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“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”
“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”
“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”
“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.
“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”
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Bookmarked by cora_n_lea
21 Sep 2017
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“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him.
“No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.”
Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.”
“So, so much worse,” Scott agrees.
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In which Derek's pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha's children.- Language:
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Bookmarked by cora_n_lea
09 Sep 2017