Você Poderia Fazer Icons Do Stiles Stilinski Para Usar No Spirit Fanfic?

◇◈◆ Request Guidelines ◆◈◇

Note: I appreciate all of the wonderful and creative requests I have gotten from everyone and thank you all very much. I doubt I will ever not accept them, so if anyone has an idea they would like to read, send it my way!  

However, I realized that I have allowed myself to get overwhelmed by them, and I somehow forgot that I have freewill and don’t necessarily have to write everything that is asked of me. I am a people-pleaser and people have asked about a guideline for requests before, so to help everyone and myself, I decided to finally make one. Please keep the following in mind when making a request...

◇◈◆◈◇

◆ Reader/POV:

◇ Everything I write will be based on a female reader insert.

◇ I do not use y/n, pet names, or an original character, unless explicitly stated (which has not come up yet).

◇ I will likely not make physical appearance specifications (e.g. race, weight, hair color, etc.).

◆ Fandoms & Characters/People:

◇ Dylan O'Brien

◇ Teen Wolf - Stiles Stilinski

◇ The Internship - Stuart Twombly

◈ I am open to writing about other characters that Dylan O'Brien has played, but only if I have seen the movie/TV show and think I understand the character well enough.

◆ Alternate Universes:

◇ High Schooler!Dylan x Reader

◇ Stiles x POTS(Chronic Illness)!Reader

◇ Stiles x Wampus Cat!Reader (coming soon/hopefully someday?)

◇ Stiles & Stuart Twins x Reader

◈ I would love to hear ideas and fantasize with you, but it is fairly unlikely that I will start a drastically new AU because I would like to continue the ones I have started.

◆ Excluded Themes:

◇ Smut (though it may be hinted at or implied). I discuss spicy topics on my other account: @panthressa

◇ Anything hateful towards a group of people and general slander (e.g. racism, homophobia, sexism, etc.).

◇ Anything political. I don't want to hear what you believe, let's just peacefully exist in dreamland together.

◇◈◆◈◇

If my guidelines are ignored, I will happily delete your request for the sake of my comfort and boundaries. Otherwise, I will take everything into consideration. Thank you!

-KC 💜

That bicep though...

name the pop/punk 2000’s band

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.

Effort for Love ❤️

Word count: 1,078

Happy Valentine's Day!

Stiles had it all planned out. It was going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever. It had to be; it was their first spent together as a couple. Some (Isaac) might say he was taking it too seriously, but he strongly disagreed. It was his duty to make his girlfriend feel as special and loved as possible.

With a big smile, he drove to the surprise destination, stubbornly refusing to answer all of her questions. She was radiating with excitement in the passenger seat – she had never had someone so dedicated to her happiness. It took all of her strength not to peek under the blanket in the backseat which was clearly hiding a menagerie of items for their date.

She was giddy, and seeing that on her face made Stiles giddy too. He did that. He was the one who was making her feel that way. And knowing that was the best feeling in the world. 

“Can I at least get a hint or something? I need to mentally prepare!” 

“Absolutely not. And don’t worry about mentally preparing, you’ll be very relaxed, I promise.” Stiles spoke with a calm yet adamant voice, though he couldn’t ignore his nerves. This was a big moment for him.  

“Oh, I’ll be relaxed? Does this mean there’s a massage in my future?” she teased. 

He smirked. “Maybe later if your gift is as good as I think it’s going to be.” He glanced at the neatly wrapped box sitting in her lap, filled with all of his favorite goodies and the new video game disk he’s had his eye on for his Xbox. She knows him better than he’d like to admit. 

“Well, I guess we both just have to wait and find out then.” 

“I guess so.” 

The next ten or so minutes were peaceful, their chatting and laughter filled the air. That was until an unsettling screech made a bold interruption. Before they knew it, the Jeep was slowing down. Stiles instinctively pulled off the mostly empty highway.  See, he took a route that he knew she wouldn’t recognize, one that most wouldn’t take on a holiday because it leads away from town and past all the popular scenic spots. 

The poor guy was trying not to panic. He had just recently gotten major work done on the vehicle, so watching it break down yet again was beyond frustrating. He put it in park and stepped out with a huff, closing the door with a little bit more force than he meant to. Steam flowed from the front of the Jeep as he lifted the hood, making him cough a couple of times. 

