this matter is resolved. And that will happen certainly sooner if Lydia doesn’t end up in a kanima claw skewer.

(What’s wrong with you, Peter?)

She doesn’t and Jackson turns back partially. He nods at Derek while Lydia cries, and while that is clearly a sign of acceptance to his fate, Peter doesn’t want to risk it (especially since Derek goes for the frontal assault as always) so he attacks from behind too. And Jackson dies in a scene worthy of a movie that Peter would give an Oscar to.

Thank god it’s over, Peter really needs that bed and cleaning this mess up is going to take a while.

Except since this is Beacon Hills, nothing is that easy, and Jackson comes back to life a regular werewolf. Color Peter confused, because he’s never heard of this happening… but well, now he doesn’t have to find a way to bring back a body to the morgue, so at least that’s nice? And since there’s no way that Chris Argent will not take care of his father’s body, he doesn’t get the pleasure of burning it either, so essentially the wish of a bed in his near future has become more of a certainty rather than a possibility.

“Is leaving him alive really wise?” he asks, because someone has to, because they don’t know if this change is permanent.

Except for Stiles, who just purses his lips, and Chris Argent, who is as stony as ever, the rest turn to look at him horrified.

“What’s wrong with you, Peter?” Derek hisses.

Peter smiles with all teeth.

(Ah, so it’s going to be this way.)

And now the alpha pack is in town, isn’t that wonderful?

Why was he so adamant on staying alive besides for being a contrary bastard?

(Peter has to remind himself a lot of the sweet sight of a destroyed Argent family these days.)

“What’s wrong with you?” seethes Derek before throwing Peter into a wall and leaving.

Peter picks himself up, a satisfied smirk never leaving his face, and dusts his clothes. Riling his nephew is so easy and at the same time so immensely satisfying… His day isn’t complete if those words haven’t left his mouth and if he gets him to lose it enough to get physical, he counts it as a win, because lately that doesn’t happen that much for some reason he can’t discern. What? He’ll take pleasure from everything he can these days. And since Stiles is here most of time helping with the search of Erica and Boyd, he’s become his unwitting accomplice, because boy, does he irritate Derek. Peter would go as far as to consider it a gift the teen has.

He’ll never admit it to the teen, of course, but he really enjoys the verbal matches he has with him. Stiles has always been mouthy, but now that he doesn’t think likely that Peter will attack him (although Peter knows he keeps mountain ash on himself at all times, the smart kid) his invective is a thing of beauty.

Out of all the people that Peter could have been saddled with, he has been lucky, indeed.

(Part of him mourns that Stiles wasn’t the one out there in the woods or that he didn’t accept the bite when Peter could give it to him. The possibilities… Ah, it would have been glorious, wouldn’t it?)

“Anything you want to share with the class, Stiles?” he drawls to the teen, who has been staring fixedly at him since Derek left to drag Isaac into another patrol through the woods, hoping to find something that wasn’t there yesterday, or the day before, or the day before (and so on) and that Peter bets that won’t be today either.

“You know, I was a kid so I had an excuse, but what’s your deal?”

Peter arches an eyebrow and levels the teen with an unimpressed stare. Stiles huddles in his too big red hoodie and raises both eyebrows at him, unrepentant. Peter blinks slowly, because he wasn’t wearing that before and because it feels familiar. Suddenly, his breath catches because he’s pretty sure that if he looks on the back of it, he’ll find a 01 accompanied by his last name in big bold letters.

“There’s nothing wrong with you? What a load of bullshit.” Peter can’t breathe and he’s insanely grateful that Stiles can’t hear that. “There’s something wrong in everyone, so who fucking cares?

“Wha-”

There’s something wrong in everyone, Peter,” Stiles repeats, his intense eyes never leaving Peter’s, “so who fucking cares? Right, wrong, who cares? Whoever says that there’s nothing wrong with them is either delusional or a child or plain stupid.”

“There’s… something wrong with me?” Peter finds himself unconsciously parroting back and this is ridiculous, this shouldn’t affect him this much, shouldn’t feel as if he’s having an epiphany. “And there’s nothing wrong with that?”

“Not unless the wrong in you tries to have another go at my people, because then my wrong would come out to play, and everything would be wrong with that… for you, capiche?”

“Duly noted,” Peter answers as dryly as he can, because his world feels off its axis right now.

Then, Stiles extends an arm, hand clearly possed for a handshake and Peter is reaching before he can think of it. When Stiles lets go, gummy bears have been left behind.

Peter can’t help it. He laughs.

(And for the first time, he feels happy.)

What’s wrong with you, Peter?

Who cares?

Okay y'all these are the awesome wheelchair pouches I found on Amazon. The first (blue) straps onto the wheel with velcro and has thin pockets that can hold a tablet, thin book, phone, etc. The second (purple) straps onto the arm with velcro and has multiple pockets of varying widths. The mesh bottle holder fits a 32oz bottle. I put my wheelchair gloves, phone, CBD salve, CBD gummies, vape pen, lip balm, and medical mask in here and there was still room for more. Super awesome finds!

hold me by the heart || {two}

What: BTS Fic
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Words: 1.8k
Warning: Strong language, curse words etc.
 


