red-drowning:

daunt:

I’m craving a Teen Wolf ‘Supernatural Swat Team’ AU.  They would be a government organized pack of werewolves in a swat team and I just have SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS.
idk what to do with myself… SO MANY THOUGHTS.

Coffee was a miracle, Stiles decided clutching a dull brown paper cup between his hands, body hunched around the heat it was giving off and taking sips every now and again; relishing in the warmth that slid down his throat and into his stomach- a  warmth that radiated outwards like a heater, beating away the outside chill just a little bit.
Of course it would have been better if the coffee was good enough not to need about ten sugars to hide its disgusting taste, if he could have he would have dumped an entire cup of sugar into it but the disgusted looks he had received from Lydia earlier when they had purchased the coffee from a shop around the corner told him that it wouldn’t be appreciated.
Holding onto the coffee, almost as a life line, he shrugged his shoulders trying to get his coat to settle back onto his shoulders properly- it had been blown askew by a particularly strong wind and he inwardly cursed the fool that had decided that tonight was a good night to rob a bank. It was the middle of December for mercy’s sake and he wished to be at home, in bed and under several blankets not outside on the street, being battered by the sea breeze and with only two hours sleep.
Lydia, was smirking at him from underneath her cover of the surveillance van where  there was warmth and people she could bully into giving her a seat. Unlike him who had to wait, in the street, in the cold, at night for SWAT to arrive in order to guide them onto the scene. He didn’t even know how he had managed to get this job when it was supposed to be Jackson; who was now taking over his warmer spot as sniper inside one of the buildings rising above them, he thinks it might be the do-nuts that Jackson had shoved in his face when he had arrived on site.
The roar of a truck startled him enough for him to jump back three steps out of the way of it as it moved to the gates, it also meant that he had dropped his coffee and he looked down at it sadly, ignoring the bell-like laughter of Lydia from across the court and the smug grin that a blond in the front of the truck gave him; he fucking hated SWAT.
The truck pulled up at the gate, and as a curly haired man leaned out of the window to speak to the officer there, Stiles walked forward - dropping the now empty cup into a bin on the way.
“Good Evening, Good Day, Hello” he said drawing up, “My name is Detective Stilinski and I shall be your tour guide for the moment”, flashing a grin at Greenburg who had been spooked by curly-haired obvious werewolf attributes; really it was like they spent most of the time trying to make humans pee themselves. The gate inched open slowly and the truck, and Stiles, moved forward.
Inside the compound, it was hectic; directly to the left was the Surveillance team, plus Lydia who he gave a mocking salute to one the way past, enough to make her laugh. Directly on the right there were police car after police car parked haphazardly around the building where the snipers were. 
Weaving in between the crowds, leading the SWAT van behind him, he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and burrowed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, cursing under his breath as snow decided to fall. “I hate my job, I really do” he muttered to himself, “And winter, and Jackson- the bastard, and Lydia, and bank robbers, really? couldn’t they have done this at a more reasonable hour … do they want to be killed? seems like it, the entire department is out for their blood now. Oh and I hate werewolves, I really really, really hate werewolves” he continued to rattle on, uncaring for the confused looks he gained as he passed some of those he wasn’t in regular contact with. Those he was gave him a smile and a wave, others clapping him on the back in sympathy- everyone hated SWAT duty; showing them around, reporting to them, cleaning up after them - it was a pain in the arse, especially as they were all epicly stunning to look at but had the shittiest personalities he had seen outside of a serial killer.
“And here we are” he said, turning and giving a gesture with his arms spread wide indicating the side alley, “This is your final destination, thank you for flying Air Stilinski”. The looks he gained from the werewolves as they clamoured out of the truck told him that they didn’t appreciate the humour. However it was four in the morning and he was tired and stuck doing baby-sitting duty they would just have to deal with it.
As he left them to get ready, and to collect his microphone and in-ear speaker from surveillance, giving Lydia a glare; and stealing her coffee at the same time despite the fact that it had no where near enough sugar in it for his liking, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that someone was watching him. Turning around from his  conversation with Lydia where she was proceeding to both kick his arse for stealing her drink and briefing him on the situation inside he found himself looking at dark grey set in a pale face, dark hair messy and the beginnings of a beard on his face. His nose crinkled slightly as if sniffing and then the dark eyes turned red and he could see the beginnings of the wolf underneath.
Suddenly the blond one, with bright red lipstick on and curves that was making all the female officers, except for Lydia of course to stare, was saying something at the dark ones’ elbow and the red eyes turned back to grey and then away from him completely; giving him a strange feeling of loss.
Turning back his attention to Lydia he could see her assessing gaze and a smug grin on her face like she suddenly knew all the secrets in the world, “What?” he asked but she just shrugged and stood, moving on to look at a screen further away, “Is there something on my face?” he called after her ignoring the curious looks of those around them but Lydia refused to answer so he shot her a dirty look; to which she responded with by flipping him the bird even though she had been facing the other way, and so with a bark of laughter and a sip of the far too bitter coffee he made his way to his duty station, idly wondering about where he could get sugar from without walking all the way to the shop around the corner and what exactly was going on with Mr. SWAT Sourwolf over there.

OMG. LOOK WHAT I MISSED A MONTH AGO.
Thank you so much for writing this I am so happy you felt so inspired! :’)  SO COOL!

red-drowning:

daunt:

I’m craving a Teen Wolf ‘Supernatural Swat Team’ AU.  They would be a government organized pack of werewolves in a swat team and I just have SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS.

idk what to do with myself… SO MANY THOUGHTS.

