Status Updates From Hunger

Yes please.

““You were a total badass today.”
“And so were you,” Melissa tells him. “Being scared doesn’t mean you can’t be brave at the same time.””

I love Melissa McCall.

“Derek and Peter are objectively terrifying, but isn’t it about time Stiles had something scary on his side?
Derek doesn’t make Stiles cringe and cower. Derek makes him stand taller.”

Wow. Didn't see that coming. Awesome!

So that explains Scott.

Okay, when is Derek going to turn into a real boy? I mean, I love their bond as human and "dog" but I want some face time between the two.

Its been a year since I read any Sterek, and I chose this. My heart is breaking a little bit right now

Story is complete and I'm in the mood to get my heart ripped out. LET'S CONTINUE THE STORY! Let's see I ended with chapter 14...

Man, this story is heavy.

This was freaking awesome!!

I need hugs. Lots and lots of hugs.

The wolf’s boy is called Stiles.
The wolf huffs at that.

Stiles.

What is a Stiles?

A Stiles is pack. A Stiles is salt tears and smiles. A Stiles is feet that fall into step with the wolf’s own. A Stiles is amber eyes and pale skin and moles. A Stiles is a tug on the wolf’s instincts, on his aching heart. A Stiles is pack.

*melts*

Thanks for another great read, Lisa (DW)! 😘

Stiles doesn’t know what the future will bring, but he knows that Derek will be there with him every step of the way.

They’re pack.

They’re mates.

Derek says the moon brought them together, and Stiles—cynical, skeptical Stiles—looks into his eyes and makes the decision to believe it wholeheartedly.

The moon knew what she was doing when she led the wolf to Stiles.

Say it,” he whispers as he cards his fingers through Derek’s hair and Derek’s mouth settles over the pulse point in his throat.

“Stiles,” Derek whispers. “My Stiles.”

“My Derek,” Stiles whispers back, and holds him close.

“I need to know, Derek,” Stiles whispers. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the cold wall. “I want it to mean something. I want to mean something.”

Because this will probably be his last chance, right?

Will have to wait to finish this until after I get home tonight...😠

He is like the electricity in the sky before a storm.

He is energy and motion and anticipation.

He is the thunder before it rolls, and the lightning before it cracks.

He is a force of nature, building, building, building.

He and the boy are pack, but they cannot fill all the spaces that their losses have left behind. The wolf’s loss, and the boy’s, has been made by a piercing wound in his heart. It will never heal. It will always ache. Both the wolf and the boy have learned how to breathe through the pain, but it is still there. It is as present as the moon, as the whisper of the wind, as death.

The wolf has no doubt his boy will bring ruin on them both.

It doesn’t matter.

The wolf will stand by him until the end.

That’s what pack is.

Stiles was ten when the Hale house burned down with the Hales inside it. It took two years for the ripple that started that night to turn into the wave that swept his entire life away.

Whatever Stiles is here in Beacon Hills to do, then perhaps the wolf is meant to help him. Perhaps they’re not supposed to shake death after all, but to walk with her. Perhaps the moon will guide them both to a new home, in a place where it isn’t cold anymore, and there is no such thing as hunger and the world doesn’t smell like ashes.

What is a Stiles?

A Stiles is pack. A Stiles is salt tears and smiles. A Stiles is skinny fingers that taste like the grease from burgers, and clothes that smell of stale sweat. A Stiles is feet that fall into step with the wolf’s own. A Stiles is amber eyes and pale skin and moles. A Stiles is a tug on the wolf’s instincts, on his aching heart. A Stiles is pack.

The wolf curls around him when they sleep.

Death steps closer, its black mouth open in hunger.

The wolf growls at it, the sound rumbling through his thin ribcage.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Maybe not this winter at all.

The wolf has a den now, and a heartbeat to share it with.

I AM READY! 😱😘🙅👍

Sigh....

"He misses the way he and his boy shared warmth and food in their little cardboard shelter in an alley. Stiles is pack. The wolf needs pack. The wolf wants to curl up with his boy, and lick his tears away and chase his scent over his skin and press his nose against the soft skin of the boy's throat where his pulse thumps."

So so good. Like that's a shocker. Sad and poignant and anxiety provoking.