Alexis Stejskal


Like a Daisy. Simple yet beautiful

Ask me anything

jaclcfrost:

going to college is great

getting married is great

having children is great

but implying that there’s something wrong with people who don’t want to do those things and that they’ll never feel fulfilled in life if they never do those things is not great

Tagged: accurate post is accurate

Source: jaclcfrost

Stiles Stilinski’s expressive face appreciation post

Tagged: teen wolfstiles stilinski

Source: lonewolfed

dollophead-parker:

stfueverything:

ppgfreak85:

One of the BEST ad campaigns about representation I have seen.

Everyone has a backbone. Use yours.

I can’t possibly love this enough

it’s back 💜

Source: gleekylittleoncer

deans-cass:

tuesdays-we-wear-trenchcoats:

deansass:

winchestersauce:

asdfghjkl-i-cant:

justdestiel:

yesbecausereasons:

lanuitdecastiel:


misha-bawlins:


camuizuuki:


YEAH, THAT’S COMPLETELY HETEROSEXUAL
#my ship doesn’t even need manips


It was almost not completely gay, if it weren’t for that swallow.


MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS



let

me

just

add

a

few

more

because

just

look

at

 them


Y’all are forgetting

one of the most important

ACTUAL BONERS ON THE SHOW

FROM LOOKING AT CAS

WAS NOT A MANIP
CAN I GET A HALLE-DESTIEL-LUJAH?

LETS NOT

FORGET

THESE

ONES

SERIOUSLY

THOUGH

SEASON

8

IS

ONE

BIG

FANFICTION


THIS IS MY FAVOURITE POST. OH MY GOD.

what about:

and


BEST POST EVER

GREATEST POST FOR ALL YOU DESTIEL SHIPPERS

deans-cass:

tuesdays-we-wear-trenchcoats:

deansass:

winchestersauce:

asdfghjkl-i-cant:

justdestiel:

yesbecausereasons:

lanuitdecastiel:

misha-bawlins:

camuizuuki:

YEAH, THAT’S COMPLETELY HETEROSEXUAL

#my ship doesn’t even need manips

It was almost not completely gay, if it weren’t for that swallow.

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

MY SHIP DOESN’T NEED MANIPS

image

let

image

me

image

just

image

add

image

a

image

few

image

more

image

because

image

just

image

look

image

at

image

 them

image

Y’all are forgetting

image

one of the most important

image

ACTUAL BONERS ON THE SHOW

image

FROM LOOKING AT CAS

image

WAS NOT A MANIP

CAN I GET A HALLE-DESTIEL-LUJAH?

LETS NOT

FORGET

THESE

ONES

SERIOUSLY

THOUGH

SEASON

8

IS

ONE

BIG

FANFICTION

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE POST. OH MY GOD.

what about:

and

BEST POST EVER

GREATEST POST FOR ALL YOU DESTIEL SHIPPERS

Source: pzeiko-archive

hunger games au: last year was child’s play

based on this post (x)

Tagged: yes

Source: tobyregbo

— Are you really going to leave all of this up to a couple of kids?
— They’re more capable than you think.

Tagged: teen wolfcolor envy

Source: kirasyukimura

helenish:

Look at these two stayin’ alive motherfuckers, completely 100% believable and realistic as high school juniors, not as a couple of guys recruited straight out of college into undercover police work, walking back from the gym, Stiles saying,

"Hale’s involved, I know he has to be—I just need to figure out how to get close enough to figure it out—" and Scott’s going to worry about him, that maybe he’s getting in too deep, and he’ll be right, because Stiles has already brought Derek lunch, just coming by to see him at his studio, where Derek makes meticulous models of half-burnt houses, cuts up musty books he buys at library sales into wolves, spreading oak trees, creepy art work Stiles doesn’t really get, but he knows what it means when Derek looks up at him, puts down his x-acto knife. 

He kisses Derek—has to, to get close enough to be invited to meet Derek’s friends, get a look at the inside of his apartment—but he doesn’t fuck him. That’s crossing a line. He thinks about it, what it would be like to take Derek to bed, but he doesn’t do it. He tells Derek he wants to take it slow, if that’s okay. Derek smiles at his feet and says yeah, sure, okay, if that’s—yeah, of course.

Derek finds out the worst possible way, of course, probably when he gets kidnapped and it’s Stiles who shows up and gets him, wearing jeans and an agency windbreaker, grim and angry and cutting the ropes on Derek’s wrists, and then the part where Stiles shoves him down hard behind a table and shoots someone—

"I thought—" Derek says, numbly, sitting numbly on some concrete steps where someone else in a uniform told them to wait, "I thought you were a social worker."

