not a hero;

stiles stilinski. 17. son of the sheriff. definitely a dog person.

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

+ KALI

If it’s impolite to stare, what does that make grimacing in fascinated disgust..? 

Even though he’s well aware of the do’s and don’ts of werewolfy interactions-- please, by now he can list the finer points in his sleep-- part of Stiles will always be that kid at a pet store, tapping the terrarium glass until some employee rats him out to his mom and he gets dragged back to a safe distance.

The problem? He no longer has a mom, and there’s not always someone around to keep him from toppling tanks and cracking open cages.

                  ❝--So, the toes. Claws. Feet.                         Is that a wolf-thing,                         or a you-thing?❞

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

Ω

LIKE THIS for a starter ?

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

+ CORA

There are reasons he's flopped prostrate on the Hales' ratty-ass couch, but that doesn't mean he's going to elaborate on them. They're... reasons. Good ones, too.  ( He's willing to justify whatever diseases he's risking coming into contact with by mashing his face into the questionable cushions. And really, he's probably done worse, at some point. )

But it's not nearly long enough that he's left alone to bask in the silence of counting the number of streaky windows along the far wall before he hears the bustle of someone approaching. It makes him lose count, and has to start all over again.

When the loft's obnoxious metal door screeches and slides obnoxiously open, Stiles lets out a long, unhappy groan and rolls over. "That thing needs oiled," he tells the far-off ceiling, wondering how many times he can use the word 'obnoxious' to describe it before it becomes redundant.

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

Ω

like this if i can bother you with a starter / message you for plotting ?

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

[ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :              Desperate teenage attempt to star in his own porno. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :               Very you. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :               Can you please stop thinking this is caused by something supernatural because I               really doubt it. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :               Should I go get your dad? Tell him what his son has done this time. Save him from the embarrassment of having a headline about how his own child has miraculously locked himself in his own room?

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :               are you kidding me [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :               lydia. this is beacon hills. EVERYTHING is supernatural. [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :               leave my dad out of this

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

outofideas; emmy and i came up with an rp schedule so i'm able to write stiles without putting off any of the other stuff i need done, so i'll be able to do replies on FRIDAYS and SATURDAYS est. c:

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

[ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                Are you sure? [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                How did you even get yourself locked in? [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :               I swear you’re the only one who can do that. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :               Should I call the firemen to rescue you from your woes.

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                that's what i'm saying! i didn't lock myself in. i didn't lock anything!                the game's afoot [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                i just don't know what the game is [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                but if the game is supernatural firemen will do me a fat load of good [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                they probably wouldn't believe you anyway. even to me it sounds like some                desperate teenage attempt to star in his own porno

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

[ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                Thank you, for engraving an image I didn’t ask for in my mind. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                  And hey! I am concerned! [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                  Just not for the same reason? Like are you sure you didn’t hit your head somewhere?                 Should I call Melissa?

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                what? no! [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                of course i didn't hit my head [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                i mean [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                i don't think so? but don't go dragging melissa into this [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                scott would slap me

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

[ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                    Ah, maybe they’re making you their next Peter Pan.  [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                    Oh, and just so you know, I’m in my room laughing at your weird assumptions.

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                while i could rock the hell out of those tights, i feel like you should probably                be more concerned about the potential threat to my safety?! [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                not that i'm not thrilled that you find joy in this [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                because i am [ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                really.

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

[ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                  I don’t even want to ask how. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                  And no, that’s barely supernatural. [ sms sent to “the royal jest" ] :                   That’s just your idiocy.

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to “her imperial highness” ] :                i resent that! pixies could be prepping me for some weird sacrificial rite and                you're somewhere mocking my intelligence

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

[ sms sent to "her imperial highness” ] :                let's say my door is locked and my window won't open

[ sms sent to "her imperial highness” ] :                and now i can't get out of my room

[ sms sent to "her imperial highness” ] :                is it just me or does this strike you as vaguely supernatural?

[ sms sent to "her imperial highness” ] :                i'm leaning towards "not so vaguely supernatural", myself

[slippingintoacomabored-blog]

IT’S BEEN ONE YEAR AND MORE AND I STILL LOVE KAY TO THE MOON AND BACK AND IDC IF SHE EVER GOES BACK ON STILES I JUST LOVE KAY SOO MUCH PLEASE WRITE IT ON MY HEADSTONE 

[teen-wolf-archive]

[herapotter]

Visit Original Link

[biittenlips]

    “Don’t scare me like that,       not with the dead pool and everything.”

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

         ❝Oh my god, Lydia. All I said was 'hi'!            --Haven't we progressed from acknowledging            my presence with physical violence at this            point in our friendship?❞

Sure, he's sorry for freaking her out, but she's not the one who got smacked in the face with a freakin' canoe paddle. Why does she even have one of those things? It's not like she actively canoes.

                                                     ( Does she? Maybe she just like, rents the place                                                        out to some ivy league crew team every other weekend.                                                         Jesus. )

[notdamagedarchive-blog]

✕ sparkinghumanity followed for a starter.

            ❝if you don’t stop talking, i’m going to take                allison’s ring daggers and  s h o v e  them into                my ears. and, then if you’re still talking when                my eardrums repair themselves, i’m going to                shove them into your neck.❞

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

            ❝hold that thought, let me just--❞

after some particularly vigorous digging in his front pocket, stiles pulls out his cell phone. he fiddles with it, tapping the screen a couple times, before holding it up and angling the speaker towards isaac.

                                               ( what does he need? his handy, dandy voice recorder app! )

            ❝there. now, could you repeat that?                or by all means, continue where you                left off. i'm sure scott would love to hear                the many, many ways you fantasize about                disemboweling his best friend. you know,                the one he's known since kindergarten?                because that's definitely the way to get on                 his good side. kinda like dating the love                of his life! you really know just how to woo                a guy, dontcha.❞

[xherocomplexed-deactivated20150]

"— What the hell are you doing? It’s 2AM!   Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

[sparkinghumanity-blog1]

"What the hell am I doing?! What the hell are you doing? C'mon, I used the front door--       what more do you want!"

          Just please, for the love of god, don't let Agent McDouchebag show up. With Stiles' luck, the guy's lurking around as per usual and will try to convince Melissa to press charges for trespassing.

                                          Not that she'd ever listen, but still.                                           It's the principle of it.                                           That jerk doesn't need any more dirt                                           on him than he's already got.