{ONE}


Morning has dawned and now it is time for both parties to face the consequences of last night.

The sun streams through the crack in the blinds and causes Yoongi to twitch in his sleep. His body spasms once more as the words, “Y/N’s boyfriend” reverberate in his skull. He tries to shift more comfortably into the bed to rid himself of the noise but the presence of a warm body tucked into him makes him pause. 

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youtube

5 DIY Lip Balms - Miniature Soda Bottles, Starbucks, Donut & Candy


(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PQl0AANIVc)

Tease 2/3

Pairing: You x Yoongi

Genre: Fluff, angst, high school au, deliquent au

Warning: Language

Status: Previous

!Do not repost!


You were waiting for Yoongi at main entrance of the school, wondering why he was taking such a long time. That man has always insisted that he has to walk you home, or else you might get kidnapped or something. By now, you were already used to all his ridiculous statements.

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Produce 101 and which of their physical traits they will pass on to their daughters
  • Jisung: his extremely v-shaped face, his dimples, his thin lips
  • Sungwoon: his plump and pouty lips, his tiny nose, his slightly puffy cheeks
  • Jonghyun: his hairline (lol), his cute teeth, his angular facial structure
  • Minhyun: his lanky physique, his curved lips, his cute laughter-lines
  • Seongwoo: his not-so-korean looks, his puppy like eyes, his flexible ears
  • Jaehwan: his slender and flexible hands, his off standing ears, his maniac laugh
  • Daniel: his cute front teeth, his round facial structure, his broad physique
  • Jihoon: his uneven double-eyelids, his long and dark eyelashes, his smile
  • Woojin: his cute misplaced tooth, his mono eye-lids, his strong jawline
  • Hyungseob: his button nose, his curled up mouth corners, his raven-black hair
  • Jinyoung: his small face, his pretty tan, that eye tick he has when blinking
  • Daehwi: his one double-lid / one single-lid eyes, his cheekbones, his petite physique
  • Guanlin: his height, his gummy smile, his pouty lips
  • Seonho: his round eyes, his slightly insane smile, his thick hair
  • Samuel: his dark brown eyes, his skinny physique, his beautiful tan
  • # Please don’t be mad if your favorites aren’t included, since I only dare to write about the contestants I am more familiar with. It would be really hard to create a profile for the trainees I don’t know too well. #

But Taehyung spending one night studying for a test with Sanghyuk in his lap and he just can’t help but smile everytime he peeks down to see his son giggling to himself as he plays with his toys. Sanghyuk is literally such a good boy with the way he barely cries or fusses, the toddler is happy with the littlest things keeping him busy, so much like Yoongi.  A little while into the night, Sanghyuk drops his toy to sleepily stare at all the papers Taehyung is writing on. The little boy turns his head to the side confused and tugs on his papa’s shirt to get his attention.

“papa, what are you doing?”

Taehyung smiles at his baby.

“I’m Studying algebra so I can get into a good school and get a good job to buy you more toys.”

Before Taehyung can say more the front door is opening to signal Yoongi finally getting home from work. Sanghyuk jumps from his papa’s lap to run to his daddy who is already waiting for him at the door with his arms open and a gummy smile on his lips.

“DADDY! DADDY! Papa is uh papa is dyeing debra so sanghyukkie can get toys!!”

Yoongi chuckles later as he kisses Taehyung hello.

“Who’s Debra and what color are you dyeing her?”

Gummy Bears With Gummy Smiles

with: Yoongi (BTS)

genre: Fluff

count: 105


Yoongi groans as he stretches across the couch to get to you, laying his head softly on your lap. 

“Ahhh,” he lets out a content sigh.

You giggle, brushing your fingertips through his hair, “Tired?”

He hums in reply, shifting ever so slightly so you could get a better angle. His lips press together and form a soft smile. Your heart melted at the sight, this soft gummy cutie was all yours.

“So cute,” you mumble.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, waving away your comment, but you could see the growing gummy smile on his lips. He really is just so soft and cute!


A/N: hey Chey!! @forever-young-got7 thanks for requesting my love!! sorry this is so short TT come request again!! has my writing gotten better? lol

okay but i wanna know how many pictures of jimin playing or cuddling with holly yoongi has, like i am 500% sure he has a folder on his phone labeled as “the love of my life + holly” or something cheesy that he found on tumblr like “my moon, my sun, my stars, my universe”, please don’t imagine yoongi and jimin being away from each other so they could visit their families and it’s vv late at night and yoongi is laying in his bed listening to the little mixtape jimin made him and he is going through that folder in his phone with the biggest gummy smile on his lips because he is whipped as fuck