dunbarimagines
Dunbar Imagines
I don’t write for this blog anymoreThank you for everything <3
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my first piece on this blog!! thought i’d bring it back because i haven’t looked at it in a while and it’s so angsty (depressing start to this blog lol)
hope you like it!!
Count on That (Sad Stiles Imagine)
Hiiiiii this is my first story and I’m really excited.. This is something I thought about when I was listening to These Four Walls by Little Mix. I hope you enjoy!! Ellie xx
warnings: mentions of death, heartbreak, blood, cursing
I feel so numb
Staring at the shower wall
It’s begun,
The feeling that the end has come
And now the water’s cold
I only turned away for a minute. Stiles was fine, he was safe. By the time I had looked back and seen Theo, Stiles was already on the ground. In that moment, seeing the blade reflect the moonlight, covered in his blood, time just stopped. I ran to his side, taking away his pain, begging him not to leave me. I was there to see the light leave his eyes, to hear him take his last breath. I held his cold hands in mine as his plaid shirt became soaked with blood. I watched as they took him away.
My pack, my family.. we were there, but we weren’t, too consumed by devastation and heartbreak to think clearly. I must have sat there for hours, before I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Scott. The moment I looked up, I could see myself reflected in him. His cheeks were tear-stained, eyes red and foggy as he enveloped me in a hug. I could feel his head buried in my neck, feel the uneven pattern of his breathing as he released all the feelings of remorse and frustration at not being there to save him, to save his brother.
I lay in bed
Can’t seem to leave your side
Your pillow’s wet
From all these tears I’ve cried
I won’t say goodbye
It’s been four days of sleeping in Stiles’s bed, of holding his pillow and hoping I never forget what he smelled like. Every morning, I come down to the breakfast table to sit with Sheriff Stilinski because I’m worried what will happen if he is alone, if I’m alone. Everyone, Lydia, Liam, Mason, Malia.. even Scott, have returned to school, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to see an empty desk where he should be. I don’t want to walk into the lunchroom and feel his absence. I don’t want pitiful looks from students and teachers as I try to hold myself together.
And I, I can’t come alive
I want the room to take me under
‘Cause I can’t help but wonder
What if I had one more night for goodbye?
If you’re not here to turn the lights off I can’t sleep
As I’m laying in bed, caccooned in Stiles’s blankets, silent tears streaming down my cheeks, I hear my phone vibrating. Picking it up, I hear Liam, with sadness and empathy in his voice, say Scott has called a pack meeting at his house.
With a deep breath, I get up and put my sneakers on, throwing Stiles’s favorite flannel over my tank top and heading to my car.
When I pull up to the McCall residence, I see everyone gathered outside. Why isn’t anyone talking? What is this meeting about?
I get out, greeted by a tight hug from Lydia. She whispers, “Babe, I know you are hurting, so I’m here for you,” pulling away with a sad smile.
“Thanks, Lyd,” I reply, with a squeeze of her hand. “So what is this meeting about?”
Scott steps forward. “I called this meeting for everyone. I want you all to know that, as your alpha, I will always be here for you. I can smell the heartbreak and regret coming from all of you,” and with that I look around. Mason and Lydia are looking at the ground and Liam and Malia are nodding along with Scott’s comment about chemo signals. Then, out of sheer habit, I keep looking, expecting my eyes to be met with kind brown ones and feel a new wave of sadness when I realize the pack will never be complete again.
“Hey, did you hear me?” I refocus and see everyone looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, I just..this is all too much. Imagining how excited Stiles was every time we would get together, sharing his crazy theories and suspicions about all things supernatural. I really miss him,” I finish, trying to stop the tears from spilling down my face, as true emptiness seeps into my bones.
Scott takes a deep breath and finishes his speech, “The real reason I called you all here wasn’t to talk about Stiles’s death, but to do something about it. Theo is going to regret he ever fucked with us.” He raises his head and I see his red eyes blazing. I smile to myself and hope Theo goes slowly. I’ll make sure he suffers five thousand times more than Stiles did. He can count on that.
These four walls and me
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TEEN WOLF
4x10, Monstrous
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Just watched The First Time and Dylan was amazing!!
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Veggie is healthier. We’re being healthy. Could you just eat it, please?
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character bio: mieczyslaw “stiles” stilinski
some of us have to make mistakes. some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. some of us are human!
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you so
fuckin
precious
when you
💝 💓 ✨ 💗 💞 💐 ✨ 🌺
💞 respect actors and their 💝
✨ boundaries, especially 💐
💘 if they’re children 💗
💘 🌺 ✨ 💕 🌺 💓 💐 🌸
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REBLOG IF THIS RELATES TO YOU:
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I have never posted anything Stranger Things-related but this is so beautiful, I had to share PLEASE READ 😭
liminal.
(steve harrington x reader)
summary: a series of snapshots between the reader and steve during the last summer before college.
word count: 5,975 words
a/n: this is for @ughjoekeery‘s wonderland writing challenge! the prompt was i’ll be your quiet afternoon crush. this has been the hardest thing i’ve ever written, but also the one i’m most proud of. it’s easily the most cathartic thing i’ve ever written. i’m pretty sure that there’s a significant piece of me that’ll stay with this. enjoy!
If the two of you were seasons, then Steve would be the summer, and you would be the winter.
Steve was loud and present, constantly demanding your attention. He was all of the highs and none of the lows. He was late night road trips and lazing around at the beach and skinny dipping in his pool. He was the hand on your shoulder, the whisper in your ear telling you to enjoy the moment. He was the nostalgia, the yearning for times that had long since passed.
You were the opposite. You were soft and drifting, more interested in reading and staying behind the scenes. You were quiet nights clutching a mug of hot tea while the snow fell, silent on the ground. You were cozy sweaters and cuddling up on the couch. You were walking in the middle of the road, the foot of snow crunching beneath your feet.
Steve was the summer. You were the winter. Always close enough, fingertips brushing, but never fully touching.
Never fully together.
64 Days.
“Steve fucking Harrington, you’re late!” Your voice carried over to the house next door. Steve jerked his head up from where he’d been leaning into the backseat of his car, a grin spreading across his features. He dropped his bag onto the sandy driveway and tore across the sand. You could hear your grandma yelling at you inside about your language.
Never in your life had you been more appreciative that your grandmother lived next door to the Harrington’s beach house.
Keep reading
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stydia meme | two favorite moments per season → season 1 (½)
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