Seeing his anger and devastation as he cursed out his car was worrying for his girlfriend. She knew that he had spent over a week planning this, but she started to truly realize how much he truly wanted to do this for her as she, too, stepped out, making her way to his side. 

“Stiles-” 

He shook his head, looking at her with sincere remorse as he interjected. “No, look, I’m sorry. I know you were excited and this kind of ruins everything I had planned, but we could try again another day, you know? We could have another Valentine’s Day next week and just forget everything-” 

She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Yes, he had always been hard on himself, but this was just ridiculous. “What? No. Stiles, I don’t care if it’s not perfect or not exactly how you planned, weren’t not just going to throw it all away. We still have time; we still have the whole evening.” 

“Yeah, but we’re not going to make it to the beach in time for sunset and a tow truck could take hours, maybe all night!” he blurted, his frustration at the situation still growing. 

Warmth filled her cheeks and a soft smile grew on her face. “You were taking me to the beach for the sunset?” she said delicately. Her heart had never felt so full. 

“Yes,” he sighed. His hand then gestured toward the still steaming Jeep as he spoke, saying, “Yeah, I was… Until this stupid piece of-” 

“You’re the most adorable, romantic, sweet, and loving man in the world.” Her words were filled with such sincerity that Stiles froze, his face turning to the same rosy red as hers. 

“Wha-… Really? You’re not, like, mad or something?” For some incomprehensible reason, he was struggling to believe the situation at hand. How could she be so understanding? Why was she so calm? And smiling? What the hell was going on? 

“Of course I’m not mad,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why would I be mad when I have the world’s perfect boyfriend all to myself on Valentine’s Day?” 

He was faltering, his hands barely making contact with her waist. “I’m not perfect…” 

Her lips were firmly pressed against his instantly. “Shut up. Yes, you are.” 

Stiles was floating, a nervous, blushing mess. How did he get so lucky? 

After a little more convincing, Stiles agreed to go through with his plan on the side of the highway instead of the beach since they were still miles away. He made his girlfriend wait in the passenger seat with her eyes closed (he was very firm about that) while he moved the blanket from the backseat to the pavement and set up the red candles, red and pink flowers, sandwiches he made himself, and boxes of chocolates for dessert.  

The scene in front of her when she opened her eyes was straight out of a romance movie. She was practically speechless as she moved towards the blanket to sit with her beau, both of them grinning uncontrollably. The evening turned out to be the most magical moment imaginable, beginning with a call with the towing company, of course. They spent the five-hour wait basking in the love they had for each other and the sunset that still made an appearance.  

When it became too cold to sit outside any longer, they packed up and sat in the Jeep again, where Stiles opened his gift with glee. He nearly crushed her ribcage with the bear hug he gave her. And yes, it earned her a massage, of sorts, in the backseat.  

Curled up against each other under the blanket, they exchanged handwritten love letters and read them out loud to each other, closing their very romantic date with a loving bang.

Yes! He deserves all the love. And so do you! 💜

Sorry to ruin everyone's day, but Stiles holds hands when he cries, without a doubt.

Maybe he holds his love's soft palm against his own cheek while he speaks with a tremble, using it as a tether to help him work through his emotions. Their hands are practically soaked from all of his tears, but he doesn't even notice. He's only focused on her and all the love he feels radiating from her touch.

Or maybe she's sitting with him while he waits for his appointment with his therapist after a long, hard day. He squeezes her hand, trying to take deep breaths and ignore how much his leg is shaking. He wipes his face of the tears that escape with a bit of annoyance at his vulnerability in a public space. Sure, there's only a few other people in there with them, and they're all there for the same reason - to get help - but Stiles has always been good at bottling his emotions up. Why couldn't he do it now?

And especially during his panic attacks, when every muscle in his body feels like it's on fire and when his lungs can't grasp the air he's reaching for, he uses both of his hands to hold onto hers, so tightly that they shake. Sometimes he presses their hold against his chest or his forehead, needing to know that it's real, she's real, she's there with him.

Also, just imagine little Scott holding little Stiles' hand as they walk home from their elementary school after getting into another fight with the biggest bully in the second grade. Maybe boys aren't "supposed to" hold hands, like everyone says when they're eight years old and clueless. Stiles doesn't care, though, he knows he needs this (yes, he waited until they were in his neighborhood, away from any curious gazes).

