Hello all, and welcome to one of the first activities we'll be hosting without an episode of Teen Wolf to kee us occupied! Welcome probably isn't the word we should use, perhaps "join us in mourning" is a more appropriate phrase.
Today's activity is a ficlet challenge!
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Here's how it will go. )
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Stiles is sort of addicted to shirts with printing on them. And nobody ever minded that he likes batman and superman, or really, men in capes. His dad never wears anything but his uniform, and Scott is not exactly into fashion either, so how was Stiles to know that green shirts with a robot on it, that read "Exterminate! Exterminate!" aren't ~cool.
But then Derek has to borrow another one of his shirts, because he isn't able to keep blood off his own.
"Stiles, do you own anything that does not look like it's from the kid's section?"
Of course, ask a favor and then mock his style. Typical.
"It's for young men! Check your facts. Also, Doctor Who is cool. They have werewolfs on there, too, you know? But theirs are much fiercer--"
Obviously Derek doesn't like the assumption. He never returns the shirt, though.
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"What the hell, man? I thought cats were supposed to be the sneaky ones," Stiles clutches his chest through his shirt dramatically, and Derek wants to bare his teeth at the boy. Then Derek notices the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way his chest is heaving a little too much to be from Derek scaring him, and looks up to Stiles' computer to see - a blank screen. The boy turned off his monitor. Derek inhales deeply, smelling the teen's arousal. He walks toward the boy on the floor, ignoring as Stiles continues to talk. "Oh my God, you're not here to extort money from me, you're going to kill me because my dad was doing his job, aren't you."
Stiles sounds so doomed, his flushed face paling, and that just won't do. Derek kneels next to the boy and lays a hand on his stomach, spidering out his fingers and pressing down as Stiles tries to scoot away. "Not going to ( ... )
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I like the use of "beads of sweat".
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"No ransom? None, at all?"
Silence.
"Really?Aggravated silence ( ... )
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