"Yeah, I’m—not," Stiles says. He’s all banged up. There’s a cut on the bridge of his nose and his knuckles are scraped raw. 

"You didn’t want me to know?" Derek says, and then he sees Stiles’ face and he knows, he knows what it looks like, his family, the connections to the Argents, all the deaths, he knows. "Oh," he says.

"It wasn’t like that," Stiles says.

"You were using me to get closer to—or. You thought I had something to do with it," Derek says, his voice wavering, breaking.

"Derek, I’m sorry," Stiles says.

"That’s why you wouldn’t—" Derek draws in a short, hurt breath. "I believed you, that stupid fucking story about how badly you’d been hurt," he says. "But you just didn’t want to fuck me because it would have screwed up your case."

"Derek—"

"Fuck you," Derek says. Stiles watches him walk away. Two weeks later there’s a box on his desk at work: a sweater he left at Derek’s once when the weather turned unseasonably warm, the whisk Stiles bought for him at a stoop sale when they were out one Saturday, just walking around. It was 75 cents. That’s it, that’s everything. Stiles never stayed over, never had a toothbrush, never left any other clothes. 

He keeps the whisk—something like a reminder to be less of an asshole. He clips the newspaper articles about Derek’s gallery shows, keeps them in a neat little stack tucked into a book.

He thinks about what it was like, kissing Derek, the way Derek would sigh and shift towards him and open his mouth, how badly he wanted to fuck him, how he’s a lying sack of crap. 

A year after that Kate Argent breaks out of prison. Stiles is working a 36 hour turnaround in New Orleans and doesn’t even hear about it until he gets back, and by then Derek’s been gone for 12 hours, the back door of his studio hanging open, cut paper littering the floor, fluttering out into the alleyway behind the studio in the late afternoon dark gold sunlight, where they used to sit on crates and drink beers, where—
They find him, of course they find him, three awful days and a hundred bad leads later, Stiles running on fumes and the nap Scott forced him to take on the lumpy break room couch. Derek is slumped on the floor of the warehouse when they find him, eyes closed, and it takes an age for Stiles to slide down on his knees next to Derek, to put his hand on his shoulder and turn him over, expecting—when Derek opens his eyes, Stiles can’t hold it back, the audible sound of relief.
"Did he say it?" Scott wants to know at the debriefing. They let Derek take a shower in the locker room and now he’s wearing agency sweats and a t-shirt he’s pretty sure belongs to Scott, eating takeout from the italian place around the corner.
"Say what?"
Scott sighs. “He was supposed to say “We have to stop meeting like this.”“
"Why?" Derek says.
"You know what, fine," Scott says, aggrieved. "I give up."
*
They let him go and he goes straight to the studio, even though it’s nearly nine at night. Stiles is there, straightens guiltily. The floor is clean, the broken pieces of a few of Derek’s works stacked neatly on a table in the corner.
"I thought you’d be a few more hours," Stiles says, his hand tight on a the broom handle. "I wasn’t—I didn’t want you to come back to it—"
"We should stop meeting like this," Derek says.
"Okay," Stiles says. "Sorry, I’ll just—I’ll go."
"Wait," Derek. "I meant—"
"Oh," Stiles says. "Oh, were you doing Scott’s shitty line?"
"Yeah," Derek says. There’s a long, weird, silence.
"I dunno," Stiles says finally. "I think maybe that line only works if then the credits roll, like, immediately after."
"Probably so," Derek says. He gets the dustpan out of the closet, and they sweep up the last of the paper together, move the table back against the wall, tape up the broken window pane, working in companionable silence.
"Thanks for finding me," Derek says, quietly, smoothing down the last piece of masking tape on the window, glancing up at Stiles to find him leaning against the wall, smiling a little.
"Anytime," Stiles says.
ROLL CREDITS.

Tagged: where's the fic?!

Source: alphalewolf

geeksotospeak:

THIS IS PROBABLY THE FUNNIEST CARD I’VE EVER PLAYED IN CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY

geeksotospeak:

THIS IS PROBABLY THE FUNNIEST CARD I’VE EVER PLAYED IN CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY

Source: geeksotospeak-inactive

Tagged: teen wolf

Source: ultraviiolett

turnpikedarling:

You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.

Tagged: teen wolfa little more than you bargained for

Source: turnpikedarling