The moral of the story is that sweet, sweet Stiles needs physical touch to survive. Everything becomes easier when he has a hand to hold, and this goes far beyond just crying.

The talent here is blowing my mind-

Dylan drawing :)

To His Left

Word count: 938

It was Dylan's first day at his new school, the one he was transferring to in the middle of October during junior year. It wasn't very convenient timing, but his old school was a headache and a half. He was hopeful for his future in the new environment, regardless of the shy feelings creeping up on him.

He took a deep breath as he walked into his new English classroom a few minutes early, not wanting dozens of eyes on him in an instant. He immediately saw the bright smile of Mrs. Nixon, a young (mid-twenties), short, brunette, and cheerful woman who would be teaching him from now on. Her expression seemed to quickly ease his nerves, and he smiled back at her as he began to walk up to her desk.

He barely took his first couple steps before Mrs. Nixon spoke exuberantly, "Hi! Are you my new student? Dylan, right?"

He held onto the straps of his backpack tightly as it rested on his shoulders and nodded, his words falling out of his mouth, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me."

"Perfect! I'm Mrs. Nixon, and oh my god. Sorry, I'm just so excited. This is a good class to join, as far as my junior classes go, I'm glad you were put in this period," she spoke rapidly, her ecstasy evident.

Dylan couldn't help but smile at her, appreciating her happiness just because of his presence. It felt good, so he tried to keep the conversation going, "Oh yeah? Do you teach another class?"

She sighed, then rolled her eyes as she spoke, "Yes, unfortunately. Half of my periods are full of freshmen."

Their comfortable chatter continued, and neither of them noticed that the bell had rang until his soon-to-be peers started flowing in. He looked around, realizing that he had no idea where he was supposed to go. Mrs. Nixon noticed his confusion and pointed to an empty desk, "Oh, Dylan, you can sit right over there, desk twelve."

He nodded as he walked over, trying not to let his face heat up when he heard Mrs. Nixon inform the class of his new presence and saw the eyes of everyone on him. He forced a polite smile and nodded as he sat down, and seconds after, his attention was grabbed by the gorgeous girl sitting to his left. His eyes widened a little and he hoped she didn't notice while she introduced herself with the most flattering smile he'd ever seen.

His words left him before he knew he was even speaking. "Nice to meet you, I'm Dylan," he said, feeling his hands get clammy.

"So I've heard," she spoke casually, making him chuckle nervously when he realized that Mrs. Nixon literally just told the entire class his name. "And it's nice to meet you too. If you have any questions about what we're learning about or the school, let me know."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling. She seemed so nice and laid back, as if talking to him was the easiest thing in the world, whereas he was struggling to contain all of his various emotions. She was either really good at this, or really good at pretending to be good at this. Either way, he enjoyed every second of their conversation.

"Sweet, thanks. I'll make sure to do that," he was a little disappointed when his attention was diverted to the lesson, right after he spoke.

As soon as the lesson was finally over, his gaze turned toward the girl to his left again. He really just wanted to talk to her again, the only problem was that he had nothing to say. He searched his scattered brain until she finally spoke and snapped him out of his staring, "You good?"

Dylan's eyebrows raised when he realized how weird he might have seemed, just looking at her without a word. He quickly tried to defend himself with a clearly forced tone of nonchalant, "What? Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. Just got distracted. But technically, it wasn't my fault."

She gave him a look of suspicion and tested his ability to keep his cool, "Oh really? So it's someone's fault that you got distracted?"

He smirked, hoping with his entire soul that he wouldn't mess this up, "Exactly. See? You're getting it."

Her eyebrows furrowed but she couldn't hide her small smile, "Getting what? What the hell are you talking about?"

He hesitated for a second, looking away. Screw it, he thought, and he shrugged his shoulders as he looked right at her again, "You're distracting me. I mean, come on. How am I supposed to not look at you?"

A bit of blush crept onto her cheeks and her smile unintentionally grew. She paused for a second, letting his words sink in and trying to think of how she could possibly respond to something so bold from someone she just met that day. She collected her wits and responded as confidently as she could make herself seem, "That's interesting, coming from someone who doesn't even know me. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but have you considered the possibility that you just suck at focusing on anything other than girls?"

He suddenly felt his own face heating up, not having expected such a sassy accusation. He chuckled, mostly nervously, "I plead the fifth."

