For vangoghstars, a bit more wereduck:
Stiles kicks Scott and Derek out (again). He devotes the next five minutes to furiously gesticulating at his reflection, carefully inspecting his hair, and repeatedly turning in a circle while trying to get a better look at his wings, like a dog chasing its own tail.
At least all the werewolf stuff is up front, where it can be easily seen. Stiles is a wereduck chasing his own wings, because everything is awful and the universe hates him.
He wonders if Derek has ever chased his own tail in alpha form, which makes him wonder if weremallards have an alpha form, which sends him down the stairs in a panic, wings flaring out behind him and dragging along the walls.
“Oh my god, you guys, what if—” He stops short. Derek and Scott are huddled together on the couch in front of Stiles’ laptop. Scott looks up at Stiles briefly, grinning, and then goes back to clicking around. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I think this one has video,” Scott says. Both of them lean in, Scott watching through his fingers, Derek smirking so hard he looks like the Grinch. “Yeah, it does, that’s—”
They recoil from the laptop at the same time, eyes widening. Derek looks up at Stiles, back at the laptop screen, back up at Stiles. Scott has his eyes covered with both hands.
“You assholes Googled duck penises, didn’t you,” Stiles realizes.
That sets them off again. Scott at least has the decency to look vaguely guilty about laughing at Stiles; Derek looks like his entire life has been made by the combination of Stiles’ new species status and duck penis videos on the internet.
“Here,” Lydia says, pressing a glass of something clear into his hand. “Maybe it’ll take your mind off how ridiculous you are.”
“I hate all of you,” Stiles says, clutching his glass of clear drink.
Derek and Scott just keep laughing. Stiles regrets ever encouraging them to bond. He wants them to unbond. He wants them to go away. He wants to remind Scott that sometimes he wolfs out when he sneezes really hard, and Derek that he always licks Stiles’ hands in alpha form, like he’s looking for treats. Those jerkwolves are not better than him.
That reminds him—
“What if I become an alpha mallard,” Stiles blurts out. Scott and Derek stop laughing, blinking at him. “What if I — Derek is a giant wolf, does that mean I would I turn into — oh, fuck you guys,” he shouts, frustrated, because he can feel the next outburst of laughter coming a full ten seconds before it does.
This is a serious problem! He has serious issues! If he’s going to turn into a giant duck, he needs to know.
“Guys,” he tries, with no success. “Come on, this is — guys. This is important, would you just — guys—”
Stages of Deterioration in the Human Body
The Moment Of Death:
1. The heart stops.
2. The skin gets tight and ashen in color.
3. All the muscles relax.
4. The bladder and bowels empty.
5. The body temperature begins to drop 1 1/2 degrees Fahrenheit per hour.
After 30 minutes:
6. The skin gets purple and waxy.
7. The lips, fingernails, and toenails fade to a pale color.
8. Blood pools at the bottom of the body.
9. The hands and feet turn blue.
10. The eyes sink into the skull.
After 4 hours:
11. Rigor mortis has set in.
12. The purpling of the skin and the pooling of the blood continue.
13. Rigor continues to tighten muscles for another 24 hours or so.
After 12 hours:
14. The body is in full rigor mortis.
After 24 hours:
15. The body is now the temperature of the surrounding environment.
16. In males, the semen dies.
17. The head and neck are now a greenish-blue color.
18. The greenish-blue color spreads to the rest of the body.
19. There is a pervasive smell of rotting meat.
After 3 days:
20. The gas in the body tissues forms large blisters on the skin.
21. The whole body begins to bloat and swell grotesquely.
22. Fluids leak from the mouth, nose, vagina, and rectum.
After 3 weeks:
23. The skin, hair, and nails are so loose they can easily be pulled off the corpse.
24. The skin bursts open on many places on the body.
25. Decomposition will continue until the body is nothing but skelital remains, a process that can take a month or so in hot climates, and two months or more in cold climates.
Bloodstain Pattern Analysis (BPA) - Resource for Crime Writers
Per request
After the murder of his mother Bambi is consumed with a thirst for revenge.
No one is safe from the blood thirsty deer.
“You think I’m a prostitute,” Derek said, voice flat and disbelieving.
“Oh boy,” Isaac muttered, at the same time as an old lady eating by the side murmured, “Those jeans are very tight, my dear.”
Allison stepped out of the kitchen with a curious expression on her face, wiping her hands on her apron around the gun-shaped bulge in her apron pocket. “What’s going on here?”
“Do you think I’m a prostitute too?” Derek asked, because he had only met Allison twice, surely she wouldn’t think the same.
She bit her lower lip. “Oh well. Um.”(x)
So I probably cracked up a lot more than I should have while reading this fic. I just had many moments when I had to hide my face in my hands and laugh through the tears of second-hand embarrassment.
NOW WE KNOW WHAT ADAM DID IN HELL
I just fell in love with Jake Abel all over again
i know it shouldn’t even bother me, but
whenever those widespread posts are passed around with the list of fandoms on tumblr
teen wolf is ignored almost all the time
we’re a pretty large, loud fandom
and while the SHERLOCK fandom is invited…we’re not?
but the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases you for weeks in its absence.
MoonLight | 柄沙
[pixiv] http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=35561966
“how do you want it?” there’s a smile in ennis’s voice. of course there is.
“enough to show derek that nothing’s going to break me. and that i’m willing to get hurt for him; purebreds love that,” cora says, tugging at her ponytail to tighten its hold. the skin stretches at her temples, mimicking the pull of a grin on ennis’s face.
he leans forward. close, as usual, voice low and thick with the promise of violence. the sound makes her toes curl in her running shoes. “how much is that?”
“just…” cora bites down on the tip of her tongue, flustered and frustrated all at once, before she continues with a tight, “make it look like it fucking hurts. that’s all.”
“i can do that.”
of course he could.
