[Stiles Stilinski has liked halloween since he was about three years old. There's something great about knocking on strangers doors for free candy, particularly when dressed up as a superhero, or a monster, or whatever happened to strike your three year old fantasy.
Or in this case, your teenage fantasy. Becoming reassociated with the Murderpups Next Door had gotten him involved in any number of ridiculous situations lately, but this was one he'd pretty much put aside by himself. If he knew anything about Derek, he would probably be off being a hermit because he seemed to be completely immune to the words "free candy". So Stiles was taking matters into his own hands.
When he arrived at the Hale house, he rang the doorbell twice and bounced on his feet, holding a bag over his shoulder. He was dressed in dark grey, with a wolf hat hanging off of his head, and a sheet wrapped around his shoulders as a cloak for his very perfect, very clever costume as a direwolf. And considering he had something matching for Derek? He was not leaving here without him or his quote unquote pups.
Oh my God, he was Tony Stark and you don't have pictures?! Dude. [His jaw drops open in half mock outrage--he's trying not to laugh at the mental image.] I'm gonna need a repeat performance. [Stiles cracks a grin at Scott's comment and ruffles his hair, looking up at Derek from under his brow as he speaks about him, commenting,] Are you kidding? Your dad would own that throne. He could probably bench press Jaime Lannister.
[Pushing off the counter, Stiles digs in his pockets and pulls out a piece of paper, folded meticulously like it's the most important thing in the world, then unfolds it out on the floor, smoothing it out between the two boys.] Alright, so here's the game plan. We start at the Martin house, because Lydia's mom always buys the jumbo sized candy bars, and she's taking Allison because Mr. Argent is working, which means she's going to join us if Lydia deigns me with her presence. And then... [And then, he's going over his very well crafted plan. It even tracks a path around the Argent house--the last thing they want is any trouble.]
[Isaac waits for Stiles and Derek alongside his brother, tapping his foot as he does so. When Stiles finally approaches, he rolls his eyes and fixes the goggles on his head before looking over his shoulder.]
Daddy Staaark! If you don't hurry up you'll lose the throne!
[Hey. Halloween was serious business. They needed to hop to it.]
Isaac can't help but swell up with pride as he takes the map, looking at it like it's absolutely marvellous. It's his duty, it's his job, his responsibility, and Stiles has trusted him with it.
He keeps his voice steady, tilting his head up and feeling very glad that Stiles doesn't have the wolf powers necessary to tell how secretly proud of himself he is.]
That's what you have planned on the map. Sounds correct, good job.
[As the alpha, it was Laura Hale's responsibility to take care of her pack; it was her choice to admonish the right combination of affection and level-headed strength that she'd often shown in raising not only her younger brother (already a sour pain in the ass, but her precious, sour pain in the ass) but Scott Hale, the sweet baby of her aunt, who'd died in the fire.
Derek got his own brand of attention, but Scott was a different story. Scott hadn't known the trauma that had left a scar deep on their mental tissue, and while Laura wasn't going to sugarcoat a thing, it didn't mean she was ready to have him turn into a shell, either. So, most of her attention, beyond working a job in the sheriff's department at Beacon Hills, was devoted to Scott, through presents, or simply, constantly being in his presence, an assuring alpha Thing. Laura worked with both his wolf side--underdeveloped, just a pup--and his human, and one of her simple methods of doing so had come through communication.
Sitting on the couch with Scott in her lap, she gently worked her hands over his small ones, forming them into small shapes--four fingers out, making a biting motion.]
[Stiles Stilinski had assumed when his dad asked him to help out around the station, it would include fun things. After all, he was a smart, tech-savvy college student with way too much time on his hands and a quick mind. He'd be great at solving cases.
Instead, he's doing a patrol for his dad in the Beacon Hills conservatory.
Stiles is almost positive that he passed this off on him because he got a C on a math test, and this is some sort of punishment. Ducking under the chains that keep the cars out during the offseason, Stiles flicks on his flashlight and sweeps it from side to side across the crunching leaves and dirt pathways. It's cold as sin outside, and by the time he's even halfway through the sheriff's marked off quadrant, Stiles' teeth are chattering. Tugging the zipper of his hoodie up to his collar, he swings the flashlight across a small overhang created by a tree root and freezes, noticing something moving. ]
Oh god.
[It could be any number of things, wild things. So naturally Stiles starts to creep towards it, squinting a little as he lowers his flashlight towards the pile of leaves. Whatever it is is too small to be anything maul-y, and he tentatively reaches a hand forward towards the pile, starting to kneel down.]
