Tag: Teen Wolf

hatteress:

agentotter:

#this is totally were!stiles being interrogated by the winchesters #and he is giving no answers and no fucks  (via crusingthroughreality)

HEADCANON ACCEPTED.

I really would love to see that crossover, repeatedly, in every possible position. Even if it would end in tears because let’s be real, everything the Winchesters touch ends in tears. Poor little shits.

“Look kid,” Sam says. It’s the third time he’s tried the good cop routine and Dean can hear it wearing thin. “We know you had nothing to do with the murders. But we also know you’re not the only werewolf in town.”

The kid tips his head and sucks on his lips, the total absence of fucks glaringly obvious. Dean is both frustrated as hell and grudgingly impressed because, hell, they’ve dealt with demons less sassy than this.

Sam sighs, and Dean has to cough into his hand to keep from laughing because that particular brand of exasperation is usually reserved for him. “Just be straight with us.”

For some reason, that’s hilarious. It takes a second before Dean remembers the dude they’d seen the kid with before they’d picked him up. Big, serial killer looking guy, sporting leather and a possessive hand on kid-snark’s back. Oh man.

Dean snorts and gives Sam patented ‘what? it’s funny’ shoulders when it earns him a glare.

“Trust me, dude,” the kid says. “I’m being as straight with you as…well, I was gonna say humanly possible but…”

A flash of canines has Sam rolling his eyes and sue him, Dean sorta wants to high-five the kid. You know you’ve been hunting for too long when you start rooting for your mark.

“You’re driving a stolen car,” Sam says. “You’re carrying a fake ID. Every word out of your mouth so far has been bullshit-”

“Says the hunter posing as an FBI agent,” the kid says, tapping a nonchalant beat on his water bottle.

Sam pulls out bitch-face number eleven. “Is anything about you real?”

The kid grins and bobs his head. “My boobs.”

Dean laughs so hard he almost pulls something.

stuffimgoingtohellfor:

zainclaw:

“Where’s your Alpha, Mowgli?”

“MY alpha? I’m not his damn keeper. And whatever he did, I, uh, probably had nothing to do with it.” Stiles pauses. “Is this about the thing with the thing that I TOLD him not to mess with? I am going to kill that fleabag.”

“Get in line,” Dean says. 

“‘Do not touch,’ I said. ‘Paws off,’ I said. ‘This means you, Derek,’ I said.” 

“Kid, are you not seeing this gun in your face?” 

“‘Magic goes boom, makes hunters show up in droves,’ I said.” 

bobbydraked:

Teen Wolf AU ♦ Stiles is already a werewolf and part of Derek’s pack when the Winchesters arrive looking for some supernatural murderers. Sadly they succeed in capturing Stiles and they don’t believe that they haven’t found exactly what they were after.

Dean: Okay, Obi-Wan, cut the crap. Every frickin’ werewolf is the werewolf we’re looking for, which includes you. And I got some nice, fresh wolsbane in these little bullets just for you. So you better start talking.

Stiles: Oh, no need for presents. It’s not even my birthday.

Dean: Okay, enough, I’m gonna beat the crap out of that kid.

Turns out wolfsbane bullets actually do hurt a lot.

queerly-it-is:

halesparkles:

deeply concerned for anyone who actually goes to Beacon Hills hospital for actual treatment, though. like, you’ve got nurses walking round barefoot, girls being carted off to the morgue, kids rising from the dead, people being smothered by pillows, girls vanishing from their showers, fights breaking out in the corridors/elevators and no one batting an eyelid, nurses going nuts… 

like seriously, what is in Beacon Hills’ water supply.

It’s a little known fact that the majority of the staff at the Beacon Hills hospital were hired after the one in Sunnydale uh… unexpectedly closed down.

So all these doctors and nurses and techs, and to be honest even the cleaning staff, are walking around doing their jobs and muttering things like “oooh an alpha pack! scary! pff, amateurs.”

They have a betting pool on which creature will cause the biggest influx of patients on any given week, and they draw straws when someone has to clean up a room after a wall gets knocked down or something destroys the plumbing.

And every now and then, a few of them will crowd into the security office and watch the tapes of teenagers wolfing out in hallways and eat snacks while alphas beat each other up in elevators.

“Did you see the blind guy? He’s with them right?”

“Yeah, but the McCall kid has no idea.”

“Oh man this is gonna be great. Pass me a red vine.”

The ones that didn’t get hired at the hospital were recruited into working on some kind of reality show about a cabin in a forest or something. They don’t hear from those guys very often.

stuffimgoingtohellfor:

“Where’s your Alpha, Mowgli?”

“MY alpha? I’m not his damn keeper. And whatever he did, I, uh, probably had nothing to do with it.” Stiles pauses. “Is this about the thing with the thing that I TOLD him not to mess with? I am going to kill that fleabag.”

“Get in line,” Dean says. 

“‘Do not touch,’ I said. ‘Paws off,’ I said. ‘This means you, Derek,’ I said.” 

“Kid, are you not seeing this gun in your face?” 

“‘Magic goes boom, makes hunters show up in droves,’ I said.”