Coffee was a miracle, Stiles decided clutching a dull brown paper cup between his hands, body hunched around the heat it was giving off and taking sips every now and again; relishing in the warmth that slid down his throat and into his stomach- a  warmth that radiated outwards like a heater, beating away the outside chill just a little bit.

Of course it would have been better if the coffee was good enough not to need about ten sugars to hide its disgusting taste, if he could have he would have dumped an entire cup of sugar into it but the disgusted looks he had received from Lydia earlier when they had purchased the coffee from a shop around the corner told him that it wouldn’t be appreciated.

Holding onto the coffee, almost as a life line, he shrugged his shoulders trying to get his coat to settle back onto his shoulders properly- it had been blown askew by a particularly strong wind and he inwardly cursed the fool that had decided that tonight was a good night to rob a bank. It was the middle of December for mercy’s sake and he wished to be at home, in bed and under several blankets not outside on the street, being battered by the sea breeze and with only two hours sleep.

Lydia, was smirking at him from underneath her cover of the surveillance van where  there was warmth and people she could bully into giving her a seat. Unlike him who had to wait, in the street, in the cold, at night for SWAT to arrive in order to guide them onto the scene. He didn’t even know how he had managed to get this job when it was supposed to be Jackson; who was now taking over his warmer spot as sniper inside one of the buildings rising above them, he thinks it might be the do-nuts that Jackson had shoved in his face when he had arrived on site.

The roar of a truck startled him enough for him to jump back three steps out of the way of it as it moved to the gates, it also meant that he had dropped his coffee and he looked down at it sadly, ignoring the bell-like laughter of Lydia from across the court and the smug grin that a blond in the front of the truck gave him; he fucking hated SWAT.

The truck pulled up at the gate, and as a curly haired man leaned out of the window to speak to the officer there, Stiles walked forward - dropping the now empty cup into a bin on the way.

“Good Evening, Good Day, Hello” he said drawing up, “My name is Detective Stilinski and I shall be your tour guide for the moment”, flashing a grin at Greenburg who had been spooked by curly-haired obvious werewolf attributes; really it was like they spent most of the time trying to make humans pee themselves. The gate inched open slowly and the truck, and Stiles, moved forward.

Inside the compound, it was hectic; directly to the left was the Surveillance team, plus Lydia who he gave a mocking salute to one the way past, enough to make her laugh. Directly on the right there were police car after police car parked haphazardly around the building where the snipers were. 

Weaving in between the crowds, leading the SWAT van behind him, he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and burrowed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, cursing under his breath as snow decided to fall. “I hate my job, I really do” he muttered to himself, “And winter, and Jackson- the bastard, and Lydia, and bank robbers, really? couldn’t they have done this at a more reasonable hour … do they want to be killed? seems like it, the entire department is out for their blood now. Oh and I hate werewolves, I really really, really hate werewolves” he continued to rattle on, uncaring for the confused looks he gained as he passed some of those he wasn’t in regular contact with. Those he was gave him a smile and a wave, others clapping him on the back in sympathy- everyone hated SWAT duty; showing them around, reporting to them, cleaning up after them - it was a pain in the arse, especially as they were all epicly stunning to look at but had the shittiest personalities he had seen outside of a serial killer.

“And here we are” he said, turning and giving a gesture with his arms spread wide indicating the side alley, “This is your final destination, thank you for flying Air Stilinski”. The looks he gained from the werewolves as they clamoured out of the truck told him that they didn’t appreciate the humour. However it was four in the morning and he was tired and stuck doing baby-sitting duty they would just have to deal with it.

As he left them to get ready, and to collect his microphone and in-ear speaker from surveillance, giving Lydia a glare; and stealing her coffee at the same time despite the fact that it had no where near enough sugar in it for his liking, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that someone was watching him. Turning around from his  conversation with Lydia where she was proceeding to both kick his arse for stealing her drink and briefing him on the situation inside he found himself looking at dark grey set in a pale face, dark hair messy and the beginnings of a beard on his face. His nose crinkled slightly as if sniffing and then the dark eyes turned red and he could see the beginnings of the wolf underneath.

Suddenly the blond one, with bright red lipstick on and curves that was making all the female officers, except for Lydia of course to stare, was saying something at the dark ones’ elbow and the red eyes turned back to grey and then away from him completely; giving him a strange feeling of loss.

Turning back his attention to Lydia he could see her assessing gaze and a smug grin on her face like she suddenly knew all the secrets in the world, “What?” he asked but she just shrugged and stood, moving on to look at a screen further away, “Is there something on my face?” he called after her ignoring the curious looks of those around them but Lydia refused to answer so he shot her a dirty look; to which she responded with by flipping him the bird even though she had been facing the other way, and so with a bark of laughter and a sip of the far too bitter coffee he made his way to his duty station, idly wondering about where he could get sugar from without walking all the way to the shop around the corner and what exactly was going on with Mr. SWAT Sourwolf over there.

OMG. LOOK WHAT I MISSED A MONTH AGO.

Thank you so much for writing this I am so happy you felt so inspired! :’)  SO COOL!

(via priestessofrhllor)

unicornempire:

Are you a Teen Wolf? Do you struggle with everyday wolfish tasks? Then enroll straight away at the Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski’s School for Teens who can’t Werewolf So Good (That means you, Scott). Hand screen printed t-shirts~ $18 right on over here! These are pretty limited for the moment, our humidity is making screen printing a total nightmare at the moment so it’s slow going. Thanks guys, hope you like the design! By the by- we’re looking for t-shirt models till the end of July, you can read about it over here.

Guys.

Look.

What I.

Just bought.

I am going to be swaggin in this shirt. <3

PS: Amber your design work leaves me breathless. GIVE ME YOUR BRAIN.