#sciriles

Probably they’ll lose most of the twenty thousand followers they’ve picked up since someone started sending around the gag reel. “World’s Wimpiest Ghost Hunter” may be funny the first few times, but anyone who navigates around the rest of the channel is going to quickly realize that Stiles is more often talking shit to locals and cops than he is screaming and running. Sure, he’s jumpy, but the fact that none of them has ever ended up with more than a small fine or community service for all the shit they get into is a testament to his general badass status. Or maybe that most of their crimes were committed before they ever moved away to college, when Stiles was still wheedling his father into not punishing them too harshly.

Scott’s pretty sure Kira isn’t going to come shuffling into the kitchen until at least the afternoon, considering the night she had handling all of their social media. Scott’s “Leave Bigfoot Alone” blog header, long ago edited from ‘Britney’ to ‘Bigfoot’, has been shopped again to defend their boyfriend. Overnight, they somehow have an Instagram presence. The only thing she hadn’t been able to get at was Stiles’s Twitter, after he shoved his phone under his stomach and crashed face down in bed with the promise of flailing limbs for anyone who tried to reach in and grab for it. Instead, she’d linked to footage of him repeatedly from the other accounts, including a few more flattering videos of him excitedly explaining phenomenon they’d be looking for....before arriving at the supposedly haunted sites.

“Look,” he tries again, turning the laptop around to show Stiles all of Kira’s mentions. “It’s not like they’re only making fun of you. They put her head on the ‘aliens!’ guy.”

“Kira is the aliens guy!”

Well. Stiles has him there. He’s pretty sure Kira’s spiel about extraterrestrials had gone over about as well and as plausibly with his mom as anything Giorgio has ever said on television, at least the first time. Even switching tacks to near-death experiences hadn’t saved that first dinner with the parent, but it still had nothing on the second, more awkward evening once they had to add the sheriff to the invite list. It wasn’t like they could’ve anticipated Kira and Stiles enthusiastically making out on what was supposed to be a serious camping trip to investigate claims about a local cryptid. Any hope that a cute girlfriend with respectable academic parents would settle their boys down had gone out the window when Kira’s face lit up over the topic of death and destruction, pigtails whipping against her shoulders as she turned to each side of the table.