★ HALLOWEEN ★
Or in this case, your teenage fantasy. Becoming reassociated with the Murderpups Next Door had gotten him involved in any number of ridiculous situations lately, but this was one he'd pretty much put aside by himself. If he knew anything about Derek, he would probably be off being a hermit because he seemed to be completely immune to the words "free candy". So Stiles was taking matters into his own hands.
When he arrived at the Hale house, he rang the doorbell twice and bounced on his feet, holding a bag over his shoulder. He was dressed in dark grey, with a wolf hat hanging off of his head, and a sheet wrapped around his shoulders as a cloak for his very perfect, very clever costume as a direwolf. And considering he had something matching for Derek? He was not leaving here without him or his quote unquote pups.
Halloween was nigh. ]
s t i l e s
you're saying that like you're surprised or something
oh my god
OH HAYYY
wow it's like deja vu
so much luc in this post
lmao oh lordy.
WHAT'S WRONG GUYS CAN'T HANDLE THE HEAT??
STAY OUT OF THE KITCHEN
8C MY HEART
ISAAC.......
huehuehue
I'm still not sorry
You're never sorry.
Don't ever be sorry.
I lack the empathy required.
Woops.
hfasjgdh babies
Cavities. All the cavities.
We haven't even gotten to the candy yet!
Sweet, sweet, trick-or-treats~
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
[Pushing off the counter, Stiles digs in his pockets and pulls out a piece of paper, folded meticulously like it's the most important thing in the world, then unfolds it out on the floor, smoothing it out between the two boys.] Alright, so here's the game plan. We start at the Martin house, because Lydia's mom always buys the jumbo sized candy bars, and she's taking Allison because Mr. Argent is working, which means she's going to join us if Lydia deigns me with her presence. And then... [And then, he's going over his very well crafted plan. It even tracks a path around the Argent house--the last thing they want is any trouble.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
wow starts another thread
Daddy Staaark! If you don't hurry up you'll lose the throne!
[Hey. Halloween was serious business. They needed to hop to it.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Isaac can't help but swell up with pride as he takes the map, looking at it like it's absolutely marvellous. It's his duty, it's his job, his responsibility, and Stiles has trusted him with it.
He keeps his voice steady, tilting his head up and feeling very glad that Stiles doesn't have the wolf powers necessary to tell how secretly proud of himself he is.]
That's what you have planned on the map. Sounds correct, good job.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
quicktags
quicktags some more
Re: quicktags some more
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
oh no puppy icons
tiny baby
I cannae even.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
YOU GUYS ARE GOING TO HATE ME AND I'M NOT SORRY.
Derek got his own brand of attention, but Scott was a different story. Scott hadn't known the trauma that had left a scar deep on their mental tissue, and while Laura wasn't going to sugarcoat a thing, it didn't mean she was ready to have him turn into a shell, either. So, most of her attention, beyond working a job in the sheriff's department at Beacon Hills, was devoted to Scott, through presents, or simply, constantly being in his presence, an assuring alpha Thing. Laura worked with both his wolf side--underdeveloped, just a pup--and his human, and one of her simple methods of doing so had come through communication.
Sitting on the couch with Scott in her lap, she gently worked her hands over his small ones, forming them into small shapes--four fingers out, making a biting motion.]
Wolf. Just like that.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
~enter the stiles~ /shot dead
Instead, he's doing a patrol for his dad in the Beacon Hills conservatory.
Stiles is almost positive that he passed this off on him because he got a C on a math test, and this is some sort of punishment. Ducking under the chains that keep the cars out during the offseason, Stiles flicks on his flashlight and sweeps it from side to side across the crunching leaves and dirt pathways. It's cold as sin outside, and by the time he's even halfway through the sheriff's marked off quadrant, Stiles' teeth are chattering. Tugging the zipper of his hoodie up to his collar, he swings the flashlight across a small overhang created by a tree root and freezes, noticing something moving. ]
Oh god.
[It could be any number of things, wild things. So naturally Stiles starts to creep towards it, squinting a little as he lowers his flashlight towards the pile of leaves. Whatever it is is too small to be anything maul-y, and he tentatively reaches a hand forward towards the pile, starting to kneel down.]
C'mon, come out, whatever you are...
[God he really hopes it's not something mauly.]
I'll comment with Isaac next go-round
okie doke~
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)