A howl far in the distance splits the air, and Stiles’ eyes fly open as he shoots back up into a sitting position. The howl is followed by another, and another, and Stiles is left to wonder how many of the howls are wolves and how many are mythic beasts that he knows by name. The forest is in an uproar in a manner of minutes, and Stiles looks up at the bloody red moon gleaming, almost completely taken over by the fire of the eclipse. –
Red moons are apparently not a good time for alphas. Derek shows Stiles what a feral, aroused werewolf looks like up close.
small boob privilege is so real like…. bralettes… underboob tattoos… going braless?? not looking hyper sexual at all times ???? running comfortably? i could go on
a paper mache bucket ... tumblr mirror 