She simply rolled her eyes with a smirk as Dylan kept smiling like a dork. They knew that this seating arrangement was going to be entertaining for both of them, and Dylan was excited to have a pretty girl to look at during English, directly to his left.

Note: I have no idea if this is good or not, but if it somehow is and someone wants me to keep this storyline going, then I happily will. Just let me know :)

For writers (and everyone in general) who have that desire to write in their heart but struggle with making themselves do it and enjoying the process of writing, you are not alone. It's not an easy thing and it takes a lot of brain power. It might come more naturally on some days, and not so much on others. Please be kind to yourself and your brain, just existing requires energy and it's ok if you don't accomplish every little thing every single day. We're all human. If you feel pressured by other people or yourself to write, just remember that there isn't a fatal consequence if you don't meet the deadline you want. You'll be ok and you're doing great. 💜

more stiles fluff pls bc hes so lover boy

thank you SO much for asking i love stiles so much he IS lover boy i need him desperately

also sorry this is so short i’m still trying to kick whatever sickness i have </3

he’s so stupid in love it’s sickening ( or maybe that’s me but )

constantly talking about you and/or wanting other people to bring you up so he can talk about you more

he’s so big on PDA, it really doesn’t matter what form. he’s just so in love with you and he doesn’t care who knows it.

lingering hugs and forehead kisses and ruffling your hair and staring at you fondly while someone else is talking to him

“stiles are you even listening to me” and the answer is always no. not when you’re around. his thoughts are always preoccupied by you.

if you’re not too big on PDA though, he’ll try to tone it down and settle for holding your hand or playing with your fingers while you’re standing next to each other. he’s fidgety and he likes touching you, he can’t help it.

i feel like if you’re watching a movie together, you’re in his arms. you claim it’s because he’s a nice pillow ( and he is ) but really, it’s the feeling of being safe.

you know as long as you’re with him, nothing and no one is touching you.

he always searches for you in crowded rooms. you’re the first thing he looks for, the first person his eyes settle on. he doesn’t always have to be with you but he at least has to know you’re around.

i feel like he’s only ever fully vulnerable when he’s alone with you. his whole life is sarcasm and jokes to cover his real feelings but with you, it’s so easy to let it out.

sure, you talk about the deeper things that he doesn’t tell most people but it’s more than that. you make his racing mind quiet. you calm him in a way that he hasn’t had in maybe ever.

in those moments, it’s just you and him laying in bed and he looks so peaceful, so gentle it makes your heart ache. your fingers are running through his hair and his arms are around your waist and his head on your chest and there’s never been a more perfect moment.

i feel like the first time he says i love you is an accident. he’s been overthinking on how to tell you for ages, worried you may not say it back that it just comes out.

and of course you say it back. after that, he says it all the time. you could be sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep and he’s driving and he’s staring at you instead of the road and you ask him why he’s staring

“i just love you, that’s all” and he shrugs like that’s the only possible answer he could give

stiles is the type of boyfriend who sends you random articles about a subject just because you said you liked it once.

he does like seeing you in his clothes so he will always lend them to you. but also, he likes getting them back once they start to smell like you.

he’s also the type to sing you cheesy love songs off key to annoy you ( but you also find it endearing— not that you’ll tell him that )

he drives you to school a lot. he says it’s better than the bus and you’re not even that much out of his way so it’s really no problem ( and it’s 100% an excuse to spend more time with you and make sure you get to school okay. whether you actually get there on time is not relevant. )

he’s always telling you about the crazy shit he overheard from his dad’s phone calls and about school gossip ( because let’s be honest, that boy yaps. he knows shit. )

he shares his snacks with you. ( it’s such a simple thing i know but where i come from, sharing food is a love language )

speaking of food, i feel like you guys have dinner together a lot. if the sheriff has to work late, you’re either inviting stiles over to eat with your family or you and stiles bring food to the sheriff’s office to make sure his dad eats too.

and on the subject of the sheriff, he adores you. he’s not really the type to say it aloud but he can see how happy you make stiles and how much you take care of him. and he does appreciate that you take care of him too. it’s been a while since they’ve had someone else to look out for them both.

stiles will do matching stuff with you. halloween costumes? check. matching pajamas? check. same flannels? check. he may have complained about it at first but once you convinced him he was hooked. he thinks it’s adorable.